Chapter Two

Wilson

Very little surprises me anymore. In the twelve years I have been practicing law, I have met all kinds of people, from murderous criminals who will swear they have never hurt a fly their entire life to innocent people accused of heinous crimes just because they were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Some of my clients are animals, but there is little they can do that would get a reaction from me. Whether or not I agree with their actions is a whole different matter. My only job is to defend them, and with time, I have found myself numbed by everything. I have seen the worst and best of humankind, and there is truly little anyone could do to surprise me. On the occasion that something does, I learned from a young age to always school my features and hide my feelings.

" Emotions are for losers ," was my father's first life lesson. " Never let them read your mind, or they'll use it against you. "

Those were my father's words when he first brought me to the law firm my grandfather had founded. I was five at the time, but I remember those words like it was yesterday. More than thirty years later, I still live by those very words, and yet, I can't seem to remember his teachings around this five-foot-nothing girl staring down at me with her beautiful, teary brown eyes.

They're hypnotizing. Making it hard for me to think beyond the girl—beyond this moment.

When Martha emailed me her profile, I didn't bother to look at it. Why would I focus on that when, like everyone else before her, she too would be gone in a week? If she could even last that long. I was convinced of this even without wasting my time checking out her resume.

Looking at her now, I question if I should have checked her file after all. I wonder if I would have approved her hiring if I'd seen those gold-specks in her eyes on my screen. She's here now, so I can't exactly do anything about that.

I trail my eyes over her knee-length, form-fitting skirt and up to the blouse covering her supple chest. Her dark brown hair is tied back tightly into a bun and she is dressed like every other female employee in this firm, but something about her sets me on the edge.

Maybe it's the way she looks at me from under her long lashes, eyes fluttering nervously as she does so. Or the way she stands with her bag and file hugged so close to her chest, pushing up her tits so that I can almost see her cleavage.

Perhaps it's because she's oblivious to all of this and the effect it has on me.

I clear my throat and discreetly adjust myself in my pants, annoyed by the sudden erection pushing at the fly. Her blatant innocence and the effect it has on me pisses me off. She could prove to be a distraction, and I don't need one of those around me.

"Sit," I say again, and the girl blinks at me as if she'd been expecting me to kick her out after her wardrobe malfunction. I may be a difficult man to get along with, but I am not a complete monster.

She sits down, and I turn to my computer to pull up the email about her. Sandy Beck, twenty-three years old. "You got your certification just a year and a half ago," I mention, as I scroll through her profile.

"Yes, sir."

"You don't have much experience in this field," I observe, my voice not particularly hard, but I notice her wince slightly. Oh, she's not going to last even the typical week it takes most before they finally call it quits. Even so, I decide to give her a chance. "Why Valor Springs?"

She blinks up at me in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"I asked why Valor Springs?"

"Well…"

"I prefer honesty."

She nods once. "I needed the job. Most law firms prefer to hire people with a little more experience in the field."

"I see." And I do. I don't care about the age or gender of the people who work for me as long as they do their job and they do it to perfection, and I tell her as much.

"I assure you, sir, that despite my short time working in the field, I am perfect for this job."

"We'll see about that." I force my eyes away from the overeager and obviously nervous girl and back to my computer. "I'll have you start by familiarizing yourself with our case files. I'm assigning you to organize and update them. I want you to ensure everything is in order for my upcoming court appearances."

"I've got the job?" she says excitedly, leaning forward and placing her hands on my desk, but she quickly realizes her mistake because she pushes back in horror before muttering an apology.

"I assume you have already signed a contract with Martha."

"Yes, sir."

"Then you will start immediately."

Her face lights up with a smile as she prepares to get up, and I am struck mute by how much her face transforms when she smiles. Her brown eyes sparkle, and the golden specks glimmer in the soft light, sucking all the air from my lungs.

This girl—with her heart in her eyes—is supposed to shadow me to client meetings and court proceedings? Jesus Christ, they are going to eat her alive. That is if she doesn't break down and cry when she meets the men I represent in court.

I rub a finger on the bridge of my nose as I wait for Sandy to leave, but she doesn't. Instead, she slowly lowers herself back into the chair. Her cheeks are flushed red when I look up to lock my gaze with hers, but she quickly looks away.

"Do you need anything else, Miss Beck?"

She wiggles nervously in her seat, biting her lip in a move that I imagine is meant to curb her nerves but comes off so darn sensual, it has my cock throbbing behind my fly. "I…I'm sorry, I don't think I can get up. Well…"

Oh right . Her ripped skirt.

