"If you're going to be responsible for me, you should know about a few pet peeves I have. One of them is condescending men who think they can treat me like a child."

She was far from a child. Stunning legs that stretched for miles and a generous D cup proved that. He zeroed in on the pulse throbbing erratically at the tempting hollow of her throat. What he wouldn't give to lick the sensitive skin there. Trail his tongue along her collarbone and then... He emptied his cup into the sink. "You're in no position to be making demands, Miss Jackson. It's funny that you actually think I would cater to whatever crazy whims you have. As far as the condescension, it's nothing personal. I was born that way."

"You're a s.e.xist pig."

He chuckled, enjoying the fact that she didn't back down. "I've been called worse. And just so you know, two of my pet peeves are grumpy judges and nosey chicks who ask too many questions."

The doorbell rang, throwing a damp blanket on their heated discussion.

Destiny smirked. "Expecting another houseguest?"

He grinned. "Yes, but she's here for you, not me."

Phaedra Ellis was in a word, cla.s.sy. A well put-together woman, she was tall in stature, with her fashionable clothing draped as though she'd just stepped off the catwalk. By Destiny's calculation, she looked to be in her mid-thirties. From her thick, shoulder-length sable hair to her short nails, painted a pale shade of coral, she oozed elegance. She spoke with perfect diction. All of the appropriate words spilled from her heart-shaped lips. After the introductions had been made and Cayson had retreated to his bedroom to change clothes, Destiny felt comfortable asking her first question.

"Are you Cayson's girlfriend?" she asked.

"G.o.d no," Phaedra scoffed. "I'm not that crazy or brave enough to take on that project."

"What's that supposed to mean? Is he a man wh.o.r.e?"

Phaedra sat on one of the plush sofas across from Destiny. "Let's just say he appreciates women in all shapes, sizes, and colors. He never met a v.a.g.i.n.a he didn't like. Now, what skills do you have? Cayson told me you can type."

Destiny noticed how smoothly Phaedra breezed to the next topic. "I'm pretty good at it."

Phaedra nodded as she pulled a small writing tablet from her designer handbag. "I think I can help you find a job in our temp pool. Finding a place to live will take longer."

"Temp pool?"

"I work in Human Resources at JADE. We're always in need of temporary office workers to do things like filing, typing, taking dictation, ordering lunch, you name it."

"Sure, I can do that." The idea of an office job appealed to her. Since she'd graduated from high school, she'd been working retail and waiting tables. She was tired of men ogling her. She wanted something more respectablelike the kind of job Phaedra had. "Have you always worked at JADE?" Destiny asked her.

"No. Before I graduated college, I was a dancer. I lived in Los Angeles at the time. The compet.i.tion was stiff."

Destiny gasped. "You used to be a stripper?"

"Heavens no!" Phaedra covered her chest with a flat palm, her milky-white skin flushed pink. "Why would you ask that?"

"You said you were a dancer."

"Yes, Dear. In the theater. At UC Berkeley. It didn't work out, so I went to work for a law firm. I started out as a receptionist. Then, I got promoted into Human Resource Management."

Destiny laughed. "My bad." She didn't figure Phaedra for the stripper type. Although Destiny would never wiggle her a.s.s on stage for anyone, she didn't judge any woman for doing what she had to do to survive. La'Treece had stripped for years. She seemed to get a sick pleasure out of making men drool over her. That was the only area where the two of them disagreed.

Cayson appeared, dressed in a starched, denim shirt neatly tucked into tan slacks. His belt and stylish loafers matched perfectly. Destiny figured that was his attempt at casual attire. "Are you ladies ready?" he asked.

"Where are we going?" Destiny replied.

Phaedra stood. "To find you some clothes. Are you up for a shopping trip?"

Cayson hated shopping. Correction: he hated shopping with women. When he needed something, he was in and out of a store in less than twenty minutes. Twenty-five if he had to try something on. Destiny had to try everything on. It baffled him that she didn't wear the same size in everything. Some brands "ran big." Some "ran small." Ridiculous. The world was a lot simpler for men. Size 34-34 was the same for men no matter where they shopped in the universe. And men were never in between sizes. Someone should sue the fashion industry over this chaos. He would do it but he was too busy defending criminals.

