Blind Devotion Page 9

  Tanya Glinn was my newest pro bono case. A working mother of two who finally got up the courage to leave her abusive husband. Although, he wasn’t making it easy on her, showing up at her job and harassing her, and threatening if she didn’t drop the PFA, he was going to make her regret it. I’d told her he violated the PFA by coming near her and she should’ve called the police, but she said he was gone by the time she thought of calling the authorities.

  “Anyway, he told me if I don’t get rid of you, he will. So I wanted to warn you.” A hiccup came through the line, and it wasn’t long before she was full on sobbing.

  “It’s all right.” I tried to assure her everything would be okay, but I barely believed it myself. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t concerned, but not enough to alert anyone. Not yet.

  “I don’t know what I’ll do if you drop me as your client.”

  “I’m not going to drop you, Tanya. He’s only saying those things to rattle you, to try and bring you back under his control. Don’t let him win.” I took a steady breath. “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.” I hoped my voice wasn’t as shaky as I thought it sounded.

  “Please just be careful, Miss Winthrop.”

  “How many times have I told you to call me Alina? No need to be so formal.”

  “Okay,” she whispered, some of the anxiety melting away during the duration of our call. After finally hanging up, I pushed my chair away from my desk and stood to stretch. It was past lunchtime, and I was starving, so I grabbed my purse and walked toward my door, fully intent on devouring a huge turkey hoagie from one of my favorite delis a couple blocks away. But I never got that far. Chris showed up in my doorway before I could exit my office.

  “Are you heading out?” he asked, eyeing my purse slung over my shoulder.

  “I was going to grab some lunch.”

  “Do you want some company?” I did; it just wasn’t Chris. As soon as the thought entered my brain, I internally cringed. It wasn’t fair to keep dismissing Chris like I had been. He’d acted like the perfect gentlemen, minus his one lapse in judgment.

  “Sure. I was going to hit up Mario’s.”

  “I love their hoagies.”

  I smiled. “Me too.”

  Once we stepped outside, we fell into a quiet rhythm, walking side by side and talking about what case he was currently handling. It was a wrongful termination suit, some CEO who’d gotten fired for dropping stock prices. Chris was confident he’d win the case and obtain a huge settlement for his client, especially after his client had produced evidence that one of the board members was involved in something illicit. It almost sounded like a case of blackmail gone bad.

  I tried to pay attention, but my guilt for kissing Max kept surfacing. Chris was a good man, and while I didn’t believe he loved me, I knew he cared for me. And I’d betrayed whatever trust he had in me for a few moments of lust.

  “Alina?”

  Pulling my attention back from a myriad of emotions, I started at the sound of my name. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?” We’d finally taken our place in line, ordered our hoagies and were patiently waiting to be served.

  “I asked if you wanted to just take these back to the office and eat in peace.” Looking around, I saw the place was packed, only a tiny table available in the far corner near the restroom. The decision to leave was a no-brainer.

  “How about the park?” I countered, wanting to enjoy some fresh air in hopes it would clear my mind some.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  We found an empty bench in Central Park, the hustle and bustle of the city blooming into something more serene inside the park’s limits. The sun was shining and the breeze cascading through the trees made for a wonderful afternoon. Devouring our hoagies, Chris and I didn’t talk too much, both of us apparently starving. Once we’d finished and chucked our garbage into a nearby waste bin, Chris took the opportunity to take my left hand in his. I didn’t resist.

  “I have something I want to give you.” He gave my hand a light squeeze. My curiosity piqued, I turned fully toward him and saw a nervous smile drift over his face. Before I could say anything, he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a small, black velvet box.

  I snatched my hand back, not ready for what he was trying to give me, although my reaction was asinine since we were already engaged.

  “Chris, I . . . I don’t. . . .”

  He ignored my blabbering, opened the box and reached for my hand again. “I know we’re already technically engaged, but I wanted to at least do something traditional for you.” He plucked the gorgeous two-carat, princess-cut diamond ring from its holder and gently placed it on my ring finger, only releasing my hand once it was securely in place.