Without another word, I get up from my chair and walk to the coat rack. I grab the long one I wore to work this morning and bring it to her. "Use this."

Sandy stares at me in surprise before her expression morphs to that of gratitude, and once again, I am taken aback by how easy it is to read her expression. Even more surprising is the immense pleasure I get when she gets up and slips into my coat, her smile back on her face. I have to look away. "Thank you."

I walk back to my seat without saying another word and turn to my computer, staring unseeingly at the screen. She takes that as her cue to leave, and I look up just in time to catch her walking out. I expect to get back to the case file I was reviewing before the two ladies walked in but find it impossible to do so.

She stays on my mind, this girl. It unsettles me just how fully she occupies my mind, and I am unsurprised when I pull up her profile once more. Something in me seeks to understand what it is about this girl that makes her stand out from all the others who have worked for me before.

Sandy Beck.

I tap my index finger on the table as I stare into those pretty eyes looking straight into the camera. There is nothing particularly unique about the girl. Sure, she's a striking brunette with a body that makes my cock hard, but all that is physical. I can explain away my attraction to her and the effect it has on my body, but what bothers me is the warm feeling I get in my chest when she looks at me.

Is this going to keep happening?

The girl will be gone soon anyway, so I might as well speed up the process. At this point in my life, I cannot handle distraction, and she, Sandy Beck, is a distraction. I need to get rid of her.

***

She stays.

Four days later, and she's still here.

I give her a heavy workload, and she meets all my demands. Where I expect her to glare at me for the amount of work I toss her way, she seems way too excited to have more work to do. Perhaps a little too excited.

Most annoying of all is the fact that I can't bring myself to reprimand her when she makes errors. I am known to raise hell over the slightest of mistakes, but when she looks at me with her bewitching eyes, I can't bring myself to say a word.

Four days after the brown-eyed girl comes into my life, and everything has changed. I have been told I have the rare talent of sucking the life out of bright-eyed kids who come to work for me, and yet, the light in Sandy's eyes remains.

"Here are the case files you asked for, Mr. Hile. I've organized them and made sure everything is in order for your upcoming court appearances," she says, passing over a file to me before placing a clear bag on the empty spot on the desk. "I'm still working on the police report we received for the robbery case, but is there anything specific you would like me to focus on today?"

My eyes lock on the plastic bag on my desk before shifting back to hers. "What is that?"

Her eyes follow mine, and fuck, there is that smile again. It's so bright and innocent. "The kind woman at the bakery told me to bring this for you when I went in to grab your coffee," she beams. "It's a chocolate croissant. I just had one, and they are heavenly."

I stare at her, really stare at this girl, who to me feels unreal. I have never met anyone who smiles so much in my life. No one has ever smiled at me as much as she does. Other than the first day when she was a ball of nerves, she seems to take even to my dark mood well.

It's unnerving.

Everyone in this town is wary of me. They respect the Hile name that's been passed on through generations of lawyers, and some of them fear the power that name carries, but very few of them can withstand my attitude, let alone meet it with a bright smile.

She's different.

Everything about this girl is different.

"I don't eat sweets," I tell her, nudging the bag back toward her, but the smile remains as I do so. "You should take this with you."

"You haven't tried the croissant; you might have a change of heart," she says, unbagging the contents. "Annie, the owner of the bakery, asked me to personally deliver this to you. She would be upset if you turned down her offer, don't you think?"

Who cares what Annie thinks, is what I would say if I didn't personally know the woman. She's been running her bakery since I was a small boy. She is one of the few people in Valor Springs not affected at all by my bad attitude. No, Annie doesn't put with anyone's bullshit, not even mine. Of course, having witnessed my awkward pre-teen years firsthand might have something to do with that.

At least that's something the town's baker shares with my assistant. The only difference between the two is that I don't spend every waking hour thinking of Annie.

For the last four days, Sandy has been front, center, and back of my mind for an alarming amount of time. She is all I ever seem to think about, and when she's near—as she is right now, nudging a box of chocolate croissants toward me—I am too weak to resist her.

I want her.

Perhaps more than I have ever wanted anything in my entire life, but I can't have her. Something tells me it would be unwise to give in to my desires. I have never been involved with any of my staff before, and I am not going to start now.

With Sandy, I know once would not be enough.

No, it's better if I keep my distance.