Authors: Dianne Venetta
But she didn’t move.
When she bowed her head, every fantasy of happiness Vic had ventured to entertain over the last few weeks, every hope he began to sustain took a nosedive. Disbelief warred with confusion and want as his heart crashed to the ground—hard. They were over.
Vic walked into his apartment only to be met by four walls of deafening silence. Tossing briefcase and keys onto the couch he went straight for the kitchen. He needed a drink. Whipping open the stainless steel door he thought, no—he needed Sam,
damn it
. Grabbing a beer, he popped the top and flung the aluminum cap onto the counter. It ricocheted off the backsplash before landing on the floor. Whatever. He chugged from the can, then stared at the discarded silver ring. He’d get it later.
Vic strode to the living room and thought briefly about sitting, but couldn’t. His nerves were running full sprint. Sam had broken up with him. Dumped him, just like that. He threw back another swallow of beer, the tangy flow biting as it went down his throat. He stared out the window, at the massive trees with orange-red flowers, the Spanish red-tiled rooftops as far as the eye could see, the last rays of sunlight baking tan-colored walls to a golden yellow. Coral Gables was a beautiful city, totally different than Philadelphia but one he was beginning to like.
Turning, he took in the contents of his home. His place. To call this apartment, this blank canvas of walls and floors a home was an insult to the meaning of the word. A home was where you shared your life with family and friends, the place you looked forward to returning after a hard day at work because it held the promise of relaxation, of rejuvenation. But this place was devoid of color, of anything meaningful to him.
Suddenly overwhelmed by the emptiness of his apartment, Vic’s swigged from his beer and thought back to why.
Why was it empty
? Because when he moved to Miami, he hadn’t been looking to stay. He hadn’t hung the first picture or placed the first memento, save for the photo of his parents on his bureau. He hadn’t been interested in adding any personal touches, the primary reason obvious. He planned on returning to Philly when he finished with Scaliano.
Vic moved his gaze to the stack of U-haul boxes and longing jabbed in his side. The secondary reason was far more complicated. He’d been at Sam’s. Making love in her high-rise, enjoying views of the water, her naked body... Hell, his apartment was the
last
place he wanted to be! Add trial prep for Perry and he’d been too preoccupied to bother with the details of unpacking and getting settled in. Much like now. His gut tightened. Packing and moving
out
was the last thing he wanted to do.
Closing his eyes, he saw her, vivid and real, as lifelike as if she were standing beside him. Samantha Rawlings. Sam. Hair a fiery red-brown, eyes bold and intense. Whether she was at the office or in his arms, her body moved like a flame, hot with purpose, fluid with passion. He imagined her naked, arched back in pleasure mode as he feasted on her body before she did the same to him. From the touch of her skin, to the skill of her hand, she could tease him with a smile, or taunt him with a kiss.
His loins reacted in mild spasm. Sam was all woman with an insatiable, murderous ability to please. One he wanted to match move for move, beat for beat. One he wanted to love, day by day, night by night. From the sunshine in her smile to the sharp wit of her tongue, Vic wanted to spend his life with Sam. An ache filled his heart. Opening his eyes, he peered at his open, elegant and empty apartment. There was no other woman for him. Never would be.
They’d all pale by comparison.
Vic thought back to last night and savored the images and sensations pouring through his imagination. Waking up to the rain, his first thought had been sex. A smile pulled at him and he took a sip from his beer. Nothing better than time spent in the warm arms of a woman when it was wet and rainy outside. To him, the constant whip of wind and thunder only enhanced the mood. Need began to throb as he thought of her, the woman who consumed his nights, challenged his days. She was a combination of smart and sexy that was hard to find. He liked her
in
the bedroom and out. Her sense of humor, her energy... Add her ambition and laser-focused drive to be the best and he damn well loved everything about her.
Everything, he rued. Vic expelled a sigh. But now memories were all he had left. Too bad his mind was amazing in its visualization, uncanny in its sense of recall. He could practically feel her...smell her... He could practically taste her.
