Indulging in Irene Page 3

  “I digress. I’m sure you’ll meet her soon. So, tell me, Zolten, how do you see your career progressing with us.”

  “Please, call me Zolt.” Like that, we were off on a thirty-minute conversation about my desires and such, and how I could best help the firm. I tried to keep my head in the conversation, but all I could think about was the portrait over my shoulder and wonder when I’d meet her.

  Somehow, I stayed focused enough to hold up my end of the conversation. I knew part of the reason Wilkes had brought me on was a desire to expand into the sports arena and the representation of athletes. I wasn’t completely against pursuing that, but honestly, football and I were still on the outs. I felt like a jilted spouse whose partner had betrayed him. It was stupid to feel that way. Even so, I wasn’t exactly ready to jump back into bed with my ex.

  By the time the meeting was over, my head was spinning with possibilities. Thank God, I had walked out with a few cases involving corporate mergers to keep me busy.

  Before I left his office, I stole one more peek at the portrait. I needed to end this romantic notion that began to form in my head. I knew it had more to do with the injury and less to do with her. But to know that she existed freaked me out.

  She was my angel, my seraph.

  I went back to my office and took the brownie out of my bag. In two bites, it was gone. I leaned back in my chair and waited for the high to come as I replayed what I believed was a hallucination. Looking at it now, and knowing it wasn’t a dream, sent my pulse racing. Not only was she real, but she had a name, and she was right under my nose.

  Fuck!

  When Wilkes told me that Irelyn had cried the whole way home and for a week after, I almost lost it. It took everything in me to stay. Thankfully, I was still able to put on a game face when needed.

  The rest of the day, I split between settling into my office and taking a preliminary look at my assigned cases while trying not to obsess over Irelyn Wilkes.

  By the end of the day, I was more than ready to be done. I’d sent Liza home an hour before, seeing no reason to keep her. I picked up my bag and my jacket, slung both over my shoulder, and then started down the hall to the front entrance. Surprisingly enough, or not, many of the offices were still occupied. I stopped and thought twice about leaving. Would it look poorly on me if I didn’t stay? I could stay, but these cases were cake. I was sure I’d have them wrapped up in the next few days. I needed to get the fuck out of here and go home, smoke some bowls and chill.

  Shrugging, I continued toward the door. I walked by the copy room when a slew of cursing stopped me short. In the room, I found a woman bent over the copier, trying to clear a paper jam. At least that was what I assumed. Her long, golden-blonde hair curtained her face and obscured her actions. It didn’t matter what she was doing. Her body-hugging dress told me all I needed to know. This woman had a body to die for. My cock twitched, and I shifted uncomfortably as my pants tightened.

  Though the view was too perfect, I cleared my throat to announce my presence. “Can I help you?”

  The woman started and lifted her head. With a toss of her silky hair off her face, she smiled up at me. “Could you? I really hate these—”

  She stopped and stared at me, and I stared right back. Even if I hadn’t seen her portrait in Wilkes’s office, I’d have known who she was. I took a step back and forced moisture into my suddenly dry mouth.

  “Zolten Hamil?” she said.

  “Irelyn Wilkes?” I returned.

  We laughed. I swear it was like a meet cute from a romantic comedy film.

  She was real and standing in front of me, and I found it hard to breathe. Irelyn was perfect in every way. Suddenly, she wasn’t just a young girl on the sidelines, but a beautiful woman with a body to die for. My body reacted immediately to hers.

  We stood there for who knows how long. Energy crackled between us, and I felt as though there was an invisible string between us, pulling us together. I took a step forward.

  “How do you know me? I mean, obviously I know who you are. But me?” She patted her chest with her hand just above her cleavage.

  I tried not to stare at her tits, but she directed my eyes to them by placing her hand there. Of course, my cock had to put in his two cents.

  Down boy, down!

  “I was in your father’s office today, and I saw the family portrait.”

  And six years ago you helped me in a way no one else did. Six years ago, your face was burned into my gray matter.

  “Oh,” she said, her gaze darkening her gorgeous sable-browns further. Her mouth frowned slightly. “The one with Christopher, I expect.”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “Anyway, let’s have a look.”

