“Nevertheless, the law is on Mr. Scroogen’s side, and the law must prevail if progress is to be made.”
“Progress? You call ripping apart the seniors’ simple and gentle way of life and replacing it with overpopulation and pollution progress? Scroogen’s great-aunt wanted the seniors to have use of her land. That’s why she gave them a ninety-nine-year lease. What Scroogen is doing circumvents his great aunt’s wishes. He is wrong. I urge you to rethink where your loyalties lie.”
“Ms. Osborne, according to the law, it is your grandmother who is wrong. Mr. Scroogen received his great-aunt’s property without entanglements on her death. He has every right to do with his property as he pleases. And, as for my loyalties, they lie with my client. It is my sworn duty to fight for Dole Scroogen.”
She surprised him completely then by laughing, full and luscious, a sound that filled the room with music and inexplicably tightened the muscles at the back of his neck and down his spine.
“Your sworn duty,” she repeated, amusement still in her tone after she had gotten her laughter under control. “You say that as though you had no choice. Why are you, of all people, representing a man like Dole Scroogen?”
“What do you mean ‘of all people’?”
“I’ve approached you with candor and honesty, Mr. Merlin. I am disappointed that you do not choose to return them.”
“And I am disappointed that you refuse to accept that Mr. Scroogen is within his legal rights to proceed with the building of the condominium complex and evicting the Silver Power League for nonpayment of what is clearly reasonable rent for the facilities they are inhabiting.”
She was up and out of her chair in a flash. She crossed the distance between them with a deliberate, determined stride. She stopped directly in front of him. She stood hands on hips, feet planted. Combative blue eyes bore into him. Yet her voice remained warmly mellow and richly resonant.
“Scroogen is trying to evict the seniors from the land that is rightfully theirs to use and from buildings that they built with their own money and moxie. He is determined to turn their sweet and sane neighborhood into yet another crowded, crime-filled Seattle suburb. And you dare talk to me about his legal rights? Where is your heart?”
“The law has no room for a heart, Ms. Osborne. If human beings decided their fate based on their emotions instead of their minds, our civilization would descend into chaos.”
“And if human beings decided their fate based only on their minds, they might as well be manikins. Mr. Merlin, the law came into being for the sole purpose of sustaining justice between human beings. But like everything else, unless the law is administered by people with hearts—as well as heads—even its great and lofty goal can be corrupted. What you are trying to do for Scroogen will not achieve justice. The man is both beneath contempt and certainly beneath your legal expertise.”
Brett had to admit she spoke well. And he admired the fact that despite the considerable physical arsenal at her disposal, it was her words she wielded at him and not her feminine wiles.
He turned away from the stunning beauty and fire of the lady to down the rest of his drink.
“Who I choose to represent and why is my business.”
“No, Mr. Merlin. By attacking my grandmother you have made it mine.”
His eyes were drawn back to her face. The liquid richness of her voice had not altered. But both the toss of her fiery hair and the sudden blue sparks in her eyes conveyed pure threat. So far this conversation had been full of confrontation and totally lacking in the kind of feminine cajoling he had expected.
Octavia Osborne had a strong will, and it was that will on which she relied. He found himself as stunned by her inner core as he had been by her outer packaging.
Far too stunned.
In a move that he knew to be both prudent and absolutely necessary, he got to his feet and started toward the door.
“Let me show you out, Ms. Osborne. I’m certain your time is valuable and you don’t want to waste it here in a futile attempt to get me to drop my client.”
She joined him at the door a moment later, hurtling her cape expertly across her shoulders and fitting her gloves to her fingers in quick, competent clasps.
“You are making a very grave error representing that man, Mr. Merlin. You will be sorry.”
“The law is on Mr. Scroogen’s side, and I am never sorry to represent the law. Nothing personal, Ms. Osborne.”
She moved closer and looked him straight in the eye, a bold body position reserved only for the fiercest of fighters—or lovers. Her warmth and scent struck him like a blow below the belt, leaving him momentarily both mentally and physically winded.
“If you do not leave my grandmother alone, I will go after your Scrooge of a client and grind him down until the size of his wallet makes even his heart look huge.”
She leaned closer, her sweet breath blowing tantalizingly against his lips. “And everything about it will be personal, believe me.”
She turned then and swept out of his hotel room on that subtle, sophisticated scent that swam in his head until his senses started to spin.
By the time the blaring telephone registered in his ears, Brett realized it had probably gone through several ringing cycles.
He forced himself out of his mental and physical fog, enormously irritated that he had let the woman affect him so strongly. He closed the hotel room door on the now empty hallway. Then he strode toward the phone, grabbed the receiver and said hello.
“It’s Dole,” Scroogen announced on the other end of the line. “I just hung up on a damn irate anonymous caller on my home telephone number!”
“Settle down, Dole. What did the caller say?”
“That they were going to get me. I’m sure it was Mab Osborne’s voice, although she was trying to disguise it. I tell you, Merlin, this morals charge thing is not threatening enough. I want Mab Osborne off the air. She has to be silenced. Forever.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You heard me. I’m going to do whatever it takes to put an end to that woman. Whatever it takes.”
Chapter Two
Octavia strode down the dark hallway of the Seattle law offices of Justice Inc., heading for the one door under which the light still burned. She knocked.
The voice on the other side responded instantly, crisply. She opened the door and stepped inside.
Octavia’s senior partner, Adam Justice, sat behind his desk, his black hair still scrupulously in place, his white shirt unwrinkled, despite the fact that it was nearly midnight and Octavia knew he’d been here since dawn.
“What brings you by so late?” Adam asked, putting down his pen and shifting his paperwork aside.
Octavia had always liked that about Adam. No matter how busy or involved he was on a case, he never failed to stop what he was doing and give her his complete attention.
She swung into a utilitarian steel-and-leather chair in front of his black metal desk. Like the man who inhabited it, this office had been stripped of all but necessary business essentials.
“An attorney is causing some legal problems for my grandmother, and I need to spend time across the Sound in Bremerton to straighten it out.”
“This attorney anyone we know?”
“Brett Merlin. He’s representing a real Scrooge of a small businessman who has it in for my grandmother.”
Adam