When Somebody Loves You Read Online Free PDF Page A

she stopped and faced him. Immediately, she regretted it. The only trace of the outlaw who’d bulldozed Helen was the classically handsome face, the clear blue eyes, and the devastatingly confident grin.
    Gone were the biker boots and low-riding jeans. In their place were custom-made loafers and charcoal flannel trousers. Although the physique-revealing black T-shirt had been replaced by a crisp white shirt and a navy jacket, there was no hiding the measure of the man beneath them. His hair was neatly combed, and its length enhanced rather than detracted from his good looks. Even the earring was less offensive than it was intriguing.
    She loathed herself for noticing that, and the way the bright fluorescent lights cast blue-black highlights in his hair. And she hated that standing next to her, he looked down on her from a good three-inch height advantage, which most men didn’t have when she wore heels that elevated her five feet eight inches even more.
    “If you look at me like that much longer, January,” he drawled, flashing that bad-boy grin of his, “I’m going to have to consider it an invitation.”
    Embarrassed, she tore her gaze from his and resumed her escape toward the elevators. “If you keep hounding me like this, Hayward,” she threatened over her shoulder, “I’m going to have to consider it harassment.”
    Less than a step behind her he answered amiably, “There is a solution, you know.”
    “Yeah. It’s called an injunction.”
    He laughed. The sound was deep and rich and, unaccountably, it wrapped around her senses like a soft, warm glove.
    “There’s always that,” he agreed, “but what I had in mind was dinner.”
    The elevator opened just as she reached it. She couldn’t step inside fast enough. He followed her, along with a crush of people heading for the first floor. When the doors had closed and the dust had settled, January found herself wedged in a back corner. Michael was facing her, his forearm propped on the wall above her head, his body forming an effective barrier from the jostling crowd. A barrier or a trap. She wasn’t yet sure which. One thing she was sure of was that this was going to be the longest elevator ride of her life.
    Oddly, though, she didn’t feel threatened by him. She felt uneasy, yes. Tense, definitely. And she was far too aware of the pleasant way his breath feathered across the top of her head, of the radiant, musky heat his body generated, and of his eyes watching her with gentle amusement.
    “Come on, Counselor, lighten up,” he said with the ease of an accomplished flirt. “You have to eat, so what do you say?”
    Shifting her slipping bundle of legal briefs, she gave him a clipped, decisive “no,” then added a begrudging, “thank you.”
    Undaunted, he relieved her of her heavy briefcase. Before she could utter a protest, he distracted her with his next comment.
    “You know, you were really something in there. But then, that didn’t surprise me, given your win–loss record in court.”
    She wasn’t sure which threw her the most—the fact that he had been in the courtroom, or the fact that he had researched her court record.
    “I got the feeling this case was really special for you,” he added.
    Unwittingly, she reacted to his observation. “They’re all special.” Jeremy Garner and his uncle had become special the moment Ronald Garner had retained January to fight for permanent custody of Jeremy.
    “But you were bucking the system on this one, weren’t you?” he asked.
    She frowned up at him, trying to decide whether he was simply insightful, well-informed, or playing the probing reporter. “Jeremy was temporarily placed with his uncle a little over a year ago by the Department of Human Services. By law, the state’s ultimate goal in a situation like this is to return Jeremy to his natural parents after they’ve participated in a treatment program.”
    “But you agree with the uncle that the state’s solution isn’t in