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  I fiddled with the strap of my bag as I waited for the elevator, wondering if I should bring up what I’d seen the night before out on his terrace. Noah was so temperamental, I couldn’t tell if me confronting him would force him to explain, or just cause him to push me away. My instinct was that he would push me away. Obviously if he’d wanted to tell me what was going on, he wouldn’t have gone so far out of his way to hide it.

  My phone rang as I was about to step onto the elevator.

  Professor Worthington.

  “Charlotte,” he barked into the phone. “Where are you?”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. Since I had no idea why Noah wanted to meet with me, I didn’t know if it had to do with the case or if it was something of a more personal nature.

  “I’m about to meet with Mr. Cutler,” I said finally, taking a chance.

  “Good, so he’s been in touch.”

  “Yes.”

  “I emailed him this morning to let him know we’re going to begin preparing his defense, and he indicated he would only be speaking with you.”

  “Oh.” I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry.

  “I’m going to need you to get as much information out of him as you can.”

  “Okay,” I said, almost laughing out loud at the absurdity of being tasked with trying to get information out of Noah Cutler.

  “Thank you.” Professor Worthington paused. “Is this arrangement okay with you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean are you okay meeting with Mr. Cutler alone?” His voice was tinged with concern. It was the first time I’d heard Professor Worthington show any kind of nervousness about me being involved with Noah. Up until this point, he’d been very clear that I was to do whatever it took to make sure we had what we needed for the case. It made me wonder if perhaps Professor Worthington knew something that made him worried for my safety.

  I wondered if I should tell him about what happened last night, about the mysterious woman who’d shown up at Noah’s house, how they’d been talking out on the terrace. But to do that would make it clear I’d spent the night with Noah. And I was suddenly getting the vibe that something had changed with Professor Worthington – now that Noah had been arrested, Professor Worthington seemed a little more cautious. If he knew how close I really was with Noah, he might take me off the case.

  “I’m fine,” I said, stepping into the elevator and hoping I sounded confident.

  “Do you want me to send Josh?”

  I laughed. “Are you serious?”

  He laughed as well. “No, you’re right. What was I thinking? Do you want me to come down there?”

  “No. I’m okay. I can deal with Mr. Cutler.” The words sounded so strong and forceful coming out of my mouth, that I almost believed them myself.

  “Well, then,” Professor Worthington said, back to being all business. “I’ll expect an emailed report from you as soon as you’re finished. Then we can talk about next steps.”

  “Thank you, Professor.” I hung up the phone and stepped out into the carpeted hallway of Cutler and Associates. I thought about the last time I was here, before any of this had even really started. I almost laughed at how much things could change in such a short time.

  I walked down the hall and was stopped at the reception desk. There was a new receptionist there, young and blonde with shiny hair and an enthusiastic smile.

  “Can I help you?” she asked me.

  “I’m here to see Noah,” I said. “He’s expecting me.”

  “Your name?”

  “Charlotte.”

  “Last name?”

  “Holloway,” I said, trying not to be offended by the fact that I was being questioned while trying to get access to the man I’d been sleeping with.

  She turned toward the computer screen, her perfectly manicured nails tapping over the keys. I suddenly felt self-conscious of my own nails, which I was always biting. I swallowed.

  “Ah, yes,” the receptionist said. “I see here you’re part of his legal team. You can take a seat over there.”

  “Thank you,” I said tightly, sitting down in one of the chairs across from the reception desk, all the while trying not to scream. Why the hell was I being made to wait out here like I was some kind of imposition? Noah had requested this meeting with me, not the other way around. Actually, he hadn’t even requested it -- he’d just demanded it, not even asking me if I was free. He’d been nothing but cold to me last night, and now he was making me wait, while meanwhile some mysterious woman with a binder full of God knows what and a green scarf was able to just come waltzing into his apartment in the middle of the night, no questions asked.

  It was infuriating.

  I sat there getting more and more worked up, telling myself that if he didn’t come out in five minutes, I was leaving.

  I watched the clock on my phone, trying to block out the sound of his new receptionist’s chirpy little blond voice as she answered his calls.

  One minute… two minutes…

  At four and a half minutes, I began a countdown in my head, and there was ten seconds left when Noah finally buzzed reception.

  “Yes, sir,” the receptionist said. “Yes, right away, sir.”

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, knowing Noah probably loved that she was calling him sir. “You can go in now,” she said, giving me a smile.

  “Thank you.”

  I made my way through the double doors and back to Noah’s office.

  When I got there, he was standing by his desk, talking to someone on the phone. His suit coat and tie were off, the sleeves of his navy blue dress shirt rolled up, his collar loose around his neck, showing a glimpse of the crisp white t-shirt he was wearing underneath.

  He motioned me in with one hand, and I walked into his office.

  He ended his call and I immediately said, “You shouldn’t have asked me to come for seven if you weren’t ready.”

  I was expecting him to be cold with me, but instead, the side of his mouth twitched into a grin. “I missed you, too.”

  I ignored him and walked over to the chairs in front of his desk, sat down in one and pulled out a legal pad. “Professor Worthington has asked me to conduct a preliminary interview with you so that we can start mounting your defense.”

