Free Counselor Undone by Lisa Rayne Page A

weekend plans she could have made,
and he was in a whole mess of trouble. He’d been drawn to her looks and legal
acumen on a conscious level, but a connection this strong had to come from
someplace deeper. How could he fight an attraction that was turning out to be
so much more than physical, especially if he allowed his physical needs to dominate
his interactions with her?
    The voice of his mystery woman resounded in his head: Something
tells me that after tonight, we’d be hard pressed to rewind to
getting-to-know-you drinks or dinner and a movie. Perhaps she’d imparted a
lesson he needed to heed. Wasn’t he about to make the same mistake?
    Michael fought his urge to devour Jordis. Indecision flitted
through her eyes. They needed to downshift.
    She wrapped a finger through the belt loops on either side
of his pants to steady herself. Her grasp shifted him slightly, causing his
erection to rub against the V shielding the pleasure point beneath her
pubic bones. A look of intimate bliss flitted across her face. Her eyes closed,
and her head fell back against the wall. An odd sound squeezed from her throat.
The sound whipped him mentally back onto a night-shrouded balcony where another
woman had made a similar sound.
    Juliet?
    Jordis’s eyes flitted open.
    Had he said that name out loud? Michael was searching her
face for some clue she’d heard and recognized the name when the elevator
bounced to a stop with an annoying ping.
    He quickly stepped back.
    Saved by the bell , he
thought. But who had been saved—her or him?
    Jordis rebuttoned her blouse with fast, adept fingers. The
elevator door slid open with a hydraulic hiss, quelling the mood inside the
elevator. Michael picked up their briefcases and placed his hand against the retracted
door, waiting for Jordis to exit. His eyes strayed to a round black recessed
globe in the upper right corner of the elevator. He did a double take. Shit.
    Jordis moved past him without making eye contact and headed
for the glass doors leading from the elevator bay.
    The parking garage had that eerie glow that came from low
wattage florescent light bouncing off grayish concrete walls, pillars and
floors. Very little traffic cruised this part of the city late at night so
quiet hovered around them despite the garage’s open access to the adjacent
two-way street.
    Stepping into the lowest level of the five-story structure,
Michael scanned the parking garage and noticed a Dodge Charger SRT SuperBee in
vibrant orange parked to his right. He allowed his eyes to glide over the racy
sports car in appreciation before moving on to the silver Lexus SUV parked two
spots closer. Michael headed for the Lexus, the only other vehicle visible
inside the garage besides his black Lincoln Navigator. The sound of Jordis’s
heels striking the concrete floor echoed through the garage, punctuating the
noticeable lack of conversation between them.
    When they reached the driver’s side door of the Lexus,
Michael turned towards her and extended his hand.
    She looked blankly at him.
    “Keys?”
    Without taking her eyes from his, Jordis reached into her
jacket pocket and pulled out her key fob. She leaned forward, bypassing his
outstretched hand, as if to unlock the door. At the last second, she turned the
fob towards the Charger and hit the automatic unlock button.
    When the Charger’s lights blinked in concert with a pitched
mechanical beep, Michael’s eyes widened. “She’s yours?”
    “She?”
    Michael shrugged. “With a body like that, every man on the
planet would consider that Bee to be a woman.”
    He’d driven the Navigator today instead of his Jag because
the forecast had included a chance of snow. Even though he drove a foreign
sports car, he loved a good ole American muscle car. In fact, he had a classic
‘69 Camaro, which had belonged to his father, at home in his four-car garage.
    Jordis’s SuperBee was a thing of beauty, and it suited her
right down to the sassy color. It had sleek lines,