Counselor Undone Read online

  COUNSELOR UNDONE

  Lisa Rayne

  Fire Sign Press

  Kansas City | Los Angeles

  Cover Teaser

  THE MOST PASSIONATE KISS OF HIS LIFE . . .

  Kansas City attorney MICHAEL REMINGTON is in the middle of a corporate case he can’t afford to lose. The jaded workaholic has laser focus until he’s blindsided by an unsettling distraction—an anonymous encounter that ends with the most passionate kiss of his life. When his search for the sexy mystery woman gets sidetracked by his unexpected attraction to an ambitious new associate, his life goes from merely unsettled to downright complicated.

  THE BIGGEST CASE OF HER CAREER . . .

  JORDIS MORGAN has one goal at her new firm: make partner at all costs . . . well, almost any cost. She’s determined to earn the firm’s coveted case assignment—as Michael's co-counsel on the most high-profile patent case in the country—without having an illicit affair with her boss. More interested in career advancement than romance, Jordis does everything in her power to resist the explosive chemistry brewing between her and the man who's not used to being told no.

  LEADS TO THEIR GREATEST ADVERSARIAL CHALLENGE . . . EACH OTHER

  Amidst evidence of case sabotage and high-stakes litigation he can't risk for an unethical liaison, Michael must make a life-altering choice—fight for the woman he can't live without or hold on to the patent case of the century. In a world where he'd like to have it all, the staid attorney soon finds himself faced with his greatest adversarial challenge—the one to win Jordis's heart.

  Excerpt

  Two . . . One . . . Happy New Year!

  Despite the two flutes of champagne he held in his hand, the gladiator turned her deftly into his embrace. The shawl she’d wrapped around her shoulders fell to the ground as plastic horn toots erupted inside amidst cheers. He slid his occupied fist behind her back, gripped the base of her neck with his other hand, and kissed her thoroughly. She pushed hard against his chest. When she opened her mouth to tell him he’d made a mistake, he took the liberty of sliding his tongue inside to play wickedly with hers. She moaned softly, which caused him to chuckle.

  She didn’t know who this man was or why he thought he had an open invitation to make love to her mouth, but her ability to think straight slowly evaporated. She’d never been kissed like this—like the last beautiful woman on earth. Her libido sparked, making her excited and appalled at the same time. She’d been unattached for fourteen long months, and this hunk’s skill with his tongue sent hot flashes to an area of her body she’d almost forgotten existed.

  About The Author

  LISA RAYNE graduated from Princeton University with a bachelor’s degree in Comparative Literature, went on to obtain a law degree from Stanford, and pass the bar exam in two states. Her passion for the creative arts led her to practice intellectual property, entertainment and media law for many years before she decided to start producing her own creative works instead of simply representing others who did. She currently lives in the Midwest with her two daughters.

  Copyright

  COUNSELOR UNDONE

  Copyright © 2015 by Lisa Rayne

  All rights reserved.

  www.lisarayne.com

  The reproduction, transmission or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form or in any information retrieval system by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter devised (including, without limitation, scanning, digitization, photocopying and recording) is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property and is expressly forbidden without prior written permission. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact the publisher.

  Fire Sign Press,

  a division of Fire Sign Media Group

  PO Box 9150, Kansas City, MO 64168

  www.firesignpress.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental and in no way reflects the nature, character, business practices or opinions of any person or entity for which a resemblance may exist.

  Any trademarks or trade names mentioned are the express property of their respective owners.

  Cover Design by thecovercollection.com

  First edition: August 2015

  The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

  Dedication

  To

  Karol Jarvis and Bonita Thornton

  for always believing in the dream. Every person should have cheerleaders like you in their corner: people who never doubt, never discourage, and always lift up. This book would never have been completed and published without your unfailing support.

  Acknowledgments

  Few authors are lucky enough to start their career with a book club behind them before the first manuscript is even finished. I happen to be so lucky. To the ladies of STCC Book Club (www.stccbookclub.com), many thanks for your support, beta reading time, and invaluable feedback on the storyline and characters of this book (particularly Donna Scoggins, Beverly Jackson, and Laverne Rodgers Smith).

  To the ladies at the fragrance counter at Macy’s Metro North Mall in Kansas City, Missouri (Nancy, Mary, Cathy, Alicia, Paula, and Pam), you rock. The writing and fine-tuning of this book would not have been half as much fun without your constant support and feedback.

  To Dr. Kerrie Herren, although you will probably never read this book, know that I appreciate your diligent and “gentle” pushes to hold me accountable to finish.

  To the awesome Cherry Adair, thank you so much for your invaluable time and guidance during and after your pre-convention plotting course at the Kansas City and New Orleans RT Booklovers Conventions. Figuring out turning points and black moments and how to raise the stakes in fiction shouldn’t have been such a blast.

