“Will you please lower your voice?” Farrah scolded, scanning the faces of the mothers-to-be who were sharing glances that she was certain had everything to do with them.
“You can’t have it both ways, you know,” he said, narrowing his gaze on her flushed face. “Just because you’re jealous—”
“I’m not jealous,” she snapped through a forced smile. “And I’m certainly not the one who was sneaking around trying to find out what’s going on between me and Trey Steel, who wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you.”
Tremaine Steel, often called Trey by his family and friends, was a wealthy senior partner in his family’s exceptionally successful law firm, and had become involved in defending Blake & Montgomery in a patent lawsuit. He had a reputation for being a talented attorney who loved the ladies. From what Robert had learned about the man, his looks, deep pockets and wicked charm could make a woman drop to her knees. The report on Robert’s desk spoke to the fact that plenty of them had done just that, and a lot more, on more than one occasion.
Blake & Montgomery had been entangled in a lawsuit over the ownership of a security patent for a single-system digital device that would incorporate all of one’s personal and business security needs for the past five years.
Ted Jefferson Jr., the son of a deceased former business partner of the firm’s founders, Frank Blake and Milton Montgomery, was claiming that it was his father’s original drawings and specs on which Robert had based his ideas for a revolutionary new security system that would allow users to secure their home, business and digital information using fingerprint and palm-recognition technology.
Farrah had played a vital role in developing their defense from the moment she joined the company, and within the last two years had become the lead attorney on the case. Although the lower courts had offered a judgment in their favor, Blake & Montgomery was being forced to defend itself in both the media and through the court’s appeals process.
Robert had requested and gained the board’s support to bring in an outside attorney to take over the case through the next phase of its defense, especially since it was his own program designs that were at the center of the dispute. Strangely enough, a furious Farrah had decided not to fight the board on the matter. Instead she insisted on being a part of the attorney selection process. That should have been his tip-off that she was up to something. Farrah’s selection of Tremaine Steel was an exceptional choice happily accepted by all concerned—almost all.
Tremaine Steel had successfully argued cases before both the State and Federal Supreme Courts, which made him the perfect person to handle the Blake & Montgomery patent appeal. But as far as Robert was concerned, he had better steer clear of Farrah, or Robert might find himself in need of an attorney of his own for a far different reason.
“I wasn’t sneaking around doing anything,” Robert protested. “I may have inquired a few times as to what was going on with the case.” He ran his right hand through his hair. “Look, we’ve talked about this already. You know that I think you’re an amazing attorney. It’s just, with all the different types of claims being leveled...”
Farrah twisted her neck around and her eyebrows flew up.
“Wait,” Robert raised his hands in surrender, trying to hold off the scolding he knew was coming. “Not that you don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Whatever,” she said, giving him a dismissive wave. “You got what you wanted. Just stay out of my business from now on. We certainly don’t need a repeat of Vegas.”
* * *
Vegas. Ah, Vegas. How could he forget?
Farrah was winding through the casino floor of the MGM Grand Hotel, trying to block all the noise—bells, cheers of joy and tears of disappointment—preparing to enter the unseasonably warm April weather, when she saw Robert Gold heading her way. “What are you doing here?”
“Meeks sent me to help you.”
“To settle a contract dispute? How exactly do you plan to help me do that?”
He shrugged. “In any way you need.”
“Go home, Robert,” Farrah shot back as she moved around him and continued toward the exit.
Robert followed her outside, pulling his aviator sunglasses down from his head and over his eyes. “Look, I’m here to stay, so you might as well put me to work.”
Farrah reached into her bag and pulled out a document and a certified check. “It’s already done,” she said, handing him the document and placing a pair of Chanel sunglasses over those sexy siren eyes.
Robert put his right arm over Farrah’s shoulders and smiled. “Well, in that case, it’s the weekend, so let’s play.” For two people who had been dancing around the edges of friendship and passion since she’d joined the family business, play, which included a lot of tequila, was the operative word. Marriage happened to be the unexpected endgame.
“For the millionth time, I didn’t crash your Vegas trip,” Robert insisted. “Meeks sent me to help.”
“Help I didn’t need,” she shot back, rubbing her temple. “Look, it’s just...”
“Just what? Finish your thought,” he demanded.
Farrah moved to the corner of the room and Robert enjoyed the wonderful view as he followed on her heels. She turned and faced him. “You shouldn’t be flirting in front of me. At least not until after our divorce is final. You should have more respect for me and our marriage, no matter how short-lived it may be. Is that too much to ask?”
“Respect for a marriage you claimed was a mistake,” he replied. “One you can’t get out of fast enough—is that the marriage we’re talking about? The one you want me to respect?” Robert said through his teeth with his fist clenched at his side as he fought for control. Why couldn’t she see what they had—could still have—was special? Why did it have to end up like a cliché?
They stared at each other in silence. Robert had never wanted a woman as much as he wanted Farrah. Not even the betrayal by his college sweetheart that had made him swear off serious relationships could compare to what he felt for Farrah. He adored everything about her. From the way she challenged and pushed him to her fierce and protective love for her family. Standing this close, he could smell the scent of her favorite vanilla shampoo and it, along with the sexy dress that draped her body like a second skin, sent his body on high alert.
Farrah lowered her head and shook it slowly. “We had a little too much to drink in Vegas.” She lifted her head to meet his gaze. “We got married on a dare. At some cheesy little spot called the Tunnel of Love Chapel,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. “Who does that?”
Robert clamped down on his factual answer that it happened more times than people liked to give credit.
“You bet it was a mistake,” she continued. “Hell, we both agreed it was a mistake.”
Robert sighed and nodded. He had agreed that marrying the way they had—at a drive-through window—was a mistake, but he was convinced that the marriage itself wasn’t one at all. An awareness he’d come to after realizing his friendly feelings for Farrah had developed into something deeper and irrevocable. The thought that she could be showing some serious interest in Tremaine Steel made his need to convince Farrah that they belonged together much more urgent.
“That reminds me. Have you heard from Fletcher?” she asked. “He has filed the papers, right?”
Fletcher Scott was the private detective turned lawyer they often used when they didn’t want their agency directly involved in certain cases, mostly for “personal” activities. A secret marriage and quickie divorce didn’t get any more personal. Farrah was very thankful that Fletcher could keep a secret, even from her sisters.
“Yes,