“What about Blair?” Carl asked.
Evan closed the folder and sat in his chair. “Are you ready to make the arrest?” he asked Mike.
“As soon as you give me the word.”
“I want the element of surprise, so do it first thing in the morning.”
“Yes, sir,” Mike said, and left the room with the other detective.
“What about Blair?” Carl asked again.
“I hope Sam has the good sense to tell her before this breaks. If he doesn’t, I’ll let her know before it hits the press.”
“I don’t like hurting Blair,” Carl admitted.
“Well, you’d better put those feelings where I won’t see them,” Evan told him. “This case will be the hardest you’ve ever tried and you can’t let emotions sway your thinking.”
“I won’t, Evan. You know that.”
“I do, but having Blair in our office makes it difficult. She’ll have to choose between her job and her family. I guess we’ll see whether she hates defense attorneys as much as she claims.”
CHAPTER FOUR
BLAIR HAD a restless night. So many things were crowding in on her that she couldn’t sleep. She’d apologized to everyone at the party and said she had a headache and quickly left. She could see that her father was upset with her and her mother was worried. Blake begged her to stay, but she couldn’t. She had to leave.
Raye’s threat had her running scared, and her fear was making her act irrational. She’d been rude to her family and Lucas, and she hoped an apology would suffice. If that wasn’t good enough for Lucas, she didn’t really care.
Stop it, she said to herself. Stop blaming Lucas for everything. Her father had invited him, so he had a right to be there. And she’d told her father several times that she didn’t want to work in his firm. She was happy keeping criminals behind bars. So what was the problem? Lucas, she muttered aloud. He had such an odd effect on her and she wanted—
“What? What?” she shouted into the darkness. When she didn’t get an answer, she grabbed her pillow and headed into the living room to curl up on the sofa. What did she want from Lucas? He was always so pleasant, and that irritated her. He was always smiling, and that irritated her, too. He was very good-looking and that irritated the hell out of her. No man had any business being that handsome and charming. Was that it? Was she attracted to Lucas?
No! She sat up and tried to dismiss the possibility, but she couldn’t. Maybe she was attracted to Lucas—and maybe that was why she was always pouncing on him. Maybe that was why he made her so angry. No. She shook her head vehemently. It couldn’t be.
She lay down and tried to come to grips with her contradictory reactions. She didn’t know how to do that, but she owed Lucas an apology for her behavior—of that she was sure. He’d been nothing but pleasant, and she had literally come unglued. That wasn’t Lucas’s fault; that was hers.
All these years, she’d been trying to bridge the gap between her father and her brother—not understanding that there was also a gap between her father and her. That had become clear tonight when she’d reacted so violently to Lucas’s presence. He was right; she had been waiting for Sam Logan’s approval.
She groaned into her pillow, thinking this was a little too much soul-searching. Life was becoming too complicated, too fast, and all she wanted to do was sleep.
She heard a noise outside the living room window and immediately sat up, her heart in her throat. Then she relaxed as she realized it was only the wind. She lived in a gated apartment complex, so there was no way anyone could get in without her knowing it. Still, she felt uneasy. She went into the bedroom and got her purse. Pulling out the small pistol, she carried it into the living room. She placed it on the end table within easy reach. If anyone had told her years ago that a gun would make her feel more secure, she would have laughed. But the gun gave her the extra bit of reassurance she needed to face her fears. No one was going to attack her again.
As she drifted off to sleep, her last thoughts were of Lucas. Tomorrow she’d apologize for her rudeness. Knowing Lucas, he’d accept and they’d go back to battling it out in court. Polite adversaries—that was all they could ever be.
LUCAS WOKE UP with a frown on his face—and the urge to strangle Blair Logan still on his mind. He was finished with apologizing to that woman and he was certainly finished with making excuses to her. As far as he was concerned, Blair could go to hell.
Running both hands over his face, he stumbled out of bed in his black briefs and headed for the kitchen. The strong smell of coffee pulled him forward. Thank God he used a cleaning service. He paid the woman extra to make his coffee. The coffeepot had a timer and coffee was ready at precisely six o’clock every morning. He wasn’t human until he’d had his first cup.
He poured a mug full, letting the aroma tantalize his nostrils. He picked up the mug and returned to the bedroom. Sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard, he sipped at the black magic. Oh, yeah… After a moment, he tipped his head back, feeling his brain slowly come alive. Now he could face the day.
But the day wasn’t on his mind; last night was—and Blair. After leaving her family’s home, he’d driven around for a while, then planned to see Jennifer. He had thought he’d salvage something of the night. But he kept seeing Blair’s wounded face. He had hurt her, unintentionally, but still he’d been the cause of her pain. He didn’t like that. It left a bitter taste in his mouth and he had no desire to be with Jennifer or any other woman. So he drove home, determined to put the evening and Blair behind him.
But his first thoughts this morning were of her. “Damn you, Blair Logan, stay out of my head,” he shouted to the room. He got up, coffee in hand, and walked into the bathroom. He set the mug on the vanity as he stared at himself in the mirror. His dark hair was tousled across his forehead and he had a growth of dark beard. He drew one hand over the stubble and did a double take. He raked his hair back to look more closely at his temples. Gray hair! His hair was turning gray. Damn, when did that happen?
The absurdity of it hit him and he started to laugh. What the hell did he care if he had gray hair? But he was getting older, and he wasn’t any closer to settling down than he’d been ten years ago. That was what bothered him. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life alone.
He left the bathroom, opened a drawer and pulled out a tank top and jogging shorts. He slipped into them, then hurried toward the front door. He ran two miles every morning, and he was going to run until all his frustrations were gone. Then he’d call Jennifer, apologize again, and tonight he’d deal with the rest of his frustrations. Assuming Jennifer was willing to help, of course… That was his plan, anyway.
And Blair? Well, Blair had her own problems and he didn’t want any part of them. It would probably take a team of psychiatrists to sort out her issues with her father. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob. Hell, that was one thing he and Blair had in common—he had issues with his father, too. They actually had something to talk about. He shook his head, ridding himself of that idea. He wasn’t talking to Blair. He wasn’t doing anything with Blair except forget he’d ever met her.
Dammit, Blair, stay out of my head.
WHEN BLAIR GOT to her office, she knew something was wrong. People were rushing through the corridors, phones were ringing and everyone was ignoring her.
“April.” She interrupted Evan’s secretary. “What’s going on?”
“I can’t talk now. I’ve got a million things to do,” she said nervously as she hurried off.
Must be some major new case, Blair thought, entering her office. She’d find out later. She put her heavy