Loneliness sunk deep into his soul. The thought of being without Sam felt like a vise-grip around his heart. He couldn’t imagine not ever touching her again, kissing her again, murmuring how much he loved her. It felt too good to connect with a woman that way. It made him feel alive, energized. But what he’d miss the most was the way she could melt him with a whisper. Like this morning when they kissed. Strong and confident, Sam could surrender to sweet and feminine in a heartbeat and become vulnerable to his mere touch. It was a feat that made him feel like the most powerful man alive. A feeling he wanted to resume. A love he wanted to keep.
But as he stood alone, reality slowly siphoned his dreams and emptied his heart. Perry was about to begin and once it was over, they’d go after Scaliano. How was he going to stand being near her through it all, yet know there was a wall between them? He dropped his gaze to the polished wood floors.
Where was he going to go when the trials ended
?
That was the bigger question. Once his work was completed here in Miami, Vic realized he didn’t want to return home to Philly because it made no sense. In his heart, he
was
home.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Sam had less than a week to go. Working around the clock, she’d virtually sequestered herself within the confines of her office to probe through case files. Showing up for court without first submitting her facts to a “pat-down” was not going to happen. She was looking for any holes, any weak spots, anything that may jump out at her and today, did so from the vantage point of her red leather chaise.
And it felt good. Good to be back in her space, in her element. Outside the sky floated a few patchy clouds but inside, it was clear and bright. Elegant blue upholstery, polished brass fixtures, shiny wood furniture—this is where she belonged. She needed to set fire to the facts in her court case, not burn up the sheets in the arms of a lover. An image of Vic’s naked body popped into the forefront of her mind’s eye. Even if it was some of the best sheet-time she’d ever had—didn’t matter. It was proving unproductive and that’s where it failed. It was a distraction. Certainly a sexy one, but a distraction none-theless.
Stop
. She shook the thoughts from her brain. This was the very reason she wasn’t working from home. There were too many reminders, too many images. Sam wrestled her mind back to the file in hand. Thumbing through pages, she looked for her notes regarding opening argument. A sudden vision of Vic standing over her giving her a hard time about losing focus because of him interrupted her search. “
Damn it
, where are they?”
Sam kicked her feet off the end of the chair and swung them around to sit upright. She leafed through the entire contents of the folder then slapped it closed on her lap. “What the hell did I do with them?” No sooner had she said it than she spotted them on her desk. Nice and neat, the canary yellow sheets were lined up side by side with her closing arguments. “Of course they’re right where I put them this morning.” Sam shook her head. Same as she did for every case, she set them side by side for comparison.
We’re perfect for each other
.
She shook her head again and stood. No, we’re not. We’re fun together, hot together, but we’re not perfect.” Definitely hot, she thought, recalling the sensation of his mouth on hers as it tugged at her lips, then her swung down her neck, the skim of his tongue more “tease than please” as it made its way down to her breasts, and of course a trip south to her—
She groaned aloud, smacked the file onto the edge of her desk and realized getting over Vic was going to take longer than she imagined. Distance wasn’t doing the job as it usually did, but instead, “out of sight, out of mind” was turning into “absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
And not like her at all. “Damn…” she murmured to no one.
“Boss?” Maria strolled into her office.
She whirled around.
“You okay? I’m hearing voices in here.”
“I’m fine,” she snapped. But work was not working. Her thoughts were mutinous!
Big black eyes blinked in surprise at the terse reply.
Sam flashed a sheepish glance toward her secretary. “Sorry. Pre-case tension, I guess.” Something she never experienced before. She placed forefinger and thumb to her temples and felt the frustration build.
What was wrong with her
? She’d never had trouble drawing the line between business and pleasure.
What changed
?
“Anything else you need before I go?”
“No.” Sam turned, grabbed the stack of opening argument notes from her desk and asked, “Diego around?”
“Just saw him,” Maria replied, gesturing over her shoulder with a thumb. “He’s in his office.”
“Thanks.” Without another word to Maria, Sam blew past her. Time for a pow-wow with her partner—her
trial
partner—she clarified silently. She didn’t need a partner-partner. No time, no desire, no
nada
. She only needed a trial partner and one who’d better keep her brain on track and
away
from Vic.
