The cougar inside her
purrs at his touch, but is she willing to pay the price for succumbing to
temptation?
Thirty-eight-year-old Samantha Owen worked hard to earn the
distinction of being the most respected divorce attorney in Sandton, South
Africa. Ethical and politically correct conduct ensure she remains at the top
of her game and in high demand by rich and influential clients.
When the arrogant and sinfully rich international rugby
player, Brent Russell, saunters into Samantha’s office, he evokes flashes of
satin sheets and tangled bodies in her mind. But, despite resembling a Greek
god and setting her body on fire, he is off-limits. Twelve years younger than
her and her client’s soon to be ex-husband, Samantha could be disbarred by just
talking to Brent without his attorney present. Besides, Samantha never dates
married men—ever.
Used to getting his own way and determined to have her in
his bed, Brent embarks on a relentless pursuit of Samantha. Despite Samantha
returning his gifts and refusing to consider having dinner with him, he slowly
erodes all her objections to an affair between them. Only when he uses his fame
to finalise the divorce while Samantha is on her annual leave, does she agree
to accompany him for a holiday on his farm at Komatipoort—a decision that could
cost her both her reputation and career.
Excerpt:
Samantha Owen stared at the petite blonde woman seated
opposite her. The woman sounded sincere enough, but something kept tinkering at
the back of her mind. As an attorney, she’d learnt to heed those warnings and
now the bells chimed like those on top of the church.
“Amber, are you sure you’ve told me everything? I don’t want
any surprises during our meeting this afternoon.”
The blonde woman flicked her Barbie-doll hair over her
shoulder and pouted. “I told you. The two-timing scum needs to pay. It’s not as
if he can’t afford it, as you well know. He’s just being spiteful.”
Heavens, was she ever so young and arrogant? Samantha
suppressed a sigh. Sometimes she wondered if her reputation of always being
ethical and fair in divorce cases wasn’t too much of a burden to bear. Clients
like Amber Russell would tempt the patience of a saint. Refusing the more than
generous settlement offer the other party had made, reeked of spite on her
side, not her estranged husband’s.
“Fine, but you know I will withdraw as your attorney if they
spring any surprises on us today.”
“Whatever.”
Normally Samantha couldn’t care less about her client’s
indifference, but she’d had a long day, with this particular client sauntering
in from the streets of Sandton too many times during the past week. Right now,
she’d rather be at home, barefoot and cooking for a bunch of students who only
wanted their next warm meal from her.
She glanced at her watch. If the attorney for the defendant
stayed true to form, he and his client should arrive within the next three
minutes. Although Rob Bentley appeared flustered and absentminded, Samantha had
quickly learnt that it was all a façade. The attorney had a razor-sharp mind
that could sift through the muck in any divorce case to find the core of the
dispute. It was always a pleasure to deal with him on the opposing side.
“Let’s move to the conference table, shall we?”
After gathering her documents, she walked around the large
mahogany desk towards the round wooden table in the corner. She’d purposely
placed the conference table far from the wall-to-wall windows so the view over
the city couldn’t distract them. She chose the chairs facing the window for
herself and her client, leaving her opponents looking at a painting of two
wolves at loggerheads.
A discreet knock sounded on the outer door and Samantha
flattened her palms over her tight fitting pencil skirt then buttoned her
jacket. With a final glance at her client fiddling with her iPad, she reached
for the door.
“Good afternoon, Rob, Mister Russell.”
She shook hands with the attorney and waved him towards the
conference table. “Please have a seat.” Then she craned her neck to greet her
client’s husband and the bottom dropped out of her stomach.
Vivid blue eyes
stared straight through her and jet-black hair curled over the collar in his
neck. The corners of his mouth tilted upwards as the same blue eyes glided like
a caress over the length of her body. Like he’d just unwrapped a new present,
he took his time inspecting her grey jacket, white silk blouse, pencil skirt,
stockings and lastly her two-inch heels. His tongue moistened his lower lip as he
focused on the traitorous tips of her breasts jutting through the thin material
of her jacket. Under his scrutiny, they puckered to an almost painful hardness.
Who let this man out
without a health warning? Dressed in a dark sports jacket, which he filled
to the brim, formal black pants that contributed nothing to hide the muscled
thighs underneath and a navy shirt without a tie, he epitomised what Samantha
thought a Greek god should look like. She wiped her palm on her skirt and
swallowed at the sudden dryness in her throat.
When their eyes met, her body tingled and heat suffused her
face. The unconcealed want in his gaze clamped her chest in a vice and sent her
pulse rocking. Breathe Samantha, this is
no time for thirty-eight-year-old attorneys to consider playing cougar.
Besides, he is your client’s husband, for heaven’s sake. She forced air
into her lungs and her mind cleared a little.
He stuck out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Owen.”
BRENT'S LAW by Ylette Pearson is available from Totally Bound
No comments:
Post a Comment