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  The lawyer next to her stood and approached the prospective jurors, drawing her attention. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning,” JT grumbled along with the rest of the candidates.

  “I’m Alex Sheridan, prosecutor in this case. Thank you for taking time away from your busy lives to serve the State of Colorado. I’ll do my best to make this jury selection efficient and fair.” He stepped back, and the defense attorney got up and said something similar. JT grunted. Promises from lawyers meant nothing to him.

  The prosecutor returned and asked general questions of the entire panel. ‘Have you ever been convicted of a felony?’ No. ‘Do you know any of the parties involved in the case?’ No. ‘Have you served on a jury before?’ No. ‘Have you ever been involved in a court proceeding?’ Aw shit. “Yes.”

  Sheridan stopped in front of him. “Criminal or civil?”

  “Civil.”

  He nodded and moved on, but when the defense attorney got up, he fired straight at JT. “Mr. Luck, what kind of civil proceeding was it?”

  Damn it. So long ago he’d almost put it behind him, but when he’d gotten the jury summons in the mail a month ago, the memories flooded back. “Custody fight.” But it wasn’t much of one. His mother had practically handed JT and his sister over to their dad. I don’t want them, she’d said.

  “Were you the parent or the child?”

  “The child.” He sat back and crossed his arms, refusing to give the persistent ass any more information than he’d asked for.

  The beautiful woman sitting with the prosecutor shifted in her chair, clunking her bracelet on the table as she leaned her head in her hand and gave JT a smile that reached out and touched him. Her eyes reflected the same pain that had knifed through him when the judge pronounced his family’s fate. She’s been there. He winked back at her, and the defense attorney pounced on him.

  “Do you know Ms. O’Connor?”

  Ms… single? His gaze met hers, and her sleek brown hair caressed her shoulders as she swept it behind her ear. Everything about her body screamed ‘touch me!’

  “No, but I’d like to.”

  “Objection!” The shocked lawyer whirled toward the judge.

  Her Honor raised an eyebrow. “To what? Answering with complete honesty as I instructed?”

  The prosecutor snickered and Ms. Rebel bit her lip. Then she shuffled through a stack of papers and pulled one to the top.

  “However,” the judge cleared her throat and shot a pointed stare at JT, “I must caution you that if you are selected, communication between jurors and attorneys or their teams is strictly forbidden.”

  “Yes, Your Honor.” He tangled his fingers in the chain around his neck, clutching the stone arrowhead dangling from it. Dismiss me, dismiss me. His lucky charm had gotten him out of unpleasant situations more than once.

  The prosecutor’s sexy companion shot JT a glance. Her lips pressed together in a stern line, but her eyes danced as if she’d discovered some delightful secret. He shifted to accommodate the uprising in his jeans. Maybe he couldn’t talk to her, but he’d damn sure take every opportunity to look at her amazing breasts and luscious ass.

  One by one potential jurors left the courtroom while others filed into the jury box—but JT’s ass remained firmly planted in the number four seat.

  “Your Honor,” the prosecutor addressed the judge. “The State accepts the jury panel as seated.”

  Damn it.

  The defense attorney agreed, and the judge swore JT and his eleven companions into service. She then called a brief recess, and he took the opportunity to send an email to his office manager. He’d be out the rest of the day, possibly all week.

  Ms. Rebel frowned as she watched him settle in seat number four, perhaps disappointed that they were legally prohibited from seeing each other. His luck had failed this time, but maybe fate would turn his civic duty into something much more rewarding.

  ***

  Juror number four’s gaze burned through Claire’s red blouse. It travelled from her head to her toes, leaving her skin tingling as if he’d caressed her naked body. She’d read his questionnaire: age, 33; sex, male—obviously—Bachelor’s degree, self-employed, and… yes! Single. But he’d been selected to serve, and the judge specially warned him away from her.

  Oh well.