  I dropped my bag and jacket and walked over to the copier, trying my best not to limp. But my leg was tired, and not limping wasn’t an option.

  The look in her eyes said it all.

  Pity.

  I fucking hated pity, so I turned my face. But when I turned back to her, I realized it wasn’t pity, but compassion. It was a need to change what had happened, and it was the same look I’d latched on to six years ago.

  My breath hitched. This was just too fucking surreal. I kept my demeanor flat, not wanting to let her see how she affected me.

  “Lucky for you, my last law firm had the same copier/printer combo. I can’t remember how many times I had to unjam it.”

  “Well, it’s my lucky day.” She smiled widely, a beautiful, all-teeth smile that lit her eyes. This close to her, I could see the nuances. Flecks of gold and green made the brown even more entrancing, and I had to stop myself from sucking in a breath that would have surely given me away.

  Since when did you become such a pussy, Zolt? You’re acting like a character in a fucking Nicholas Sparks novel.

  In an attempt to save my manhood, I started working on the jam. I turned a few knobs, flipped this lever and that, found the offending jammed piece of paper, and pulled it out. I wadded the paper into a ball, and tossed it across the room, hitting the recycle bin dead center.

  “Very nice. I see your arm is still in fine form.” Irelyn quirked a smile at me, and I grinned back at her like a fool.

  What the fuck? I’m the dark and brooding ex-football player. Quit acting like a pussy.

  “Yeah, well,” I said with a shrug. “Shall I press the start button or do you want to?”

  “Uh, I will. I guess. If this thing jams on me one more time, I’ll kill myself.”

  “Okay, but that seems like an extreme solution. Shall I send yellow or white?”

  “Yellow or white what?”

  “Roses. To your funeral,” I said, then instantly wanted to slap myself. I was such a dumbass. This Zolt was an anomaly. The real Zolt was dark and very much an asshole. Ask Miss No-name from last night. She could tell you all about him.

  “Oh!” She giggled and punched me playfully on the arm.

  I almost couldn’t stand it. I knew then, I needed to get away from her. This woman, whom I’d known all of five minutes—or six years—was bad news. The kind of bad news that had me imagining things that I didn’t need to be thinking about.

  Seriously, I needed to get a grip.

  I watched her push the button, and then jump up and down with delight when her document started printing.

  Fuck! Her tits jiggled deliciously in front of my face, and I felt my cock harden and my pants tighten further.

  Now, this was the Zolt I knew.

  Irelyn reached up and kissed my cheek. “Thank you so much, Zolten. Daddy would have had my ass if this wasn’t on his desk by morning.”

  Holy hell did she smell good. Not too sweet, not too flowery. Just the right amount of both with a touch of spice added in. The feel of her soft lips on my cheek made me imagine what they’d feel like all over my body.

  “Uh, well, glad I could, uh, save your ass. So to speak,” I said in a low tone. I didn’t mean for it to sound sexual. But, fuck, did you see her ass? I did. The idea of bending h
er over the copier seemed like a great idea. “Call me Zolt. Glad I could help.”

  I walked over to my bag and jacket, picked them up, and reluctantly headed for the door. The words “Want to have a drink with me?” poised on my lips. I licked them and swallowed the words. She was the founding partner’s daughter, and she was off-limits.

  “Hey, Zolt,” Irelyn called.

  I turned around and found her smiling at me once more.

  “Welcome to the firm. I hope you like it here.”

  Giving her a brief smile, I nodded, and then walked out.

  Are you kidding me? My life had changed in one afternoon. I was pretty sure I’d just found trouble, and her name was Irelyn.

  Rachel flung herself on my bed. “So, how’d the rest of your day go?”

  “Fine,” I answered her as I stripped off my dress and changed into shorts and my Van Halen shirt. I know, most of my friends think Van Halen is old school, but Chris and I loved them until they dumped Sammy Hagar. We used to hop in the Mustang, drive too fast with Cabo Wabo blasting. I hugged myself, and let my happy memories of my brother wash over me, praying the nasty images of him lying in a pool of his own blood with his face bashed in didn’t invade and overtake the good ones.