  “Mounting, huh?” he said. “I like the sound of that.”

  “Noah, please. This is serious.”

  “I am serious.”

  He walked around his desk until was standing behind me, then pushed my chair so that it was facing away from the desk and toward the side wall. Then he moved the other chair so that it was facing mine.

  He sat down and put his hands on my legs. “I missed you, Charlotte,” he said, his voice husky.

  I swallowed. “This is about your case, Noah,” I said. “It’s not about me and you.”

  “I called the meeting.”

  “Yes, well, I’m deciding what it’s about.”

  He seemed amused again as I looked down at my legal pad and made a big show of writing the date and time on the top of the page. But my eyes fell on his hands, still holding onto my knees, his grip strong. His thumbs were making slow circles on my skin, and he inched my skirt up just the tiniest fraction, causing my breath to catch. His forearms were muscular and strong, his watch black and expensive, completing the look of a man who was in control and could have whatever he wanted.

  “First things first,” I said, trying to force myself to concentrate. “Do you have an alibi for Katie’s murder?”

  “No.” He shrugged. “You know that, Charlotte. I was running in the park.”

  I made a note of it. “Did you make any stops that morning? Was there anywhere you might have gone where someone could place you? A coffee shop, perhaps?”

  “No.”

  “Did you interact with anyone during your run?”

  “No.” His hands moved up my skirt to my waist, and he grabbed me and pulled me toward him, so that my ass was closer to the edge of th
e chair. His hands lingered, moving back down over the curve of my butt before returning to my legs.

  “You’re not helping,” I said.

  “You’re not either,” he said, his hand sliding slowly down my right leg, past my thigh, my calf, until he got to my ankle. He picked up my foot and placed it in his lap before beginning to unbuckle the strap on my high heel.

  “Noah!” I said, trying to pull away from him. But he held me tight.

  “Shh,” he said. “It will help me concentrate.”

  “How will you taking off my shoe help you concentrate?”

  “Because I can’t concentrate when you show up here looking like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Sexy.” He unbuckled my shoe and slid it off my foot, then grabbed my other leg and started doing the same to my other foot.

  “Noah,” I said, trying to pull from his grasp again. “This is serious.”

  “I told you, I am being serious.” He dropped my other shoe onto the floor and began massaging my foot.

  “Fine,” I said, feeling the tension start to release from my body as he hands kneaded my skin. “If I leave my shoes off, will you answer my questions?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, counselor.” He grinned at me again, like he thought the whole thing was a joke.

  I sighed and turned back to my legal pad. “So you’re sure no one saw you that morning?”

  “I was on the trail. Everyone jogging that morning would have seen me.”

  “But no one that would necessarily remember you.”

  “There was someone, actually, now that I think about it. A blond woman was running at around my pace, and we were passing each other back and forth. I think she made a comment to me about how she was trying to keep up with me.”

  I’ll bet she did.

  “Do you remember anything about her? What she was wearing? What she looked like? If she jogs that trail a lot, maybe we can find her, see if she remembers you.”

  “She was wearing a purple sports bra. Black spandex shorts. Mid-twenties.”

  I made a note on my pad and tried not to react to the fact that the woman sounded gorgeous, fit and blond – your basic nightmare.

  “Did Katie ever mention anything about anyone she was having problems with? A boyfriend, maybe?”

  “Katie didn’t have a boyfriend.” His hands moved up over my calves, his fingertips brushing my skin lightly. When he got to the bottom of my skirt, he pushed it up a little more.

  “Noah,” I said, pushing it back down. “I need to ask you these questions. It’s for Professor Worthington. If I don’t get at least a little bit of information from you, I’m going to get in trouble. You don’t want me to get in trouble, do you?”

  “Depends.” He slid my legs back down to the floor and grabbed my hips, pulling me even closer. He lowered his head, his lips tracing a searing line of soft kisses over my neck. “How much trouble? It might be worth it.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from moaning as his mouth moved up my jaw line, his stubble brushing against my cheeks. His lips made their way to mine and he kissed me slow and deep, his hands finding my hair and tangling with the strands. He kissed me and kissed me and kissed me some more, until I was breathless.

  “Noah,” I breathed, pulling back from him. “Please…”

  “Please what?” he asked. His hands moved from my hips up over the small of my back, his nails digging into my skin through the fabric of my shirt as he moved higher. When he got to my shoulders, he pulled back and looked into my eyes, brushing a piece of hair off my face.

  “Please… I need to do my job,” I said. But my voice was weak. I wanted to ask him more about his case, wanted to ask him who that woman was at his apartment last night, what was in the file she gave him, why she would give him a green scarf… but I was helpless to resist his touch. He had a power over me that made me lose myself in him.

  “Your job is keeping me satisfied,” he growled.

  I glanced down at my legal pad, not sure if he was taking about as a client or something more.

  “Look at me,” he commanded, and I moved my gaze back to his, watching as the look in his eyes began to turn from soft and romantic to passionate and demanding. His hands found the top button of my shirt, and he began unbuttoning my blouse slowly, our eyes staying on each other until it was completely undone.