  Claire wrote his name on her legal pad. Jared Tucker Luck. As soon as the trial ended and the jury was officially dismissed, she’d offer him personal legal services. Now he’s the guy to end my dry spell. She just had to keep her legs crossed a little while longer. His hair hung a bit shorter than Will’s but long enough to fall into his eyes and be swept behind his ears. Rawr.

  But the familiar pain that drew her to him, an irresistible force that held her in his magnetic grasp, ran deeper than the physical attraction. He understands.

  How could she know that? They hadn’t even spoken to each other and the law forbade them to do so, but somehow a wink and a smile expressed more than mere words ever could.

  Her face flushed hot as Alex stood and delivered his opening statement. Claire had heard him practice it so many times that she knew every word, especially the circumstances of the victim’s disappearance. Her parents had recently separated, and they had a temporary custody agreement in place, but neither had remembered who was supposed to pick her up from school on that Thursday. Her father was busy packing up his things while her mother supervised, yelling at him the whole time. Michelle decided to walk to her father’s new house, and had disappeared en route. No one had ever seen her again.

  Claire shuddered as Alex told the story, remembering how easily and how often her parents had forgotten about her.

  She tuned him out and watched him pace in front of the jury box, letting her gaze rest on Mr. Luck as her boss walked by him. The yummy juror had shrugged off his beaten-up leather jacket and rolled up the sleeves on his blue plaid shirt. His faded jeans fit snug across muscular thighs, and she’d caught a glimpse of worn work books when he’d kicked his feet up on the jury box. No desk job for this civil servant.

  His attentive gaze followed Alex, but when the prosecutor circled back, the wayward juror smiled in Claire’s direction. She might’ve missed it if she hadn’t been studying him so closely, but when he shook his bangs from his face, his blue eyes sparkled with blatant disregard for the judge’s warning.

  She leaned back in her seat and fanned herself with the stack of questionnaires. What happened to the air conditioning? Oh wait, it’s December. She didn’t dare unbutton her blouse in court, so she gathered her hair at the back of her neck and draped it over one shoulder. Alex had warned her not to call attention to herself, and wearing red pushed the envelope. Tomorrow she’d wear her boring navy blazer, but tonight, she’d go shopping for some blue peep-toe heels.

  Alex sat down beside her. “Pay attention to the jury,” he whispered. “I need you to observe and record their reactions to testimony.” He drew a simple diagram of the jury box and numbered each seat.

  Claire took the pad he slid over. “Yes, sir,” she responded with more excitement than she intended to reveal.

  Alex raised an eyebrow, then sat back and listened to the defense’s opening statement while she mentally counted each juror and circled number four. She wrote detailed notes for each juror as witnesses took the stand.

  When the forensic expert got technical, Claire’s mind wandered down the hallway behind the courtrooms to a holding cell used for dangerous defendants.

  “In here.” She stepped aside as the bailiff shoved a rather indignant offender through the door. “I can handle him.”

  The guard locked the cell and left them alone.

  The prisoner—the impudent Juror Number Four—spun and smiled at her. “I’d like to see that.”

  “You will. But first, I have to conduct a search to make sure you’re not hiding any dangerous weapons.” Her gaze slid to the bulge in his crotch.

  “Do it at your own risk.” With his hands cuffed beh
ind his back, he could do nothing to stop her.

  “I intend to.” She reached for his belt buckle.

  He leaned back against the wall and surrendered.

  “Objection!” Alex jumped up beside Claire and snapped her back to reality. “Counsel is badgering the witness.”

  “Sustained.” The judge rapped her gavel.

  Claire buried her nose in her notes, hoping no one noticed the heat on her face, especially the certain someone in the jury box who’d caused it. She focused on the testimony again, no matter how boring it got, and at the end of the day, she handed her observations to Alex… minus the scandalous sex fantasy.

  “Good work, very thorough.” He studied the diagram. “Why the circle around four?”

  “Huh?” She scrambled for a plausible excuse. “He’s the one the judge warned about ex parte communication.” And he’s freaking gorgeous.