  And finally, to my new readers and future fans, I’m happy you took a chance on this book. I’m planning a few additional books in this series so please let me know what you think. You can find me online at www.lisarayne.com.

  Happy reading!

  Lisa Rayne

  Table Of Contents

  Title Page

  Cover Teaser

  Excerpt

  About The Author

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  The End

  Chapter 1

  Michael Remington had never had to work so hard for a one-night stand in his life.

  It went against his grain and his ego.

  He’d long ago become jaded about love and all things Cupid, but he generally had no problem finding a casual bedmate when he wanted. As a named partner in a prestigious law firm with political connections and ties to the social elite of Kansas City, women practically threw themselves at him. Yet, here he stood at the local bar association’s annual New Year’s Eve masked ball—at five minutes till midnight—looking for a woman who had made herself scarce. If he hadn’t been the one to walk away from his elusive prey earlier, he’d think he’d lost his touch.<
br />
  “What are you doing standing here all alone?” Michael’s best friend and law partner, Chase Hager, snuck up behind him and slapped him on the shoulder. “The whole point of my convincing you to come was so you could meet someone new.”

  Michael grunted. “I must have been out of my mind. And I can’t believe I let you talk me into this ridiculous costume. I feel like a piece of meat on display.”

  Chase laughed. His eyes scanned the costume that made Michael look like an ancient gladiator sans breastplate. “How do you expect to attract quality prospects if you don’t show off the merchandise?”

  Michael rolled his eyes, finding the comment ironic coming from a guy whose costume kept all his significant body parts covered. “You know I’m not in the market for quality prospects. I’m not in the market for any prospects.”

  “Oh really?” Chase eyed the two champagne glasses in Michael’s hand. “It looks like you’re in the market for something. Didn’t mean to interrupt. Carry on.” Chase walked away, loud chuckles accompanying his self-satisfied grin.

  Michael tuned out the annoying sound of his friend’s retreating mirth and resumed the search for his evening entertainment. She wore a Juliet costume. Other than that, he didn’t know much about her. He hadn’t bothered to ask her any questions or get her real name. It hadn’t mattered. The moment she’d spotted him, she’d turned on a flirt that promised more than good conversation.

  Not one, usually, to go for the vampy come-on, he’d humored her. He may be jaded, but he wasn’t rude. She’d made a pouty complaint about her Romeo having gone off “roaming” and suggested Michael play her knight in shining armor. He’d laughed and responded, “Wrong costume.”

  When she’d looked at him with a blank stare, he’d realized she couldn’t make the distinction between a Roman gladiator and a knight of the realm. He’d wondered if her Elizabethan-styled wig covered a natural blond. Then he’d chastised himself for the insensitive stereotyping. A woman didn’t have to be blond to be intellectually challenged. He’d met enough female cerebral lightweights to know.

  Categorizing Juliet as good for an easy lay, but never one to rise above an occasional late night tryst, he’d politely excused himself. He hadn’t originally felt like playing the game tonight. He’d recognized her type and the hunger in her eyes immediately. He avoided—or fought off—women like her all the time, women set on attaching themselves permanently to a rich professional with a strong reputation in the community.

  He didn’t make himself available for that kind of liaison. At thirty-eight, he’d seen enough of his buddies take the plunge only to end up doing the sap two-step when romantic bliss turned into an episode of reality TV divorce court. He’d almost made that mistake once, with a firm colleague no less, and his engagement had ended in disaster. He’d learned his lesson. He didn’t believe in forever-after, and he didn’t think this masked ball would net him a Cinderella. He had one use for women currently—a physical use, which is exactly where his one-night stand came in, if he could find her.

  He glanced at the two flutes of champagne in his hand, tempted to down them both. He abstained. He’d probably had one too many drinks already. After he’d escaped Juliet, he’d had a few to take the edge off his boredom. That had been a mistake. He’d only managed to slide his boredom into frustration.

  His gladiator costume had brought out the predator in otherwise reserved ladies. After being groped and propositioned relentlessly by women he knew—despite their masks and costumes—and a few he didn’t, he’d decided to go with it. Maybe getting laid for the first time in four months would improve his disposition. Unfortunately, now that he’d decided to give in to dimwitted Juliet’s offer of a sure thing, she’d disappeared.

  He should have stayed home and watched the ball drop over Times Square. Better yet, he should have gone to the office to figure out how a box of discovery documents had gone missing in his multi-million dollar patent infringement case. He planned to build the firm founded by his late father and his grandfather into a national powerhouse. He wouldn’t succeed if he dropped the ball on the intellectual property case of the year, a case journalists predicted would change the legal landscape for pharmaceutical patents.

  He sighed. He’d deal with his case issues tomorrow. Banishing work from his mind, he stepped onto the balcony of the penthouse condo. A smile spread across his lips. A lovely vision stood staring at the view over the railing. He’d found her.

