The Laws of Seduction: A French Kiss Novel (4 page)

Rex eyed her dubiously. “There’s always a choice.”

“Like the one you’ve given me?” She laughed again. “You’ve practically held a gun to my head.”

“You could walk away.”

“I could. I
should
. Especially since I suspect there’s a lot you’re not telling me. You can’t hold out on me if you expect me to form a rational defense.”

“I never said I was and besides, I won’t need a defense when they see there’s no crime. I didn’t assault that girl, and that’ll become evident enough very soon. The only thing you have to concentrate on is getting me out of here.”

All at once the reality of what she was doing descended on her. “And then what? After I’ve compromised my reputation by working with you, how do I redeem myself?”

“By proving those fuckers wrong,” he said. All at once he grasped her by the shoulders. “And you start by trusting me. Can you do that?”

“How could I? I hardly know you at all.” Then right there and that suddenly, she found she wanted to, to really know him, to really understand him. And why was that? It was those eyes.
Damn
him! She couldn’t think with those inky eyes so focused on hers. She could drown in them, in fact it seemed she was, all reason swirling down the drain.

“Why should I?” she finally said. “All you probably want me to do is manipulate the facts anyway, truth be damned. Isn’t that what a good defense attorney does? Twist the truth until it suits the purpose?” She shoved him away, all professionalism going out the window. “Then you’d better cough some up, monsieur. Why did she start screaming?”

“I told you—to set me up.”

“For
what
? Why would she be out to get you?” She shoved him again. “Tell me!”

“
I don’t know!
” he hissed, reeling on her until her back was against the wall. “Get me out of here so I can find out. If you do I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Yeah?” She stared at him. “How much?” She honestly wanted to know. Didn’t she already push him over the edge with her retainer?

“Two million,” he said. “One for your firm, and another as an endowment for Occupy Vagina.”

“Two
million
?” She stared at him, speechless. There was only one reason he’d offer her something so outrageous. “Jesus, you really must be guilty.”

His gaze dropped, fixing on her mouth. “That’s the last thing I’d like you to think of me. For now I only need you to trust me.”

The deputy opened the door. “Time to go in,” she said, smiling at Rex.

He nodded. “
Merci. Nous arrivons
.” He looked to Charlotte, adjusting his open collar. “Shall we?”

“Oh no.” She tapped the iPad. “Not before I get this is writing.”

“And I will. After.” Then he took her arm, leading her into the courtroom.

“A
LL RISE.”

A female judge.
Rex rose as she took her place behind the bench.
Good
.

Charlotte leaned in, whispering, “You’re fucked.”

He whispered back, “Then at least let me enjoy it.”

She stared at him, blushing furiously.

Rex smiled to himself. He was starting to enjoy doing that.

“ . . . the Honorable Sophia K. Jennings, in and for the County of Philadelphia and the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. Please be seated.”

As he did he looked over his shoulder. For so early in the morning the courtroom was packed, and if he wasn’t mistaken, there were a few spectators who looked way too comfortable.

“Yes, you’re right,” Charlotte whispered.

He peered at her. “About what?”

“Those
are
members of the press back there.”

“Surely not for me.”

“Eventually, yeah, they will be. They’re looking for a story, and when they find out who you are and what you’re here for, they’ll get one.”

He sighed. “Just what I need.”

“And just what I don’t,” she said, scribbling something on a legal pad. “Their story won’t only be about you, you know.”

The judge looked up from her blotter. “Rex Renaud?”

Rex and Charlotte stood. “We’re here, your honor,” Charlotte said.

“Approach the bench.”

“Don’t answer unless you absolutely have to,” Charlotte whispered as they made their way to the front.

“That’s what I’m paying you for,” he said.

“Or not,” she answered. They took their place at the bar.

After a few moments the judge said, “Mr. Renaud?”

“Yes, your honor?” As he gifted her with a deferential curve of his mouth, he could almost feel Charlotte groaning beside him.

“You’re a foreign national, correct?”

