Free Because of You by Rochelle Alers Page B

without looking at the display. “This is Jordan.”
    â€œJordan, Aziza.”
    His heartbeat kicked into a higher gear when her sultryvoice came through the earpiece. He knew the only way she could’ve gotten his cell number was if Brandt had given it to her. “What’s up, Zee?”
    â€œI hate to ask you to do this to you, but is it possible for us to meet today?”
    He hesitated for a few seconds. “Sure. Um…”
    â€œI just got a call from a client that her teenage son was arrested for a DUI. They’re not going to release him until he’s arraigned on Monday, so I want to meet with her Saturday to let her know what to expect.”
    â€œNo problem, Aziza. I’m on my way.”
    Jordan ended the call. He reversed his actions when he turned off the stereo, computer, retrieved his jacket and turned out the lights. Half an hour after walking into the offices of Chatham and Wainwright, he was back in his car, leaving Manhattan for Westchester County.

Chapter 5
    A ziza chided herself for asking Jordan to drive to Bronxville when she read the crawl along the bottom of the television screen. A winter weather alert was in effect for the tristate area. The day before, temperatures had been in the upper 40s, and within twenty-four hours it was now in the mid-twenties with a forecast of sleet and, in some of the northern counties, snow.
    It had been an hour since she’d called him, and during that time rain had changed over to sleet, and now it was snowing—heavily. Maybe, she thought, he’d changed his mind about driving up once he’d seen the weather forecast. She picked the receiver off the cradle in the kitchen and hit redial. It rang three times before his sonorous voice filled her ear.
    â€œThis is Jordan.”
    She smiled. “And this is Aziza. I’m calling to tell you that if you haven’t left the city, then don’t. It’s snowing like crazy up here.”
    A deep chuckle caressed her ear. “It’s too late. I’m pulling into your driveway as we speak.”
    Her stomach did a flip-flop. “Don’t turn off your car. I’m going to raise the garage door so you can park inside.” She hung up, walked over to the door that led to an attached garage and pressed a button. The automatic door slid up and a racy sports car maneuvered next to her late-model Nissan SUV.
    Aziza wasn’t aware of how fast her heart was beating until she saw Jordan Wainwright emerge from his car. She’d spent all day trying to remember what he’d actually looked like. It was one thing to observe a person one-on-one, and another when they were around the other people. Even sitting with him in Brandt’s library had proven to be a distraction, because at any time someone could’ve walked in. What she hadn’t forgotten were his eyes. They were dazzling.
    â€œWhere’s your coat?” she asked, stepping back when he walked into the kitchen.
    Jordan smiled. “It’s in the car.” Leaning over, he kissed her cheek. “How are you?” His eyes swept over her. Aziza Fleming was a chameleon.
    The night before she had been a sexy siren in a revealing dress and stilettos, and today she’d morphed into the girl next door in a pair of fitted jeans that showcased the womanly curves of her body, long-sleeve tee and black suede ballet-flats shoes. A few wisps had escaped from her dark hair that she’d pinned up off her neck.
    Aziza inhaled his warmth and the lingering fragrance of a man’s cologne that was as bold and dramatic as the man standing in her kitchen. Jordan Wainwright appeared taller and larger than he had the night before. His tailored attire had artfully concealed a toned body that was incongruous with someone who spent hours sitting behind a desk. Hehadn’t shaved, and the stubble on his lean jaw enhanced rather than detracted from his patrician face. In fact, she liked seeing him in