“I want to hire you,” she said, voice just as resolute as the firmness of her nod.
Uh . . . no. I was most definitely not going to like what she was going to ask. In fact, I was feeling a little pissed off.
What did she think, I was some kind of fuck for hire?
Another one of those steps, and she brought us so close she’d nearly erased all the space. So close that I could touch her. Get lost in her the same way I’d done last night.
The second she did it, I was slammed with urges, ones of bending her over my desk and pushing that dress up over her hips. Taking her from behind. Hard and fast and rough.
Could almost picture me having to cover that sweet mouth while I made her scream.
Incredulous laughter rambled around in my chest. “You want to hire me?”
It came out sounding more like an accusation than a question.
She nodded, the decisiveness from the second before wavering, her tone slipping, verging on something frantic. “I don’t just want to, Ian. I need to. I need someone who’s willing to stand up for me. Fight for me.”
Those eyes were pleading, begging for help.
How was I supposed to ignore that?
An itch started in my throat, and I reached up and yanked at the collar of my shirt where my tie had become too tight.
Someone was playing a cruel joke. Choking me out.
“I can’t represent you, Grace. I think you know that.” There was no softness to the words. No sugar-coating. Frankly, she was out of her mind if she thought I was all of a sudden going to be standing in a position of influence over her.
Not unless the influence I was exerting was in my bed.
My head angled down, my mouth at her ear, voice tripping into sex. “I fucked you last night, remember? And now you’re coming here asking for me to represent you? I’m sorry, but it doesn’t work that way.”
I could scent her, the way desire seeped from her pores and her breaths turned short from my proximity.
One of those hands came up to the pounding at my chest.
Not helping matters.
“Please . . . I don’t have anyone else.”
A swell of protectiveness washed through my insides, this nudging to do what was right for once. My mind raced. Seeking a solution.
Okay, fine.
I might not be able to represent her, but at least I could make some calls, right? No big deal. Set her up with someone who could help her through whatever issue she needed help with.
“What do you need help with? I’ll see what I can—”
“A custody battle.” She cut me off before I could get the rest of the sentence out.
I froze, shock a boom in the middle of my brain.
A custody battle.
I let it sink in for a second.
Then I went fumbling back, trying to put space between us when white-hot panic went streaking through my veins.
Fight or flight.
I didn’t know which one I was more inclined to give in to.
To run right the hell out the door or get in her face for fucking setting off this bombshell in the middle of my office.
“Excuse me?” I demanded, voice going hard.
Harsh.
Fueled by hate and fear.
A cold sweat broke out on my forehead.
She started shaking. First her hands and then it spread to the entirety of her body. A storm. Everything she’d been holding inside working its way out.
Secrets.
Motherfucker.
“I need . . . I need someone to represent me. My babies . . . he’s trying to take them away.”
She kept coming closer with every word that she said while I continued to back away. “I . . . I made a mistake. I fought him in a way I shouldn’t have, and he turned it around on me. I should have known he’d fight dirty. That he’d lie and cheat as a way to threaten me, to control me, to get me to do what he wanted. He’s trying to have me declared as an unfit mother. Saying I’m crazy. That I’m a thief. That I’m no good for them. Of course, he’ll gladly drop the whole thing if I go running back to him.”
Panic ridged with anger had taken possession of her, a desperation so thick I was inhaling it with every word that fell as a frenzy from her tongue.
“I think the only reason he wants me there is to control what I say. To make sure I don’t leak the things that I’ve seen. But I’ve seen them, Ian. I’ve seen them and I know them, and there is no way I’m letting my children get placed permanently in that house. It nearly kills me every single time they go for their visitations.”
It only had those volatile, conflicting emotions crashing harder. Careening. Making it feel like my insides were being battered.