The Defender

“Gummy bears will have to wait. I’ll see what else we’ve got.”

Russ came back with two cans of cola—one diet, one regular. Smart man to not assume she’d want the diet.

She took the diet. It wasn’t a double-shot latte, but it would do. Another marshal—this one not as big—came through the mudroom, followed by Elizabeth and her son, Sam. The boy’s eyes were big and round and dark like his father’s had been—at least from the pictures Penny had seen. In those eyes there was sadness no twelve-year old should know.

And just seconds ago, Penny had been entertaining wicked thoughts about Russ. How awful could she be? She had clients to care for and she was acting like a high-school twit.

She leaped off the couch, went to Elizabeth and, setting the lawyer persona aside for a second, hugged her. They’d given the woman a rushed explanation and thirty minutes to pack. She probably needed a friend as well as an attorney right now. “I’m sorry for the short notice.”

“It’s okay. If it came from you, I knew it was necessary.”

Penny backed away, spotted Brent on the stairs. He gave a thumbs-up. She set a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Hey, pal. My guess is there are a few bedrooms up those stairs. How about you and your mom go up and pick a room?”

“Really?”

“Yep. You’re going to have a little vacation here.”

One in which you will barely be allowed outside. She wouldn’t say that, though. Certain things were better left unsaid.

Penny turned to Brent. “They can go up, right?”

“All clear. We’ll be outside. Everyone stays inside. Holler if you need anything.”

Elizabeth and Sam made their way upstairs, their footsteps clunking on the wood and echoing through the ceiling.

Russ flopped onto the sofa and stretched his arms across the back. “What do you need?”

She needed a lot of things. Things she wanted him to give her. She cocked her head, then took the chair across from him. No chance she’d risk being on the same sofa. Not with the heat they’d conjured a few minutes ago. That kind of heat had no place in this house when there was a woman and her son who needed their lawyer to be focused. No, sirree.

“You’re thinking,” he said. “I can see it. You do this thing with your eyebrows. They sort of come up and together. It’s your tell.”

“Really? Huh.”

“I saw it in court that day. Right before you fried my intestines.”

“Russell, get over it already.”

He smiled, all sweet-talking, good-looking boy, and her stomach hitched again. He did that to her. Made her feel things she shouldn’t feel about a man who only wanted to clear a case. Focus on your client.

“I like reminding you,” he said. “It gets you stirred up and you’re fun when you’re stirred up.”

Men. Pigs. Every one of them. “Heath will call me tomorrow. I have to tell him something. I’m not sure what that is. So, to answer your question, what I need is to come up with a plan.”

“You want my opinion?”

Here’s a first. Defense attorney Penny asking an FBI agent—any law-enforcement officer, for that matter—for his opinion. Most law-enforcement members would happily offer an opinion, but it might be more along the lines of Penny taking a trip to hell. She supposed she couldn’t blame them, but she knew how to do her job. A job that protected the constitutional rights of American citizens.

Penny leaned her head against the chair cushion. “I’m thinking I should tell him I’ll do it. I’ll lie to him. Tell him I’ll need time to slowly warm Elizabeth up to the idea of not testifying so it looks legit. He can’t argue that. He knows she’s smart and will be suspicious if I’ve suddenly changed my mind about her testifying.”

“When he calls tomorrow, tell him you’ll convince her not to testify. It’ll buy us time to question her. Meantime, we’re looking for Heath and his shooter from yesterday. We’ll talk to people, shake up his contacts. When we find him, we’ll lock him up.”

Penny pushed her palms into her forehead. “This is insanity. I have to tell my family. We’re all in danger.”

Russ rose from the sofa and edged around the coffee table, testing his weight on it before sitting down.

A vision of the table collapsing under him flashed and she clucked her tongue. “I’d have loved to have seen you fall flat on your bum if that table collapsed.”

He glanced at the table and wiggled on it before grinning at her. “It stinks that you’re a defense attorney.”