  “Just fine? Did you meet him,” Rachel asked as she scrolled through my iPod looking for a song.

  “I did.” I kept my answer short, knowing it would drive her crazy.

  “Come on, Irelyn. Spill.”

  “Well, I was in the copy room trying to unjam a document from the copier/printer beast. I swear that damn thing has it out for me.”

  “And,” she said, making a hurry-up motion with her hands.

  “And Zolt came in and fixed the stupid machine.”

  “Okay. What else?”

  “Nothing else.” I sat on the edge of my bed and tied my sneakers. “He was real sweet. Then, he left.”

  “So that’s it? You meet the man you’ve had this weird obsession with for six years and all he does is fix your copier?”

  “Yeah. What did you think he was going to do, Rach? Bend me over the copier and fuck me?” I knew I blushed as soon as I said it; I could feel my cheeks heat. Honestly, I’d had that exact thought while we stood in the copy room.

  She gave me a wicked smile and nodded. “So is he still cute? Please, tell me he is.”

  “He is. I mean, he isn’t as muscular as he used to be, and his face has matured. All of which is to be expected. I have to say, he might be even more attractive. His hair is still dark brown. It’s longer now, and I can see waves in it I didn’t remember from before. He must spend time in the sun because I could see the natural, lighter brown highlights.”

  “Is he married? Did he have a ring on?” Rach asked and threw the iPod on the bed, giving up on finding whatever song she’d been looking for.

  “He doesn’t wear a ring. And…” I smiled sheepishly. “I looked at his personnel record in the system. He’s not married.”

  “Nice. Very sneaky of you, Irelyn. I applaud your deviousness.” Her honey-brown eyes sparkled with approval.

  I curtsied. “Ha. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

  “True. Did he flirt with you? Come on. What was your read?”

  “I don’t know,” I lied. We’d had a moment. And I was pretty sure there was recognition in his eyes. His beautiful, crystalline-blue eyes. Sigh. “Okay, maybe he did flirt a little. And we both said each other’s name simultaneously. He said it was because he’d seen the portrait in Daddy’s office. Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “Why? Because of Marcus? Bitch, you need to dump his ass. Like yesterday.”

  “It’s not that easy, and you know that. Daddy is attached to him. Too attached. But you’re right; I do need to do something.”

  “Fuck Zolt Hamil. That’s what you need to do.”

  “Oh, my God, Rach, can you be any cruder?” I picked up a pillow and threw it at her, successfully deflecting her train of thought. “By the way, you need to do your roots. Your darker blonde is showing through your lighter blonde.”

  “Don’t try to change the subject. Your face gives you away. You’re beet red.”

  Rach was right, I thought ruefully. Maybe not about the Zolt part, but about everything else.

  “You need to find a man who can give you a throw your head back, teeth clenching, ripping at the sheets orgasm. Marcus is so not that person.”

  “Oh, and I suppose Cory is for you?”

  “You know it.” She gave me a large grin.

  Rachel, Cory, and I had grown up together. For years, he and Rachel had danced around their attraction. After Chris’s death, things changed between them. They were together now, and I loved it. In fact, I had gone with Cory to pick out an engagement ring for Rachael. I didn’t know when he would propose, but I knew it was coming. Despite the closeness the three of us shared, hearing about their sex life made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t a prude or anything, but Cory was like a brother to me. And, if I was being honest, I was jealous.

  More than anything, I wanted a man to take me. Scratch that. I needed a man to take me. Not in a violent way, but in a passionate, I can’t stand not to have you right now, kind of way. What I wouldn’t give to have a man throw me on a bed and fuck me senseless.

  Marcus would never be that man for me. He didn’t work that way, and I wasn’t attracted to him.

  Though I shouldn’t, I wondered if that man could be Zolt? It seemed as though we’d shared a spark….

  My Golden Retriever barked, bringing me back from my hot thoughts. I reached down and scratched his head. “Come on. Let’s take Rufus for a walk before I decide eating cookies is a better idea.”