  * * *

  Mask still in place, a costumed Juliet stood on the balcony wondering why she hadn’t left this party. The couple she’d planned to meet, her first cousin plus one, hadn’t shown and she didn’t know anyone else here.

  She hated New Year’s Eve parties. She didn’t need to wax nostalgic about the past year. Betrayal and heartbreak had haunted most of the last three hundred and sixty-five days. She’d left the unpleasant memories behind in Los Angeles six months ago, and she never wanted to revisit them. As for New Year’s resolutions, the only resolution that mattered mandated letting nothing—and no one—distract her from making partner by the end of the year at the KC law firm to which she’d recently transferred.

  She’d only come to this midnight-fest foray—against her better judgment—to appease her cousin. Then she’d compounded the mistake by letting her cousin arrange for her costume. She’d wanted Cleopatra, but a mix-up at the costume shop had led to the delivery of this Juliet getup instead. By the time she’d realized the mistake, the shop had closed and she couldn’t make an exchange. She planned to give her mysteriously absent cousin a scathing piece of her mind for pressuring her to attend this party because she “needed to meet new people” then leaving her high and dry.

  The sound of the balcony door sliding open drew her attention. She turned towards a walking piece of art wearing a gladiator costume.

  Four . . . Three . . .

  “Juliet! There you are!” the masked gladiator cooed, his baritone voice slightly singsong from one too many glasses of wine . . . or something. “I wondered where you’d gone.” He placed a strong hand around her arm.

  Two . . . One . . . Happy New Year!

  Despite the two flutes of champagne he held in his hand, the gladiator turned her deftly into his embrace. The shawl she’d wrapped around her shoulders fell to the ground as plastic horn toots erupted inside amidst cheers. He slid his occupied fist behind her back, gripped the base of her neck with his other hand, and kissed her thoroughly. She pushed hard against his chest. When she opened her mouth to tell him he’d made a mistake, he took the liberty of sliding his tongue inside to play wickedly with hers. She moaned softly, which caused him to chuckle.

  She didn’t know who this man was or why he thought he had an open invitation to make love to her mouth, but her ability to think straight slowly evaporated. She’d never been kissed like this—like the last beautiful woman on earth. Her libido sparked, making her excited and appalled at the same time. She’d been unattached for fourteen long months, and this hunk’s skill with his tongue sent hot flashes to an area of her body she’d almost forgotten existed.

  Without removing his lips from hers, the gladiator backed her into a corner alcove west of the sliding glass door, not stopping until her back nearly touched the stone wall. With a bit of apprehension, she noticed darkness covered the alcove he’d selected, the few existing patio sconces not aggressive enough to throw their light around the turn in the wall. Her mind began to whirl. She shouldn’t be here—not at this party and definitely not in this man’s arms.

  She pushed harder against his chest. “Please.”

  Pulling back slightly, he handed her a glass of champagne. “Honey, there’s no need to beg. Whatever you want, I plan to give it to you all night long.”

  She accepted the glass on reflex. “You don’t understand—”

  “Here’s to the New Year,” he interrupted and lifted his glass dramatically. He paused, as if searching for a more mindful toast, but simply added with a wicked grin,
“It’s suddenly looking very promising.” He downed his champagne in one gulp then tossed the flute onto a cushion-covered wrought iron chair not far away. “Drink up, Juliet.” He wrapped his fingers around hers on the stem of the glass she held and assisted it to her lips. “Don’t you know it’s bad luck not to drink to a toast made on New Year’s Eve?”

  She took a sip while pressing persistently against his chest with her other hand. He budged a smidge. Her breathing came easier with the space she’d created between them until she realized his stingy costume left most of his chest bare. Her hand rested against the wall of his smooth pectorals, and what a wall it was. He sported the physique of a Calvin Klein underwear model, all planes and bulges and six-pack. Those reawakened body parts began to liquefy.

  “Y-You’ve made a mistake,” she murmured, flustered by her unexpected female response to him. Though she could count the number of lovers she’d had on half of one hand, she didn’t lack sexual experience. Still, none of her lovers, even the man to whom she’d once been engaged, had stirred in her with a simple kiss a fraction of the heat currently rising inside her. “I think you’re looking for someone else.” And that’s a shame, she thought, surprising herself.

  The gladiator smiled down at her. She stood approximately five feet ten in the flat leather sandals she wore, but he still stretched several inches above her. He had to be well over six feet tall. She’d gotten a brief look at his face before he embraced her and noted odd colored eyes in a rugged face. He wore his hair a little long. The back brushed the top of his epaulettes, and a wavy wisp fell across his forehead, touching the top of a dark brow. Given the paucity of the starlight, she couldn’t quite discern the color of the tresses—black or maybe a deep brown. He qualified as objectively handsome by any woman’s standards, but she didn’t understand this intense attraction. Even with his olive-toned skin, he didn’t fit her usual type.