  Surprisingly, the ring fit perfectly. Too bad the symbol distressed me more than I thought it would. “I don’t know what to say.” Reservation stole any happiness I should’ve had at such a gesture.

  “You don’t like it.” A quick frown pulled down the corners of his lips.

  “No, it’s not that,” I countered. “The ring is beautiful. It’s just . . . the ring makes it . . .”

  “Real?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I know. I felt the same way when I purchased it.” He gave me a small smile, his eyes boring into mine in an effort to ease my nervousness. It sort of worked.

  Looking down at my hand and the way the sun glinted off the diamond, I couldn’t help but feel that maybe I wasn’t giving Chris enough of a chance.

  Alina

  IN DESPERATE NEED of caffeine, I waltzed my tired self down the corridor until I came to the breakroom. Each floor had their own, ours similar to those everywhere else, except for the ones on the higher levels. Those breakrooms had fancy cappuccino machines, as well as full-size ovens, a testimony that almost everyone who worked at the firm spent way too much time away from home.

  When I entered, the room was empty. Usually I’d run into a few of the other lawyers and end up chitchatting for a few minutes before everyone returned to their respective workspaces. I’d always enjoyed the break, but that day I was content with being alone, although alone meant my wayward thoughts battled inside my brain with no chance of distraction.

  Swirling the spoon around my “SHHH . . . THERE’S WINE IN HERE” mug, I took a quick sip to make sure the hot beverage met my approval. I licked my lips and sighed. There really was nothing like a great cup of coffee, especially when I was staring down the barrel of a very late evening.

  Holding tightly to the mug’s handle, I turned around and was startled when I saw a certain someone standing a few feet away from me, the look on his familiar face completely disarming me. I’d done a great job at pushing all thoughts of Max from my mind. Okay, not a great job, but a decent job. Scratch that . . . I’d done a shit job of trying to forget all about him and the amazing kiss we’d shared.

  “Shit!” I shouted, looking down at my left hand where some of the coffee had spilled. Quickly spinning around, I slammed the mug on the counter, more of the contents spilling out, before flipping up the faucet lever, the cold water doing its job at squelching the burning sensation.

  “I’m so sorry,” Max apologized, rushing up beside me. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?” He reached for my left hand and pulled it from underneath the spray of the water, inspecting my skin for any damage. The flesh was tinged a light shade of pink, but nothing too bad, mostly an overreaction on my part. Although when the coffee splashed on me, it hurt like hell.

  I wasn’t paying attention to my hand, instead focusing on Max’s face, how his expression morphed from concern to anger in the blink of an eye. Confused, I glanced down to where he was still holding my hand and realized why he looked so pissed off. His thumb and forefinger gripped my engagement ring, yanking my hand up until it was in front of my face.

  “What’s this?” he snarled. His eyes captivated me but not in the butterflies-in-my-belly kind of way. It was more of the my-heart-dropped-into-my-stomach kind of way.
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  “Chris gave it to me today at lunch.” I wanted to elaborate, or make up some kind of excuse as to why I’d agreed to wear it, but nothing else came out of my mouth, my brain trying to catch up to the scene unfolding in front of me.

  “And you agreed to wear it?” He scoffed, flashing me such a condescending look I immediately became defensive.

  Snatching my hand back, I stood toe to toe with him, refusing to back down. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of letting him know how intimidated I felt.

  “He is my fiancé.” The words still felt foreign on my lips, but it was the truth, no matter how I felt about it.

  Max closed in on me, so close I had to back up a step in order to breathe. “Did you tell him about the other night? How you wanted me to fuck you against the stairs? How wet you were when we kissed?” How does he know that? The warmth of his breath brushed against my cheek, his lips so close to my ear when he growled, “Does he know you fantasize about me and not him?”

