He narrowed his eyes at her. “Did you ever consider I might not be home?”
“Actually, no.” She waved a hand his direction. “I see you are indeed at home.”
Looking at his light brown hair, a bit too long for the attorney he was, she assumed he was into nonconformity. “Normal” and “compliant” were not words that would be used to describe Mark Reeves.
His lips lifted in a slight smile. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that. I wasn’t going to answer the door.”
“I don’t give up easily.” She took a breath. “Not when something is important. I really need to talk to you.”
Mark stood watching her for a long moment, seeming to contemplate every crevice of her face and body. She had to will herself not to fidget. She felt naked under his intense scrutiny. He was far more attractive than she had expected. Not that she hadn’t seen plenty of good-looking men. There was just something about Mark that really demanded her attention.
After several moments, he said, “Your pictures don’t do you justice.” His tone was suggestive.
“What?” she asked surprised. “Pictures? You know who I am?”
The amusement in his eyes seemed to brighten. “Do you think I could work for your father for five years and not know about his amazing Lindsey Paxton?”
Lindsey’s frown deepened. His tone was a bit sarcastic, and she didn’t like it one bit. “I had no idea. He and I . . .” Lindsey stopped short. She mentally shook herself for even starting to explain her relationship with her father. She stiffened her spine. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, steel in her tone. “I need to speak to you. Can I come inside for a few minutes?
“I’ll save you the trouble of coming in. You can tell your father no.” His tone held icy decisiveness, and his eyes were growing cold.
Not a good start. His feelings towards her father were still raw. She needed to get past the front door if she was going to plead her case. Arrogant, controlling men like this one—lord only knew she had worked with plenty of them—had to be handled with care. This was not the time to tell him why she was here. Inside his home where she had more sure ground was the place to lay it on the line.
As of yet Mark hadn’t moved from the spot where he was comfortably perched. He either wasn’t planning to invite her in or he was going to make her ask. She gave him a direct look that said she was not leaving until she said her piece.
“Mr. Reeves,” she started to speak, her tone sharp enough to match his, pausing for effect, which he took advantage of to interrupt.
His tone softened. “Mark is fine.” He smiled. A sexy, compelling smile that only served to enhance his strange shift of mood. “I hear ‘Mr. Reeves’ enough in the courtroom.”
Her lips pursed. She found this man far too appealing for her own good. Especially since he was the enemy for all practical purposes. Why, then, was she drawn to him? “Fine.” She paused for a split second. “Mark,” she said with sharp enunciation. “My father wouldn’t approve of me being here at all. I’m here for my own reasons.”
Their eyes locked in an unblinking stare. Curiosity flashed in his deep, dark eyes but quickly disappeared and was replaced by an expressionless mask. “Well then, I guess I should invite you in.” There was a taunting edge to his voice. “For some reason I find hearing your reason for visiting an entertaining idea.” His lips settled into a mocking smirk.
She bit her bottom lip to quell the sharp response that begged to slip from her mouth. Mark stepped to the inside of the door, and in an exaggerated, gallant wave, motioned for her to enter. She picked up her briefcase and entered the apartment. Lindsey followed Mark down several steps into a sunken living area. Inspecting the room, she hoped for some insight into Mark’s character.
The entire front of the living room was filled with curtain-free, ceiling-to-floor windows, allowing for a brilliant view of the towering Manhattan skyline. Lindsey walked to the sleek, contemporary, black leather couch facing the view and sat down.
The apartment screamed money and luxury, and a pampered lifestyle. Not that she faulted him for his choices. There was a time when she had chosen the very same things. Walking away from partnership rights in her father’s law firm had been a good decision. No, she didn’t have the money she had before, but she had her self worth.
Something she prized far more than material items.
Mark walked to the glossy black bar to her right. “Would you like a drink?”
“No, no thank you.” She didn’t look at him. Her focus was on the city. “Spectacular view,” she commented, unable to help herself. It was hard not to miss a city that beckoned the senses and stirred the soul.
How had she forgotten the lure of New York?
She could feel his eyes on her. Knew he studied her. “Thanks,” he said. “It helps me think.”
Lindsey turned and watched him pour himself a whiskey. It was her first opportunity to assess him. He carried himself in a commanding fashion, moving with confidence. Rounding the bar, he moved in her direction, drink in hand. His jeans fit his strong, muscular legs like a glove while a white t-shirt hugged his well-defined waist and broad shoulders. A light stubble on his square jaw matched his slightly too long, sandy brown hair, giving him a rebel edge. The woman in her couldn’t help but notice how his defiant air and good looks made for one hell of a sexy man.
Mark sat down in a large, leather chair across from Lindsey, leaning back in a relaxed fashion. He took a slug of his drink, and then pinned her in a stare. “So, why are you here Lindsey?”
She sighed, trying to expel tension so it wouldn’t be evident in her voice. “You’re aware my father has cancer, I assume?”
His voice held no emotion, no sign of remorse. “Yes, I know.”
“You’re the person he was grooming to take over the firm.” It was not a question but rather a statement of fact. They both knew it to be true. He was hired to take over the role she had resigned from.
He tilted his head a bit. “Was. Was the person.” He paused, and then added, “Actually, he settled for me when you left. You were always his first choice.”
She cleared her throat, drawing her spine up stiffly. “I understand what it’s like to bump heads with my father. Your falling-out is understandable.”
“So kind of you to understand.” His voice was laced with sarcasm.
Lindsey inspected his face for a clue to his mood. His aristocratic bone structure gave him an unapproachable air. She intentionally softened her voice. “I know my father can be difficult.” Just talking about her father tended to make her tense, and she hoped it didn’t show.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his glass dangling from one hand. “A falling-out is an understatement, Lindsey. Edward is a very difficult man.”
Her defensive mechanism flared. Why she felt protective of her father, she couldn’t say. “I understand you are as well.”
Mark’s eyebrows lifted. “What exactly does that mean?”
She smirked ever so slightly. “You have a reputation.” In the courtroom he was known as a cobra with a deadly bite if crossed. In his personal life, rumor had it he was an extremely private person who rarely let anyone get close to him.
“From the mouth of your father, no doubt.” His voice was colored with acid-like disdain.
“Oh please. I’ve hardly spoken to my father over the last few years. Your reputation extends far beyond him.” And popular vote was correct; he was without a doubt a worthy opponent she would enjoy taking on in the courtroom. Of course, she would never step into a courtroom again, so that would never happen.
He looked at her a long moment. She had no doubt he knew he had a reputation; in fact, he was probably proud of it. “It must extend quite the distance,” he said. “Don’t you live in Washington?”
“I was in Washington and hope to go back soon.” Thus her visit to him. “I’m on a leave of absence from work due to my father’s illness.”
“FBI, right?” he asked calling up his memory.