  “Right.” Alex tucked her notes in his file. “Be at the office at eight tomorrow morning.” He smiled and patted her shoulder. “Thanks for your help today.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “Pleasure?” His eyebrow arched.

  Claire hugged her notes to her chest and brushed by him—out the door and down the hall. The line for the elevators was backed up to the courtroom, so she ducked into the stairwell. The crown thinned out before she got to the parking garage, so when her name echoed through the empty space, she froze and the hairs on her neck tingled.

  “Hey, O’Connor. Step over here.”

  She turned slowly, daring to peek over her shoulder, and spotted Juror Number Four standing in a dim alcove beside the stairwell exit. He smiled and beckoned her. She nearly had an orgasm on the spot.

  Ignore him. Merely acknowledging his presence would violate the judge’s orders and put the trial at risk. She glanced around the deserted garage. After five o’clock hit, the courthouse emptied in a hurry. Just find out what he wants. No one will see you.

  Claire chewed her lip. What if he wants me? She had to know. After one more quick scan of her surroundings, she scooted into the dark with him. “What do you think you’re doing? We can’t talk to each other! Did anyone see you?”

  He grinned and cradled her elbow, pulling her deeper into the shadows—and closer to himself. “Probably everyone in the building. Lots of people, including other jurors and lawyers, took the stairs. I could’ve been following anyone.”

  Her heart raced. Walking through a parking garage alone scared the living daylights out of her even in daylight. Panicked thoughts of being stalked by a strange man lurking in hidden corners occupied her mind at every step. “But you followed me.” Being trapped by this man however….

  “With evil intent.”

  “So you were listening to Alex’s opening argument.”

  “Every damn word.” The mischief in his eyes fled and a troubled look crept over his face. “Did the case creep you out as much as it did me? If that girl’s parents had just paid attention to her, cared about her enough to know where she was supposed to be….” A violent shiver shook him and he crossed his arms, rubbing his shoulders as if to calm himself.

  “Yes.” She whispered.

  His jaw twitched as if her answer had triggered an unpleasant memory. He’d been a victim of neglect, or at the very least, suffered his parent’s indifference just as she had.

  “We cannot talk about the trial!”

  “Got it.” His eyes crinkled as his unruly smile reappeared, seeming to chasing away old fears. “I have to confess to lusting over you whenever a lawyer wasn’t talking.” He leaned back against the concrete wall, a casual pose to anyone who might be looking, but Claire saw the raw sex that smoldered underneath.

  Way too many lawyers talking. “So apparently you ignored the judge.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time I disregarded the law.”

  Oh how I’d love to hear that story. But any conversation with a juror during the trial put Alex’s case at risk. “We cannot be seen together! There are security cameras everywhere.”

  He shook his head. “Except in this one overlooked corner. It’s the only blind spot in the building.”

  Dear God, is he a stalker? “How do you know that?”

  “Because I helped build it.”

  She remembered seeing “construction” listed as his occupation. “Does that mean I’m safe with you?” Did she want him to answer that? If so, how?

  His blue eyes sparkled in the dim light, and his grin spread wide, revealing the evil intent he’d confessed to earlier. He slid his hand into her hair and stepped close, his lips just a hot breath from hers. “Never.”

  Shivers ran down her spine, and she hugged her notes to her chest like a shield. With a few words, this man had become a danger to Alex, their case, and the entire justice system. He may have presented no threat to her life or valuables, but talking with him could mean the end of her legal career. And yet, she lowered her defenses and put her uncorrupted soul in peril by lingering in that secret spot. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to deliver the invitation on her lips.

  The errant juror had no such reservations. “Have dinner with me.”

  In any other circumstances, she’d be free to accept. The laws of the State of Colorado, and possibly the United States—she’d have to research that—forbade her to talk to him. Technically, just saying no could get her thrown in jail. “I can’t.”

  “That’s exactly why you should.”

  Grr… why did he have to get selected? “Mr. Luck, we need to end this conversation.”

  “JT.”