“Yes, your honor,” he answered. “Of France.”

“In this country for business or pleasure?”

“Business.”

“And what is the nature of that business?”

Charlotte answered instead. “My client is the chief operating officer of the international corporation Mercier Shipping, and is often in the U.S. for business. Mercier and its subsidiaries have a shipping presence at several major ports and on both coasts throughout the United States, including Philadelphia.”

A small rumble went through the courtroom until the judge glanced up, immediately silencing it. “I’m aware of Mercier,” the judge said, looking askance. “Something about one of its captains chaining herself to the mast of her ship here last summer . . . ?”

A few titters from the crowd. “Yes, your honor,” Charlotte said.

Then just as quickly, the judge turned somber. “But there’s nothing quite as amusing about this incident, now is there, counselor?”

Charlotte glanced to Rex with a you’re-so-screwed expression before answering. “No, your honor. Not at all.”

She raised a brow. “And you of all people should know that, Ms. Andreko.”

More rumbling as Rex watched Charlotte blanch. He almost reached for her hand.

The judge ruffled a piece of paper, looking to Rex. “Mr. Renaud, complaints of sexual assault and indecent assault have been filed against you, sections 3124.1 and 3126 of the Pennsylvania Criminal Code. Are you aware of their seriousness?”

So much he was ready to crush the party responsible. “Yes I am, your honor.”

“As well as I am aware you’re a very wealthy man,” the judge said, shuffling a few more papers. “One that could afford, say . . .” She thought a moment. “Five million dollars’ bail.”

More rumblings went through the court as Charlotte said, “If I may, your honor, isn’t that bail a bit . . . overcautious?”

“No, counselor,” the judge said. “No for someone who has a plane at their disposal to flee the country with.”

“Not that I would, your honor,” Rex said, to Charlotte’s immediate jab of a spike heel into his toe.

“
Ow
,” he whispered, scowling at her.

“Excuse me?” the judge said, looking up.

Charlotte coughed. “Nothing, your honor. Sorry.”

The judge squinted at her before returning to the sheaf of papers. “So, as a man of considerable means being accused of a felony, who’s a foreign national, and who has an extraordinary means of transportation that could whisk him out of the country at a moment’s notice, please tell me Mr. Renaud, why the court should grant you bail?”

“If I may, your honor,” Charlotte said.

“Yes, Ms. Andreko?” the judge said a bit impatiently.

She cleared her throat. “Mr. Renaud, in all his forty years, has an impeccable record in his private life, and a long history of service to the international community. And since he’s the COO of a major corporation, and with the nature of his charge no doubt soon to be picked up by the media, it would be very hard for him to slip out of the country. Even so, the French consulate here in the city is willing to take responsibility for him until the hearing if he’s released into their custody in lieu of bail.”

“Which won’t be necessary,” Rex interjected.

“Oh?” The judge looked over. “Why is that?”

“Because I’d rather make bail than become a burden and distraction to the consulate,” Rex said.

Charlotte shot him a look of horror. “Jesus—will you keep quiet?” she muttered.

“Admirable, Mr. Renaud,” the judge said, “but let me ask you a question. Do you have any family in this country?”

“No, your honor.”

“Do you own a residence?”

“No,” he answered.

“I see.” The judge thought a moment. “So, Mr. Renaud, and this is no reflection on your character, but with such a serious charge leveled against you and no ties to this country except through business, it wouldn’t seem quite reasonable to just let you out to wander the streets.”

“And I wouldn’t be,” he said. He glanced at Charlotte. “I have an alternate place to stay while I’m in America.”

“Oh?” the judge said. “Where might that be?”

“With my attorney. She’s agreed to take full responsibility.” He turned to Charlotte with the full force of his personality. “Isn’t that true,
avocate
?”

Chapter Four

There’s No Place Like Home, There’s No Place Like Home

H
E HAD TO
be joking. Charlotte gaped at Rex, following the line of that self-assured jaw to an expression too goddamned determined.