Located down the hall and around the corner from her own, she walked the distance to Diego’s office at a brisk clip, offering a slight nod to the one associate who crossed her path. Late in the day, too much on her mind, she was in no mood for smiles or small talk. Breezing through his doorway she was met by a smile. “Hey, look who’s here.” He raised a hand in her direction. “It’s the woman of the hour.”
Sam was about to reply when she caught sight of Vic. She hadn’t seen him at first, standing off to the side behind the door. She halted cold.
But she did now
. Dressed in his customary white shirt and khakis, a shirt that spanned the expanse of his broad chest magnificently, pants that clung to his hips and long legs with snug perfection, Sam swallowed hard. Add the brilliant blue tie loosened at his collar revealing the rim of his white undershirt—the T-shirt that fit him to a T—and Sam couldn’t help but visualize the last time she’d seen him pull one off just like it. Up and over his head revealing the flat muscular wall of his stomach, his—
“Hey Sam,” he said softly.
With the breath trapped in her chest, she nodded. Easy and polite, his greeting was nothing out of the ordinary. To the casual observer,
maybe.
But to her the sound of his voice felt like warm silk against her skin. A tingle zipped across her breasts.
Damn
.
Spying the pages in her hand, Diego brightened. “Whatcha got?”
“Nothing,” she said automatically, self-conscious of her sleeveless tank and form-fitting skirt. It made her feel oddly bare at the moment. Exposed. Met by a bewildered look from Diego she cleared her throat and said, “My notes for opening arguments. I wanted to go over them one more time before we go to trial next week.”
“Great. With Vic here, this will be a great time. We’ll polish them up real shiny,” Diego said with a grin, but Vic remained silent.
Unusual for him, she thought, but he was probably giving her space—like she asked. She clenched her teeth. Unfortunately his heated gaze did anything but, pinning her squarely in place instead. So far she’d done well keeping her distance, avoiding this very scenario, but now, face-to-face with him, Sam was torn. While Diego wasn’t privy to their separation, Vic knew full well what had transpired and Sam sensed he remained displeased.
Could she blame him
? Breakup 101 was not her best subject and her performance last week had been less than stellar.
Pressed between expectation and discomfort, she decided to exit. This was no good. No good at all. It would prove distraction not strategy and a complete waste of time but before she could utter the first excuse, Vic intervened.
“Hey, if you guys don’t mind running through this without me, there’s some work on my desk I really need to clear out before we get started with the trial.”
“Hey, no problem bud. Do what you need to do,” Diego said, then lit into a smile. “Just make sure you’re ready when we gut Perry and throw their carcass out to sea, man!”
“Absolutely.” Vic tossed a nod of agreement Diego’s way, but his attention remained on her. And while his jaw was set in a rigid line, his eyes were lined with emotion something akin to hurt, vulnerability—or was it anger, resentment? Sam stepped aside as he passed and as he did, he swiped her with a sharp glance, one that said
this is for you
.
She tried to ignore the cologne trailing his exit, the presence that lingered behind, filling the office with an uncomfortable vacancy. Sam tried to suppress the welling sense of guilt and unease churning within. It wasn’t fair he should have to leave. Not when he had every right to be here and contribute as part of the team. He should be here. This case was now his as much as it was hers.
Sam blew out the breath she’d been holding. They shouldn’t be in this situation and it was all her fault. If this didn’t teach her why office relationships were a bad idea, nothing would. She peered at Diego and felt zero desire to strategize. “Hungry?”
He gaped. “Huh?
She handed him the papers. “Take a look at these, will you? I’m going to run to the lounge for a quick bite.”
Diego took the notes from her with a quizzical expression. “Sure. No problem.”
Sam made an abrupt about face and headed for her office, focusing on the patterned carpet as she walked. This would not do. This would absolutely not do. Longing for Vic at the same time she was pushing him away and trying to work with him? Unbelievable.
How could she let this happen
?