  “JT, thank you for your invitation, but I can’t go out with you.” She slid her files between them again and walked away.

  He remained hidden in the shadows, but his words pursued her. “But you want to, Rebel.”

  Her pumps scraped the concrete floor as she stopped and turned. “Excuse me? My name is Claire.”

  A smile lit the dark. “Hmm… no. Too ordinary for you. You’re a rebel in your screaming red blouse, and heels that have to violate the dress-code.”

  Claire gasped. “I never violated anything.”

  “You will.” The unmistakable promise in his eyes heated their private space. “You did the moment you spoke to me. Take a chance. Dinner with me.” He emphasized the last three words as if offering a lottery jackpot.

  Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner! The man’s arrogant invitation demanded acceptance, not because he’d said so, but because she’d lacked male companionship too long. But no, she’d taken a chance on a wild fling before, and ended up the loser… again. “I’m not a gambler.”

  He stepped into the light. “I am.”

  “Are you willing to risk this trial? Throw justice right out the window?” If he said yes, if he cared so little….

  “No.” He dropped back into the shadows.

  Her fear of being caught disappeared, replaced by a more sickening dread that churned her stomach. JT had committed to the spirit of the law, if not the letter, but would he show the same devotion to her?

  She’d misjudged men before. Will had seemed like a dependable man, but as a couple, they’d burned out fast. Could a guy who flaunted the law give her the stability she wanted? Michael had been secure… with his work. JT appeared to be both dependable and secure, but someone who tossed aside a judge’s orders like yesterday’s sandwich should be avoided at all costs.

  “What if…?” Cheese and rice! What are you thinking? “I live on the west side, far away from the courthouse. We can’t go out in public, so what if you came over to my place?” The invitation escaped her before she could change her mind. “Tomorrow night. I’ll order dinner. We could stay inside, close all the blinds….” What other precautions should she take?

  “Can’t do it.”

  “Oh.” Of course, now that she’d reminded him of his legal obligation, he had to say no. She stared at the floor, frowning at the scuff on her shoe.

  “Tonight?”

  That promising word lifted her spir
it. She looked up and blinked until her eyes adjusted. Dangerous merriment lit his face, and a mental list of all the obstacles to tonight raced through her brain. She hadn’t done the breakfast dishes, her half-folded laundry still lay on her coffee table. Did I make my bed?

  “I’m not ready.”

  “Get ready.”

  Oh and that pesky thing called the law. “But we just met.” That’s your excuse?

  Laughter echoed through the garage, and Claire darted into the corner, cowering against JT’s quaking chest and searching for the source.

  He gasped and inhaled. “That’s the worst brush-off I’ve ever heard.”

  “You’re the one laughing?”

  “Good joke, Reb. Tell me another one.”

  She pushed off him and smoothed her rumpled blouse. “I’m leaving.”

  “I’ll follow.”

  “No, no, no, no, no.” She shushed him and drove him back. “It’s too dangerous. Give me an hour.”

  “Give me your address.”

  She searched for a pen, but decided against writing anything down. “It’s 3321 Aspen Drive, Wheat Ridge. Remember it. No paper trail, no texts, nothing that could be used as evidence.” Alex had taught her well.

  “I know that neighborhood.”

  She’d interrogate him later. “Good, then you won’t get lost.”

  He put his hands on her shoulders and slid them down her arms, pulling her close. “Afraid of losing me, Rebel?” His body brushed hers, and the friction between them warmed that cold, dark corner.

  Afraid of missing the opportunity to explore the smoldering sexuality underneath his laid-back charm? “Not at all.”

  “One hour.” His gaze drifted over her shoulder, and they both froze as an SUV rounded the corner and headed toward the exit. “Go.”

  She nodded and ran to her car. What have I done? Hundreds, maybe even thousands, of available men in the city, and she made a date with the one specifically forbidden to her. Maybe I should just sleep with him tonight and get him out of my system. No longer off-limits, he’d no longer be mysterious. That might do the trick.