Brent's Law Read Online Free PDF

house winked at her as she passed it to get to her flat. Warmth enveloped her when she closed the door behind her then dumped her handbag and briefcase on the dining room table. After a quick shower, she dressed in sweatpants and trainers, pulled her hair into a ponytail on top of her head and hurried to the kitchen of the main house.
    She refused to give Brent Russell one moment more of her time. He might be the embodiment of what women saw as God’s gift to them, but to her, he spelled trouble. She’d spent a lifetime trying to avoid relationships that could lead to serious involvement, and her instincts shouted that getting involved with Brent would make all those sacrifices worthless.
    Did she need sex so badly? Judging by her body’s response to him, she craved sexual release like a dying man craved water in the desert. He was just the wrong one to satisfy those carnal cravings.
    Samantha pushed open the kitchen door and a myriad of sounds bombarded her. Three students huddled around the kitchen table playing a card game while the radio on the counter blared a techno tune. They greeted her like a long lost friend and Samantha paused in the doorway, sticking her fist in her side.
    “You’re not happy to see me, are you? You’re happy to see the cook.”
    “Aw, of course we’re happy to see you, but food would be welcome.” Their grins split their faces in two.
    “Hmm, so, who is going to make me a cup of coffee so I can get the party started?” She fastened an apron over her tracksuit and retrieved the steaks from the fridge.
    “Which do you prefer tonight with the steak? Chips or baked potato?”
    A chorus voted for the chips and Samantha hung over the edge of the nearly empty chest freezer to retrieve a packet of frozen chips. A wolfish whistle sounded behind her. Smiling, she straightened, turned to scold the student and promptly dropped the bag on the floor.
    Brent sat at the table with his legs extended in front of him, his eyes twinkling with appreciation. Judging by the excited faces of the students, he had already introduced himself to most of them. When a student invited him to join their card game, he nodded without taking his eyes off Samantha.
    “I hope it’s all right. Brent came looking for you and we invited him to stay for dinner. It’s not often we get to meet the man responsible for winning us last Saturday’s game.”
    Speechless, she nodded, picked up the bag of chips from the floor and turned from the group. If her hands were unsteady, it was because she was livid. Not because of how his big frame dwarfed the students at the table. She plonked the makings of a salad on the counter and starting dicing the onion.
    She was going to kill him. The knife slipped and she took a steadying breath. He deserved a slow and painful death for being so obtuse. She turned the knife over in her hands, stopped and grinned at her own ridiculous thoughts.
    Soon the card game turned into an easy banter and, typical of the youth, they had no qualms asking about his life. Samantha tried not to listen, but it was hard to ignore the man when his voice sent awareness coursing through her body, reminding her of the storm he had managed to ignite in her on the train.
    He grew up on a sugarcane farm in Kwa Zulu Natal and although his family was wealthy, he’d had to work hard for what he wanted. His parents had sold a part of their farm to him after he’d left school and allowed him to use the income from the plantations as long as he managed the business himself. Repayment started the moment he obtained his degree. Working and studying had taught him how to multitask and make the best use of his time.
    Samantha smiled when the hidden lecture found it’s mark and the students started questioning him on how they could achieve the same success. Her respect for him grew when he answered their questions honestly and even suggested some avenues of income the three law students could explore while still