  He reached up and slowly slid the fabric down over my shoulder, his fingertips brushing against my skin so gently that goose bumps broke out all over my body.

  Then he was kissing me again, pulling me up from the chair and into his arms, pressing me against the back of his desk as his mouth moved against mine.

  “Charlotte,” he moaned. “I missed you.”

  I wanted to say that if he missed me, he shouldn’t have been so cold to me last night, but I didn’t want to risk him shutting down again, didn’t want to risk him taking this exquisite pleasure away from me.

  So instead I surrendered myself to his kisses, to the feel of his hands sliding into my open shirt and over the cups of my bra, his hands strong and warm against my breasts. He cupped my ass again and pulled my body so it was flush against his, my legs wrapped around his waist.

  My skirt was hiked up, and I could feel him, hard through his pants. He pulled me close, cradling me against him as he kissed me, his hands on either side of my face, until finally, he laid me back on his desk and pressed his body on top of mine.

  He slid his tongue down over my neck, then kept going over my cleavage, over my stomach, until my whole body felt like it was on fire. He inched my skirt up, then grinned up at me devilishly as he removed my panties and spread my legs.

  “Mmm,” he said, sliding a finger up inside of me. He lowered his head, kissing the inside of my thighs before spreading me open with his fingers. I could feel his breath on my spread open pussy, and he blew on it softly, causing me to whimper.

  “Noah,” I said. “Please….”

  “Please what, Charlotte?”

  “Please, I want to feel your mouth on me.”

  He reached up with one hand and grabbed my chin, squeezed it between his hands and slid a finger inside my mouth. I sucked on it hungrily.

  “Say it again.”

  “I want to feel your mouth on me.”

  “Where do you want my mouth?”

  “On my pussy.” The words sounded dirty. I’d never talked like this with anyone before Noah, and just the fact that I was doing it send a thrill up my spine. I wanted him so badly. I was wet, my knees trembling, my legs spread open for him.

  He stood up, taking himself away from me, and I moaned in disbelief that he was going to do this again, that he was going to tease me, make me beg for him.

  He stood over me as I lay there on the desk, looking at me.

  Then he leaned down and kissed me hard and deep, biting my bottom lip softly as he pulled away again.

  He reached under me and unhooked my bra, letting the cups loosen around my breasts before pulling my open shirt off my arms. Then he pulled my bra off and dropped it onto the floor.

  My nipples were hard, standing straight up in two pebbled peeks, and Noah reached out and took my breasts in his hands, cupping them gently, his thumbs grazing my nipples, his pelvis pushed up against my bare pussy.

  The hardness in his pants pushed against me, and I tried to grind into it.

  “No,” he growled, grabbing my hips and holding me still. “Don’t. Or I’ll stop.”

  I summoned all my willpower as he held me firmly in his grasp, knowing I had to stay still and quiet. It was torture, but the torture of not having him at all would be much worse.

  He leaned down and kissed me again, our mouths moving in an exquisite rhythm. I dug my nails into his back, pulling him against me, wanting to pull him as close as he could get. But he pulled back and stared into my eyes as he took my arms and raised them over my head.

  Then he s
tood up and began unloosening his tie.

  “Do you trust me, Charlotte?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said, knowing how much it turned him on to hear me say that. “Yes, I trust you.”

  He pulled his tie through the collar of his shirt in one rapid movement, then leaned down and began wrapping it over my eyes, blindfolding me. My heart began pounding at the thought of not being able to see what he was doing – even if, deep down, I didn’t believe he killed those women, there was no way I could know for sure. And even if he hadn’t, he had a tragic past and dark secrets that tangled together to create a kind of danger I wasn’t sure I could handle. But I still wanted him. And I trusted him. I did.

  I felt his index finger slid over my bottom lip, over the swell of my breast and the curve of my hips. He unbuttoned my skirt and pulled it off, so that I was completely naked and lying on his desk, my arms above my head, blindfolded and unable to see what he was doing.

  I resisted the urge to pull my hands down and take off the blindfold. It was a test, I was sure of it – he always wanted me to look at him, always wanted us to be focused on each other. He was testing me to see if I trusted him, and I so desperately wanted to please him.

  So I forced myself to stay still, the want and desire in my body blooming into an ache that permeating my whole body. It was almost unbearable, how badly I wanted him.

  His fingers slid down over my stomach, then pushed my legs apart. I felt him kneeling down again, felt his breath right on my center, and I bit my lip and tried not to make a sound.

  Then, just like that, he was gone.

  My heart stopped, my stomach somersaulting.

  I heard the sound of a drawer opening, and then the sound of metal on metal. Noah grabbed my hands and I felt him pulling them further up over my head, pushing them further apart before placing them back on the desk. The cool bite of metal hit the back of my wrists, right before a clicking sound echoed throughout the room.

  I realized I was locked in. He’d attached something to the desk, some kind of contraption, and now my wrists were trapped in it. I couldn’t remove the blindfold now even if I wanted to.

  His hands came down onto my breasts, kneading them and driving me crazy. Then his mouth was next to my ear.