“Seriously, Ms. Andreko? You’re willing to take responsibility for this client?” The judge hardly sounded convinced.

“She had agreed, your honor,” Rex answered, “if I were unable to stay with the consulate.”

“You don’t have a choice,” she mumbled under her breath.

“No—
you
don’t,” he said, grinning again.

Charlotte hissed through her teeth, “Why you son of a—”

“Ms. Andreko,” the judge snapped. “Please address the court. Will you take responsibility for Mr. Renaud or not?”

If she said no she’d look like an idiot. But saying yes was almost worse. It was bad enough the head of in-your-face Occupy Vagina was defending the COO of a company who’d been labeled misogynistic, branding her an opportunist for risking every feminist principle she ever stood for. But if he was
convicted
? The idea nearly gave her the shakes. Her reputation would be blown clear back to the Victorians.

Son of a bitch had her over a barrel and he knew it. And there was only one way to fight back. By proving the
connard
was as innocent as he said he was. She slanted him a scowl.
And he goddamned better be.

“Yes, your honor,” Charlotte finally said, formulating a reasoning on the fly. “I believe that since Mr. Renaud has never been convicted of as much as a traffic citation, his public stature and financial capabilities would make him less of a flight risk, not more.”

“Perhaps, but I’m not quite so sure. Which brings us to the question of bail.” She looked to Rex, and not altogether kindly. “Your unique circumstances as well as the severity of this charge demand a bond.” Then she paused, as if for effect. “Five million, to be posted before your release. As well as your absolute assurance you will not fly yourself down to South America. Is that clear, Mr. Renaud?”

“Perfectly, your honor,” Rex said, unflinchingly, the courtroom rumbling in response. “I haven’t the slightest inclination to go anywhere until all charges against me have been dropped.”

“I should hope not,” the judge said, “but your five million bond will give you all the more incentive. And Ms. Andreko?”

“Yes, your honor?”

“I need
your
assurances you won’t let him out of your sight until the preliminary hearing.”

Out of her sight? She must be joking. “Do you really think that’s necessary?”

“Are you questioning the judge?” Rex said sotto voce, feigning astonishment.

“Are you questioning me?” the judge asked.

Jesus—who’s been charged here?
Charlotte thought. She looked to the judge, cornered. “No, your honor. You have my assurance.”

“That’s all I want,” she answered. She shuffled a few papers on her desk before looking back to Rex. “Mr. Renaud, you’re to report back on Friday, October 3, ten a.m., for your preliminary hearing, That proceeding will determine if sufficient evidence exists to hold the case over for trial. At that time the court may also discuss a reduction in charges or dismissal of the case. Do you understand?”

“We do, your honor,” Charlotte said.

The judge peered at her. “Well, that’s excellent.” Then to Rex. “Mr. Renaud, please follow the deputy out so you may post your bond. Ms. Andreko—my chambers, please.”

“I’ll meet you out front,” Charlotte said to Rex.

“Oh, you most certainly will,” he said, squeezing her arm as he left.

Charlotte hoped that shiver came from rage, or what a week it was going to be. A minute later she was standing before the judge’s desk inside her chambers, the judge plopping into a chair behind it. And most pointedly not asking Charlotte to take a seat.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” the judge said.

“I beg your pardon?” Charlotte answered, taken aback.

“I’m pretty familiar with your Occupy Vagina,” the judge said, tapping her nail against the armrest. “My daughter even has even started wearing that—that—” She hastily shook her hand in front of her. “That ovary-appliqued bikini top of yours to the pool.”

“Oh.” Charlotte laughed slightly. “Sells even better than our ‘See Dick Run’ T-shirt.”

“I’m definitely
not
laughing,” the judge said.

“No, of course not.”
Jesus
.

“The point being,” the judge continued, “you have a solid reputation in this city, probably in this state. Maybe even wider than that when you think about the shenanigans Renaud’s company pulled last summer. But back then you and your organization stood tall empowering women, not railing against them.”