  Before I could respond to his ludicrous, albeit spot-on assumptions, my father walked in, Max backing up as soon as he heard someone else enter.

  “There you are,” my father called, walking toward us with suspicion burning behind his eyes. His stare bounced from me to Max, then back again. “What’s going on here?” The authoritative tone left no room for lies, although I tried anyway.

  “Max startled me, and I spilled coffee on my hand. He was just making sure I was all right.” I quickly raised my left hand in the air, lowering it to my side before my father noticed the ring. I didn’t need him gloating over Chris’s gesture, solidifying our engagement even more so in my father’s eyes.

  Not taking my word for it, my father turned his full attention to Max. “Is that true? Because from the looks of it, you two looked a bit too cozy.” My mouth fell open. “You do know she’s engaged, don’t you, Mr. Colter.”

  “Dad,” I half warned, half cried. “We weren’t doing anything inappropriate.” My face flushed.

  “I asked Mr. Colter a question.” My father’s eyes were still pinned on Max.

  “She burned her hand because I scared her, like she said. I was only making sure she was okay.” Max’s words were clipped, his tone curt with his response. “And yes, I know she’s engaged. She even has the rock to prove it.” So much for keeping that a secret. Disdain dripped from Max’s lips, and when he looked at me, hurt hid behind his stoic exterior. He swiftly excused himself and left us alone.

  Once it was just my father and me, he laid into me as if I were still a teenager who had broken curfew.

  “Whatever you’re thinking about doing . . . don’t,” he warned. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two—”

  “We weren’t doing anything,” I interrupted, hoping he’d believe my lie. “I really did burn my hand from the coffee.” At least that part is true.

  “He didn’t have to stand so close, Alina. I’m not stupid. Stay away from him.” He raked a hand through his hair, smoothing the wayward strands right back into place afterward. “You’re engaged to Chris.” He glanced down at my hand. “Act like it.”

  Max

  PISSED OFF DIDN’T even come close to describing my emotions. I slammed my hand against the top of my desk. I didn’t know what I was more upset about—Alina wearing a goddamn engagement ring, especially since I knew she didn’t really want to marry Harris, or her father walking in on us. Randall Winthrop wasn’t to be messed with. I at least knew that much about him, which should have given me more understanding as to why Alina was going along with this absurd pretense of an engagement. Although, now that there was a ring, was she seriously going to go through with it? I knew she felt something for me, as I did for her. Would she throw that away just to please her father?

  I knew I sounded like a crazy man, obsessing over one kiss, one fleeting moment, but I knew in my soul it was so much more than that. Our connection was real and no amount of internal shaming about chasing a woman who was involved with someone else was going to erase it.

  My only option was to lose myself in work, if not, I feared I’d waltz into her office and create a scene, one that wouldn’t turn out so well for me, or for her. I didn’t want to scare her with the intensity of what I’d been feeling, anger mixed with possession. So to be safe, I picked up the first file on the ever-growing pile and dove right in.

  When my eyes finally crossed and my stomach rumbled, I called it a night. The clock on my computer read eight thirty and my thoughts drifted to a local deli close by that was still open. I’d grab a quick bite and head home, indulging in a stiff drink before ending this infuriating day.

  Replying to a quick text from my brother, I walked toward the exit, my mind on Alina and no one else. Could I convince her to give me a shot? What was I going to do if she ended up marrying Harris? The same questions popped up over and over in my head, so much so I was distracted as I walked outside.

  I took two steps to my right, and that’s when I spotted her, pressed against the wall of the building with some guy looming over her.

  Alina

  “YOU WILL NOT give my wife any more of your bullshit advice!” he raged, speaking so close to my ear I was positive no one else heard him. The way he had me pinned to the wall looked as if we were two lovers entangled in an embrace. Minus his hand wrapped around my throat, of course. “You stay the fuck away from Tanya, or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

  After the tense interaction with Max in the break room earlier, then with my father, I knew I needed to avoid both of them at all costs for the remainder of the day, so I’d locked myself in my office, barely venturing out except to visit the restroom. When I’d eventually deemed it to be safe, most of the other people in the office having gone home for the evening, I’d called it quits.