He sat on a chair in an upscale clothing store in the Galleria Mall. He was surrounded by colorful shopping bags full of what Phaedra called incredible deals. He leaned back, one ankle crossed over his knee. He didn't attend church regularly, but he prayed G.o.d would show mercy on him and speed this process up. He hadn't had a Sat.u.r.day off in a long time, and he didn't relish spending it waiting hours on women to debate between which pair of black pumps to buy. They all looked the same to him!

He scrolled through the e-mails on his blackberry. He couldn't shake the habit of checking his e-mail, even on his off day. Jeez, his life was all work. He half debated sending Barracuda an apology asking her to reconsider Destiny's sentence. But he quickly drowned the thought. He would not cow-tow to her. He checked his wrist.w.a.tch. It was d.a.m.n near one o'clock. Time for lunch. As long as these women were spending money, they wouldn't stop to eatnot even it their stomach acid burned a hole in their colons. It would be up to him to call a cease and desist. He knew a great Italian restaurant a few blocks away. They could stop in for some pesto and red wine.

He stood, preparing to march toward the dressing room and wave a white flag, when he recognized a buxom blonde headed in his direction.

"Cayson, is that you?"

"Adriana!" He juggled bags from hand to hand to give her a quick hug. "It's good to see you." It truly was. She'd been one of the few women to hold his interest longer than a week.

"Really?" She c.o.c.ked her head to the side. A waterfall of jet black curls shifted as she did so. "Because you never called me after that one week."

He kept his smile in place as his eyes lingered on her smooth olive skin. A few months ago, they'd had a fantastic time burning up the sheets. Yet, there wasn't even the slightest spark of attraction now. Why hadn't he called her back?

There's no hope for me. I've been with so many females I don't remember why I ended things with this gorgeous woman.

He deftly sidestepped her remark. "What are you doing here?"

"Shopping."

"Yeah, me too."

Her eyes dropped to the bags he struggled to hold. "Who are you shopping for?" she asked. "This store is for women only. Are you dating someone?"

Now, he remembered why he'd stopped seeing her. She was too possessive.

At that moment, Destiny emerged from a nearby dressing room. She modeled a pair of dark jeans with a trail of rhinestones embellishing the side seams. She squealed with delight. "Cayson, I'm wearing these out of the store. I love them!"

Cayson found it hard to pull his eyes from the blinged-out jeans. The snug denim accentuated Destiny's round a.s.s. She was supposed to be shopping for office attire, but he wasn't going to tell her she couldn't have them.

"Oh, I see," Adriana pouted.

"Uh, it's not what you think..." Cayson wasn't sure why he was making excuses. Adriana wasn't his woman. He didn't have to explain himself to her.

Phaedra waltzed up to the trio. "We're ready, Cayson. Although I can't get Destiny out of those jeans. You'll have to do it."

Adriana's jaw dropped. "Don't tell meyou're part of a threesome. If this is what you wanted, you should have asked!" She stomped away before Cayson could reply.

"Who was that woman?" Destiny asked.

Phaedra burst out laughing. "Another member of Cayson Sullivan's Lonely Hearts Club."

Cayson plunked down his credit card and after d.a.m.n near choking on the amount of the bill, he ushered both women out of the store. He'd lost his appet.i.te. Now, all he wanted to do was get home and take an aspirin for the sudden pounding in his temples. Seeing the look of disappointment on Destiny's face unnerved him. His past never bothered him before, but having Adriana confront him only a day after dealing with Barracuda was slightly embarra.s.sing. It seemed his past "adventures" were catching up with him.

As he pulled onto his street and pressed the b.u.t.ton for the automatic garage door opener, his stomach churned. Sitting on the front porch steps of his home was another familiar figure. Her trademark blonde cornrows hung to her waist. Destiny wriggled excitedly in the pa.s.senger seat as she waved to La'Treece. "Oh my G.o.d! I can't wait to show La'Treece my room," she said.