  The rest of the week, I spent avoiding Zolt. I couldn’t afford to let a schoolgirl crush manifest. I had a boyfriend, and Zolt worked for Daddy. There were just too many things standing in our way. But that didn’t stop me from walking by his office a few times. I didn’t stop, of course. Well, that was a lie. I stopped once and waved when he saw me walk by. Other than that, I stayed away.

  Nighttime was a different story. Erotic dreams about him invaded my sleep. In some dreams, he’d throw me on the bed and fuck me. In others, we make slow, sweet love. The dreams were so vivid that I had a hard time coming out of them when I woke. Zolt was an amazing dream lover, and I couldn’t help but wonder how that would translate in real life.

  With these images in my head, I knew I had to stay away from him. If I actually talked to him, face to face, I’d turn crimson.

  I was doing great until Wednesday when Daddy assigned me to a case which sent me into the library to do research. Doing research in the library instead of online sucked ass.

  Methodically, I searched each stack, looking for the digest that held out-of-date tort law cases. Why Daddy insisted I research outdated cases when there were much more recent, on point ones, I had no clue. Whatever, if he wanted it, he’d get it.

  Running my fingers over each volume, I wasn’t paying attention to the fact another person stood to the right of me. Like a klutz, I ran smack into them. Several volumes fell to the floor, and I nearly landed on my ass.

  “Oof! Careful now,” he said gruffly. “Watch where you’re—Irelyn?”

  “Zolt.” I felt my cheeks heat and practically melt off my face as I rubbed my arm. He may not be in NFL shape anymore, but he packed enough muscle to knock the air out of a girl.

  The ache quickly turned into a different one entirely. Fuck, he was hot. The sapphire-blue of his shirt set off the crystalline-blue of his eyes. I knew I was staring into them, but I couldn’t stop myself. If that wasn’t bad enough, my fingers started to twitch with the need to run them through his waves. Brown waves that looked slightly messy in an arranged sort of way.

  A delicious fantasy of unbuttoning his shirt and licking my way down his chest started to form in my head, dampening my panties.

  “I’m so sorry. Obviously, I wasn’t paying attention,�
�� I said with a mouth that had gone suddenly dry.

  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Zolt ran his hand down my arm and our gazes caught. A zap of chemistry sizzled between us. Our attraction had morphed into a tangible energy that crackled and snapped.

  We both drew in a breath.

  “Uh, no. I’m fine,” I eked out. Then, I took an involuntary step back as an image of Zolt lying on the field with his broken leg blitzed my brain like NFL defensive backs attack the quarterback. I dipped my head and let my hair fall to curtain my expression. The memory was as vivid as the day it happened.

  A rough, slightly callused thumb and forefinger lifted my chin, and Zolt pushed my hair over my shoulder.

  “Don’t, Irelyn. Don’t go there. There’s no point of it.” His hand grazed my cheek and lingered there. I swear my heart stuttered to a stop. For a minute, we both stood there, staring at each other, an entire conversation happening silently between us. A silent thank you from him, and an apology from me for not doing more.

  “So, what brings you to the stacks?” Zolt asked after he cleared his voice and dropped his hand.

  I rolled my eyes and sighed heavily. It was a sigh of both futility and exasperation, knowing that I couldn’t have Zolt even if he was interested.

  “Daddy has me down here chasing some elusive tort case from the 1950’s. I mean, if it isn’t on West Law does it really exist?”

  “The Lewis decision for the Swagger case?” Zolt asked, arching a brow.

  “Yes! What the hell? Why does he have us both looking for the same thing? Certainly, there’s enough current case law to justify his argument.” I leaned down and started to gather the books that had fallen from the shelf.

  Zolt leaned down to help, and we both grabbed for the same book at the same time. His large hand covered mine, and the contact electrified me once again. I took in his beautiful hand, a hand that used to throw perfect spirals down the field. More than anything, I wanted to feel that hand skim my body as we made love.

  I cursed myself for giving into to such a silly fantasy. It could and would never happen. Still, I didn’t move my hand.