  On entering the cool night air, I’d inhaled the smell of the city. The scent of exhaust and freshly baked bread from a nearby deli had assaulted me, deterring me from immediately heading home. It was then it dawned on me I hadn’t had any sort of dinner. My stomach threatened to revolt if I didn’t remedy the situation. Deciding to snag a quick bite before hailing a cab home, I’d started walking the two blocks to Mario’s.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t make it far. A man snatched my arm before I even realized he was next to me and threw me against the brick wall of the building I’d exited.

  Everything happened so fast I barely had time to register what was going on, but as soon as the stranger’s fingers circled my throat, I knew I was in trouble. I had no idea who he was, but as soon as he started talking, I figured it out rather quickly, moments before he mentioned his wife’s name.

  If I saw Rick Glinn walking down the street, I would’ve never thought he was a monster. He looked like every other average guy, just shy of six foot, short dark blonde hair with a clean-shaven face. Hell, he was even a bit attractive, his innocent façade surely being what he’d used to entrap Tanya.

  As he caged me against him, something became apparent. Rick wasn’t drunk. There was no alcohol on his breath. Nor was he high on any kind of drug, his pupils appearing normal, which only made him that much more dangerous. He was a predator. The need to dominate, control, and abuse ingrained deep within him. The most dangerous type of man.

  He squeezed my throat tighter, my fingers continuing to claw at his, desperate to inhale even the smallest amount of oxygen. When my vision started to tunnel, I heard my name being called. It was faint, but I was sure I hadn’t imagined it. Then within seconds, he released me and took off around the corner, disappearing into the shadows of the city streets.

  My shoulders trembled while my one hand rested over my pounding heart and the other covered my mouth to try and quiet the sobs starting to erupt.

  Baffled as to how he knew I was Tanya’s lawyer, I quickly remembered our names, accompanied by our pictures, were listed on the firm’s website.

  “Alina,” Max shouted, rushing toward me. Once he reached my side, he gently touched my arm, but the gesture mad
e me flinch, throwing my hands up in front of me as if to defend myself. My brain knew it was Max, but my body was still in fight mode, not that I had done much of that. “What happened?” He looked pissed, but I knew it wasn’t directed at me.

  “He . . . he just attacked me,” I sputtered, the fingers of my right hand lightly touching my throat. I flinched again.

  “Who attacked you?” His eyes flew to everyone walking by, searching for someone, yet he had no idea who.

  “Her husband.” I leaned against the building, my fingers still covering the skin of my throat. Max moved in front of me so I could focus on him and not what just happened, although I suspected he needed me to tell him just the same.

  “Whose husband?” Before I could answer, his expression changed, and it was then I knew he remembered me talking about my pro bono case, the one with the abusive ex. He’d warned me, even Tanya warned me, but I hadn’t heeded either of their warnings. “Your client’s husband, the abusive bastard? The one you were telling me about?”

  I nodded. “Tanya Glinn.”

  “Do you know his name?”

  “Rick.”

  “Okay, come on,” he ushered. He threw his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close, the warmth from his body offering a small amount of comfort. “We’re going to the police station to file a report.” I think he half expected me to resist, but all I could manage to do was nod.

  Alina

  TURNING ON MY side, I nestled into my body pillow, throwing my leg over the bottom of it and pulling it closer, settling back in and preparing to drift off to sleep again, but a foreign noise stopped me.

  A soft snore.

  Prying my eyes open, one by one, I picked my head up and peered over at the other side of my king-sized bed, holding my breath the entire time.

  Max was stretched out on the other side of the mattress, lying on top of the covers, his right arm thrown over his face while his other one rested on his stomach. He was still dressed in his suit, sans tie and jacket. When my eyes traveled further down, I saw he was barefoot, the sight strangely sexy.