The judge repositioned herself and gave her a quick once-over, both actions designed to telegraph Charlotte’s insignificance. But she wasn’t buying it. She’d met her kind before. Women were always infinitely crueler than men as their standards were always higher. She thought back to Rex’s earlier observation.
Why shed blood when you can suck out a man’s soul.
He’d nailed it without even trying.

He did know women. At least that was one thing to admire him for. Had she the inclination.

“Ms. Andreko,” the judge went on, “I’m not trying to tell anyone what to do, and you’re certainly free to conduct your business anyway you want. But personally I’m a bit confused how you can risk the backing of your many female supporters by representing a man who’s obviously just out to use you. Don’t be surprised if they’re angry and see it as a betrayal, wondering why you’re not directing your efforts toward the woman in question. I mean—my goodness.” She squinched her face in horror. “What would Gloria Allred say?”

If Charlotte had been taken aback by the judge’s reaction she knew she shouldn’t have been. Her motives had been questioned before. Even so, the judge had picked the wrong morning to give her a schooling. It was bad enough she was flying on no sleep and bad coffee, not to mention a week with Rex waiting on the other side. She hardly needed this woman maligning her judgment, as that always got her hair in a kink.

Even more than it usually was.

Charlotte planted her Louboutins, pressing her fingers to the desk. “All due respect, your honor, but I think Gloria Allred or Gloria Steinem or even Gloria Vanderbilt would do the same as me—correct an injustice when they see one and the sex be damned. You of all people should know that.”

The judge’s eyes widened in outrage. “Are you questioning me again?”

“You’re questioning
me
, and I haven’t gotten as far as I have by letting you or anyone roll over me. Believe me, I know what I’m up against.”

The judge stood, slowly and with a glare Charlotte was sure could have melted steel. “Then you better hope to God that man is innocent or I’ll make it my personal mission to drag your name so low you’ll be looking down to look up.”

Charlotte met her gaze. “If he’s guilty you won’t have to. My obituary will already have been written.”

“Especially since there’s this. You and that man better be making like Siamese twins until the hearing because if either of you try to flout my order, and I find out he’s even crossed the street without you, I’ll issue a bench warrant so fast his
derrière
will back in jail at the speed of light.” Her eyes narrowed. “Not that that should be a problem. I saw the way he leered at you.”

Charlotte turned to leave. “Then you’ve nothing to worry about because I’ll be only one getting screwed, won’t I? You have a wonderful morning.” She opened the door and walked out.

She wondered if she went too far. But hadn’t she done that the moment she said yes to Rex? As she left for the elevator bank she shuddered, thinking of how many more times in the next few days she would again.

C
HARLOTTE ROSE
FROM
the bench in the lobby as Rex entered from the street. “Where in holy hell have you been?” she said.

It took him a moment to register what she’d said before he could speak. “I got a ride back to the station to get my things,” he said. “But when I got there . . .”

She tossed her hand, hoisting her briefcase atop her shoulder. “Yes . . . ?”

“My phone was missing,” he said, still not believing it.

“What?” She looked incredulous. “How is that possible? Didn’t you sign for it?”

“Oh course I did,” he said, irritated she’d even ask. But it wasn’t there, and they could offer me no credible explanation why it wasn’t. They said they’d look and call me if they found it.”

“This was at the property room?”

“
Oui
. They took my phone from me at the scene, but after I was brought to the station they gave me a receipt for it there. Look.”

She scanned it. “And here’s the phone. Was anything else missing?”

He looked over his shoulder and back. “Can we continue this discussion someplace else? I’d really like to get out of here.” He flicked the lapel of his tuxedo. “And out of this.”

“Not before I have a chat with the nice folks in the property room.” She grabbed her briefcase. “We’re going back.”

“Don’t bother,” he said. “You won’t get any cooperation from them. I left them with a string of French curses that are probably still hanging in the air. Besides, they don’t have it.”

“How do you know?”

