Free Wrangling with the Laywer by Fran Louise Page A

who wouldn’t at least spend a few pleasant minutes wondering how soft that skin would feel writhing below him.
    He felt his crotch tighten and forced his mind on to other, less stimulating topics. This was getting annoying; he’d really barely thought about her all week. He’d been busy at work, and busily catching up on his social life. True, it probably hadn’t been a great idea to get involved with Hannah again just to break it off a few days later. He hadn’t been thinking clearly; it was never good practice to return to scene of the crime when you had no plans to stick around and clean up. Still, he hadn’t expected her to take it so badly. Nor had he anticipated that his new car would bear the brunt of Hannah’s anger. Expense aside, even once the paintwork on his Tesla was fixed the car would never be perfect again.
    He turned, leaning his elbows on the polished wood. The problem with Harper was that she wouldn’t enter into a casual relationship with him; he sensed it in his gut. While she seemed like one of the most logical and reasonable women he’d ever met, there was a vulnerable optimism about her that he couldn’t deny. Casual relationships unfortunately required low expectations and a thick skin. An actual relationship was out of the question, obviously. Casual sex would be fine if they were only on the case for a few weeks, but that would run the risk of entering into the casual relationship category if the case extended into months. There were still too many unknowns with the case to accurately predict whether or not he could seduce her and still escape unscathed. He blew air out of his mouth, blindly watching a group of journalists scurry past.
    What, then, did he do with this frustrating, increasingly distracting desire for her? He might have been able to bury it this week in other activities, but he needed a longer-term strategy. Every time she came into his near vicinity, he felt his libido switch on like a light. There seemed to be no dimmer switch associated with it. The feeling was just intensifying the longer he spent with her. It didn’t help that he was becoming a lot more aware of her other admirers in the meantime. Don was ridiculously over-protective of her; case in point, he’d called Gabe last week to complain that the pressure of the patent case has somehow caused her ‘flu symptoms, telling Gabe to postpone the case for a while. Gabe worried his old college buddy might already be in love with her. Not to mention the cause of all of her strife, Joe Davidson. The more he dug around, the more it was starting to sound very like Davidson was working out some serious emotional baggage with this case. Gabe didn’t want to find himself somehow caught up in this farce; the last thing she needed was a bunch of lovesick lawyers defending her against a lovesick ex.
    He glanced over at her, his gaze narrow. She’d denied it outright when he’d asked her about her relationship with Davidson. Everything Gabe knew about people, all of his instincts told him she was telling the truth. Unfortunately, all of his instincts told him that if he felt as sexually attracted to her as he did, Davidson had probably done so, too. Davidson may not have been quite as careful about it; he who had repeatedly used his position of power to score women at Harvard. Charm hadn’t been high on his list of attributes and still wasn’t by all accounts. The only conclusion was that he’d developed feelings for her, and she’d rejected him. Hell hath no fury...
    “Haven’t you got anything better to do than hang around courthouses all day and stare at pretty girls?”
    Gabe turned, seeing one of his young associates watching him. His eyes warmed with humour, and a small concession to having being caught red-handed. Fortunately Jamie Mulligan was not a threat; he was an enthusiastic kid from the wrong side of the tracks who’d worked tirelessly to make it into the firm. Gabe had endorsed him, eager to see some