Destiny sounded like an over-eager teenager. Cayson could see where this was headed, and he didn't like it one bit. He blew out a long breath. To h.e.l.l with that aspirin. He was gonna need a strong drink instead.

Chapter 4.

"I don't care that she has nowhere to stay. She can't stay here."

"Ssh! She'll hear you."

"I don't care." Cayson reclined against the edge of the ma.s.sive desk in his study. His legs were stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. He folded his arms across his chest and gave Destiny his best 'no compromises' stare. "We said this was only temporary. I've made some calls and I'm working on finding you a place to live. I can't be responsible for La'Treece too."

Nor did he want to be. He prided himself on his bachelor lifestyle. He couldn't even fart without worrying if his houseguest could hear. One female was enough. He wasn't ready to tackle living with two.

Destiny stood across from his desk. "La'Treece is like family to me." She dropped her eyes to the floor. Her long lashes swept against her cheeks. When she looked at him again, her pretty brown orbs glistened with unshed tears. "She looked after me while we were in the foster care system. It gets lonely knowing no one in this world cares about you."

Cayson swallowed hard. s.h.i.t. He never knew Destiny had been a ward of the State. "I'm sorry," he offered. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I don't go around blasting my business to everybody. But I thought you should know. I can't leave her out like that."

He ran a palm over his day-old stubble. "Aw, man. I don't know if"

"Please." Destiny clasped his hands, sending a jolt of electricity through him. This was the first time she'd shown any emotion other than outrage. So, Destiny Jackson had a soft side. Her skin was warm and soft to the touch. His thumbs absently stroked her fingertips.

Yeah, definitely softer.

Her eyes caught his and he found himself being pulled into the depths of her gaze. He'd never been good at reading women's emotions. He usually treated them how he wanted and as far as he was concerned, they could take it or leave it. Staring at Destiny, he felt as if she could peer deep inside his soul, silently swaying him with her soothing touch and tearful gaze. The lips of her wide, sensual mouth were parted, as if taking a breath would break the spell she had over him. He pulled his hands free. No, he didn't want to feel compa.s.sion for her or any other female. Staying detached was what had helped him remain objective both in and outside of court.

"This is all new for me," he told her. "I'm not used to having any woman around, much less two. I'm trying to make the best of this situation."

"So am I. Listen, I've seen a lot of hustlers in my life. I've met some people who wanted to take advantage of me, and they d.a.m.n well would have if I didn't have street smarts. I know we don't know each other very well, but I can tell you're one of the good guys, Cayson. And I promise, I'm one of the good guys too."

"I didn't say you weren't."

"But you were thinking it. That trouble I got into was the first time I've ever been arrested. You can trust me. And you can trust La'Treece. We won't be any trouble. You have my word." She shot him a bittersweet smile that could win over the toughest jury. "Maybe Phaedra can find a place for me and La'Treece. She said it shouldn't take longer than a few days. Can you give us that much grace?"

The mention of grace made Cayson think of Gracie. Destiny was in this situation through no fault of her own. Of course, she couldn't abandon La'Treece when she needed her most. He probably would have been just as protective of his own friends if he were in her shoes. He warred with his conscience. He wasn't sure he was making the right decision. But when had he ever listened to his conscience? "Okay," he agreed. "She can stay for a few days. That's it."

"Thank you!" Destiny practically knocked him off balance when she threw her arms around him for a shockingly affectionate hug. She pressed her body against his and kissed him on the cheek. Her lips were warm and inviting on his flesh. He felt the swell of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s through the fleece pullover she wore. She still had on the blinged out jeans. He hugged her back, his fingers itching to feel the globes of her a.s.s in the tight denim.

Down boy! It had been two weeks since what his brothers referred to as his last 'conquest.' s.e.x had taken a back seat to his long work hours, and he was h.o.r.n.y as a randy old goat.

"Thank you. Thank you," Destiny repeated as she tore away from his embrace. "We won't be any trouble, I promise." She pointed her finger at him. "You're a good man, Cayson Sullivan. A good man."