“Because if they were out to just steal anything of mine,” he said, pulling up a sleeve, “it sure as hell wouldn’t be my four-hundred-dollar iPhone.”

She stared at his diamond and platinum cuff links. “Jesus,” she whispered. “What’s something like that worth?”

“Maybe five grand.” He shrugged, pulling the sleeve down. “Give or take a grand.”

“
God
. How good does it feel to be that rich?”

He pointed to a tear in her leather briefcase. “How bad does it feel to be that poor?”

“You’re such a smartass.”

“And you ask too many rhetorical questions.” He pointed to the door. “Can we go now?”

“Sure, but I have to warn you that after your arraignment, you can fully expect some of the media to approach you. See what I mean?” She jutted her chin toward the door. “There’s news vans out there now. And I’m not entirely sure they’re just out to get you. I’m sure there’s one or two of them ready to make an example out of me.” Then she stopped. “I know a back way out to the street. C’mon.”

As he did, Rex almost felt sick. What the fuck would he do now? Who the hell would want to steal his phone? Who would gain by it? Could it possibly have been . . . Lilith? With her husband a judge, the idea fell within the realm of possibility. But it was also true they hated each other. At least that’s what Lilith led Rex to believe. But then you never could tell what went on between two people. Maybe they had struck a bargain a long time ago to cover for each other, both living so visibly in the public eye.

Charlotte pulled open a door, entering into a stairway, Rex watching her as they descended. She truly didn’t know how goddamned hot she was, did she? How effortlessly seductive she was with her blonde hair piled high, allowing a few strands to frame her long neck, her silk shirt straining across her breasts, a pencil skirt hugging up and around that gorgeous
cul
. And those legs. Even though they went on forever, he had a good idea how to make them stop. By wrapping them around his hips and burying himself inside her.

Not that he needed to be thinking any more about his libido. Had he paid it a little less attention, he wouldn’t be walking out of a courthouse now.

“So where are we going?” she said, opening another door to a service corridor.

“How about my hotel?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, that’s so not happening.”

One more door and they were out on the street. “Quench your dreams of glory, mademoiselle. I need to wash and change. Though you’d better decide where we’re going after that, as it’s either your place or mine.”

Which she looked none too happy about. “All right, mine then.”

“
Très bien
.” He looked up and down the street. “Where’d you park your car?”

“I didn’t bring it,” she said. “I don’t use it much in the city. It’s easier to take the subway.”

He gaped at her with mild horror. “You honestly don’t expect I’d get on—”

“Calm down, your majesty. The Ritz is just down the street. See?” She pointed to it. “We can walk.”

“Oh, stellar,” he said, taking off his jacket to sling it over his shoulder. He thumbed his collar. “Nothing says Eurotrash like evening clothes in daylight.”

Charlotte laughed. “But you wear them
so
well.” She slipped the briefcase strap to her shoulder with a wince. “This way.”

“Give me that,” he said, taking the heavy leather satchel from her.

She pulled back. “I can handle it. I don’t need your help.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” he said, yanking it back. “But the cad in me is just gentlemen enough not to ignore a lady struggling in the street. So indulge me, please?”

She let go, crossing her arms. “Fine—it’s all yours.”

He hoisted the handle, wincing. “What do you have in here, hammers?”

“No, just the evidence of your guilt.”

“Which means we’ll have to hire a truck to carry the evidence for my side.”

“Hm . . .” was all she said.

They walked for half a block more before he finally broke the silence. “You didn’t think I’d get out today, did you?”

She slanted him a glance. “I didn’t think it’d be easy. There was that jet to consider.”

“You still think me capable of all kinds of mischief, don’t you?”

“I wasn’t the one you had to convince.”

He took her arm, steering her around a pile of broken glass. “You do have a point.”

One more block and they were at the Ritz-Carlton, entering into the cavernous marble lobby. She aimed for a sofa. “I’ll wait here.”

“Not on your life,” he said, taking her arm again. “Remember the judge’s order. We’re to remain as thick as thieves.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to visit your den of iniquity,” she said.