Oh, that playful smile of his might undo her altogether.

“I’ll help you with your family,” he said. “I’m close to getting this guy and now he’s admitted he set up that shooting yesterday. He’s desperate. Otherwise, he doesn’t make that call.” He touched her arm. “It may not seem like it, but you’ve got the power here. You can destroy this guy.”

She barely knew Russell Voight and he’d managed to figure out what she needed. She didn’t need to be coddled or patronized or babied. What she needed was to be reminded of her strength. Most men would rush in and tell her what to do. Russ? He told her she had power.

Then he touched her arm and the gentle press blazed inside her. She looked up at him, into those dark eyes that were at once so expressive and yet so distant and she wanted to jump him.

Fast.

Right in this Pottery Barn house with Elizabeth and Sam upstairs and two U.S. marshals outside.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“You okay?” he asked.

No. Wow, she was in deep doo-doo here. She lowered her voice and leaned closer. “I’m totally thinking X-rated thoughts about you.”

* * *

OF ALL THE WOMEN Russ shouldn’t want, Penny Hennings charged him up like no one he’d ever experienced. She drove him out of his mind with the snarky comments and her general distrust of law enforcement. And he still wanted her. Seriously twisted. “How X-rated?” he whispered.

“Russell!”

“Is it triple X or just single?”

Penny slapped her palm against her forehead. “I wasn’t thinking that detailed. It was a few seconds. That’s all. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Hey, these things are good to know.”

She shook her head. “But I shouldn’t be thinking that way. We’ve got a lot going on here and the distraction won’t do anyone any good.”

“Can I fill you in on something?”

“Sure.”

“It’s probably a reaction to your string of incidents over two days. I’m the lucky guy here when it happened.”

“Says the man who had an erection yesterday?”

He closed his eyes. She had to bring that up.

Finally, he opened his eyes, kept his gaze focused and steady. “Part of it was adrenaline, but part of it wasn’t. The part that wasn’t is the problem. I’m close to bringing this guy down and your client can make that happen.” He ran a finger down her cheek and over her jaw. Something he’d wanted to do every day since he’d first seen her from the witness box.

“Russell—”

“Shh. From the day you shredded me on the stand, I’ve thought about you. You’re beautiful and sexy and mouthy and—freak that I am—that’s a huge turn-on. Except the risk is too high.”

But, yeah, he wanted to roll in sheets with her. Naked and sweating and exploring.

His presence in her life revolved around Elizabeth Brooks and Colin Heath. Getting emotional about a case created no issues, but he wanted it to be the right emotions. The ones where he went to the wall to lock up the bad guy. Penny in his bed wouldn’t make that happen.

Sam’s voice sounded from the upstairs hallway and Russ boosted off the table. “We shouldn’t talk about this now.”

Penny glanced at the staircase, then tapped three fingers against her forehead. “You’re right. I’ll check on Elizabeth and Sam and we’ll get started.”

It took twenty minutes for Russ to bring Elizabeth Brooks up to speed. It was all fairly simple. Penny would take the Colin Heath heat while Elizabeth and her son stayed in the safe house, under the protection of U.S. marshals. During that time, she would share with the FBI everything she knew about Heath’s pump-and-dump scheme.

Penny, sitting next to Elizabeth on the sofa, touched her hand. “Are you okay with this? If not, we’ll figure something else out.”

Uh, no. They wouldn’t.

If Russ had to go to war with Penny, no matter how physically attracted to her he was, he’d do it and it would be bloody. He’d busted his tail getting his superiors to sign off on this operation, one that would cost the U.S. taxpayers a nice chunk of change, and he wasn’t about to let the lawyer blow his case for him.

“There’s nothing else to figure out,” he said.

Slowly, Penny angled her head toward him, her nostrils flaring only enough that, had he not studied her body language since the day he’d met her, he would have missed it. That look? The Killer Cupcake look.

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