He watched her practically skip out of the room. A good man, my a.s.s. If only she knew how wrong she was.

Johnson, Andrews, Dystroka, and Ellison Law Firm was huge. Located on the twelfth floor of a gla.s.s office building downtown, JADE employed some of the brightest legal minds in the profession. Everything about the firm exuded elegance. Plush offices. Glossy floors. Gold lettering on wood paneled walls. Overpriced art. It was off the chain. And Destiny loved being smack dab in the middle of it. Pa.s.sing by one of the many gold-gilded mirrors, she caught a silly grin on her face. She couldn't believe she was working here. She was so glad Phaedra had taken her shopping. She felt every bit the professional in her black pencil skirt and emerald blouse. The pumps coulda been taller, but Phaedra told her she'd thank her later when her feet weren't throbbing from walking on stilts all day.

She was given a position in the temp pool, filing, typing, and performing general tasks where she could do the least amount of damage. One of her duties was to sort mail. Well, technically she was the second sorter. A young man bobbing to the mysterious beat in his ear buds delivered a bundle of mail to her department. It was her job to toss the junk and make sure anything that looked important was either delivered personally to the recipient or placed in their mail slot. As she browsed through the pile of mail, she came across an invitation to a charity event addressed to Cayson. She smiled to herself. This was the perfect opportunity to drop by his office and say h.e.l.lo.

A slender blonde man sat behind a sleek, black desk outside of Cayson's office. When Destiny approached, the man looked at her like a jackal encroaching on his territory.

"Is Cayson in?" she asked.

His manscaped brows dipped. "You mean Mr. Sullivan?"

Oops! "Yes, I mean Mr. Sullivan. I've got mail for him."

The man stood and stretched his hand toward her. "I'll take that."

"Um, I'm supposed to deliver it personally." A lie, but whatever. She was perfectly capable of giving Cayson his mail.

"I'll make sure he gets it. I'm Byron, his Executive a.s.sistant."

What the f.u.c.k? Byron was taking his job a little too seriously. "The thing is, he asked me to drop it by personally."

Byron smirked. "I'll bet. You and every other wannabe groupie."

Destiny didn't know what he meant by that and she didn't care. All she knew was there was one thing between her and Cayson's doorByron. She tossed him a look that said, 'Don't let the designer pumps fool you. I'm all sistah beneath these patent leathers.' Then, she bustled past him, bogarting her way into Cayson's office.

She slipped in and closed the door behind her. Cayson was deep in his work. Head down. Eyes focused on a doc.u.ment lying on his gla.s.s top desk. A renegade lock of hair dangled over his forehead. "Have you thought of getting a haircut?" she asked.

His head jerked up, and he stared at her, his mouth agape.

"I know I'm breaking protocol," she told him. "But I wanted to give you your mail and see how you were doing." She placed the invitation on his desk. "By the way, what's up with Byron? He could have been a professional gargoyle, guarding your office like it's a freakin' castle or something."

She laughed at her own joke, but Cayson simply continued to stare at her. At least he'd finally closed his mouth. "What's wrong?" she asked. "I got a bat in the cave?" She swiped her palm across her nose.

He frowned. "What?"

"A booger. The way you're gaping at me, I figured I must have a booger in my nose."

He shook his head. "No, there are no...bats...in the cave." He reached for the mail she'd laid on the desk. I appreciate you going through the trouble of bringing this. However," his eyes slid up the length of her body as though he were committing each detail to memory. "I think we should keep our relationship strictly professional in the future. There's no need for people to know about our arrangement outside of work."

"Of course." With the exception of Phaedra, no one knew. And she wasn't about to go blabbing it.

"That means only speak to me when necessary."

She nodded. All of a sudden, a feeling of inadequacy crept into her bones. He didn't want to be a.s.sociated with her. He was only playing nice at home because the judge had ordered him to be responsible for her. He really didn't care for her as a person. She remembered getting stung by a bee when she was ten years old. At the time, she thought it was the worst pain in the world. Now, she had a different type of sting to compare it to. "Fine," she agreed.

"We don't want to create the perception of favoritism."