Blackjack and Moonlight: A Contemporary Romance Read Online Free PDF

client.”
    Elise rose. She focused on savoring the client’s pleasure when she relayed her news. Best of all, they were in Cleveland, and surely the gossip about her and Blackjack McIntyre hadn’t made it that far. Yet.
    “Oh, and Elise?” Geoff’s face had gone all “stoic partner.”
    She paused at the doorway. “Mmm-hmm?”
    “The partners’ retreat is in July.”
    “So?”
    “Well, I don’t need to tell you that the firm’s official position on this morning’s events is akin to ‘hear no evil,’ do I?” He looked stern in a way Elise had never seen before.
    The image of the head partners as three willfully ignorant chimps might be amusing, but Elise knew exactly what Geoff meant. Don’t embarrass the firm by telling a sitting judge to take a flying leap. Her stomach filled with lead. “No, you don’t.”
    “Do with Jack McIntyre what you will. Just make sure you’re done with him one way or the other by July. Because you want the partners to talk about what a great partner you’ll make, not how you keep showing up in the gossip columns.”
    Elise nodded.
    She had to get rid of Blackjack McIntyre before he ruined her career.

Chapter Three
     
    Elise could have kissed the feet of whoever invented caller ID—those delightful LCD letters that warned her if it was safe to pick up the phone.
    After the Everton hearing, she failed just once to check who was calling. When Brenda— that man’s secretary—said, “Hold for Judge McIntyre, please,” Elise hung up as though the phone had fangs. The way she figured it, she had no cases before him and never would, so there was no reason for them to speak.
    She sat, rigid, staring at the black plastic desk phone. He called back, of course, but she recognized the number and let Kim answer it. “I’m not in,” she called as the phone rang through to Kim’s desk. After Kim took a message, Elise went out to explain.
    “You’ve heard about court this morning? Yeah, well, I’m not taking calls from Judge McIntyre. Just take a message or let it go to voice mail.”
    The first voice mail, left Tuesday morning, was businesslike. “Ms. Carroll, this is Jack McIntyre. When you get a chance, perhaps we can continue our discussion from yesterday.” His voice had a resonant power, its effect amplified by the intimacy of his speaking just to her. At the end of his message, Elise noticed her fingers clenched around the arm of her chair. They looked alien, as though they were a sign of someone else’s panic.
    The one on Wednesday got a bit more personal. “You may be interested to know that you’re quite well respected among the judges. I’ve been congratulated more than once on my good taste. There were more specific comments, of course. You really should call to hear them.” Elise was pleased to see that she’d evolved—the only sign of her stress was the carcass of a pen that died in her grip. It was one of the firm’s cheap ballpoints, bought in bulk.
    Blackjack’s message on Thursday was even more seductive. “How about a deal? We go to dinner, just once. At the end of the meal, you can tell me to go away and I will. That’s fair, right?” No way was Elise falling for that trick. Not when he could employ all his smoldering Blackjack weaponry on her with only a table between them. Good lord, he’d be close enough to touch. Close enough to smell. She shuddered at the thought.
    On Friday, Blackjack threw down the gauntlet. “I admire your consistency. You’re an excellent lawyer. Spend some time with me and use those legal skills to prove there’s nothing between us.” She could tell he’d been laughing at her when he left that one. Laughter added a taste of liqueur to his rich chocolate voice and made her head spin. Best not to drive after listening to his messages.
    Last thing on Friday, Bart Mather called to say his client was willing to settle for $13,500, which thrilled her client and almost neutralized the nightmare quality of Monday’s