“What do you mean, you can’t help me?” Elisa demanded.

The man in the three-piece pinstripe suit sitting across from her moved his shoulders in a half shrug. He leaned back in his opulent black leather chair and folded his hands on his rounded belly. “Beyond sending them a letter, there really isn’t anything we can do for you.”

Three days after receiving the business card from Brody, Elisa had been able to attain an appointment with the McDermott family lawyer. At first the man’s secretary had been hesitant to allow Elisa time in their office. But after Elisa had tossed Brody’s name around, the woman’s tone changed. She’d been pretty darn accommodating after that. Unfortunately, now Elisa was receiving a too-bad, so-sad response from the lawyer.

Stephen R. Franks, Esquire, rubbed his hand along his cleanly shaven chin. “Do you want to file an official lawsuit against them?”

“If that’s what it’s going to take to get the money they owe me, then yes.”

His sharp blue eyes bore into hers for a moment. “What evidence do you have against them?”

Elisa blinked back at him. “Evidence?” she repeated.

“Yes, you know…” He waved a hand in the air. “Some kind of document that proves this illegal activity they’re performing.”

She gripped her hands tighter in her lap and forced herself not to stomp her feet in frustration. “I don’t have an official document, but—”

“Without anything on paper, there isn’t anything we can do.” He paused, as if in thought. “Look.” He leaned forward in his chair. “You said you have this contact at a magazine who first notified you of this, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Get in touch with her, and find out if she documented the conversation. Anything would be helpful: an e-mail she can print out, phone records, a fax she received. Something that has on paper their intent to illegally sell your photographs for their own profit. Without that, all I can do is send a letter. But in order to do so, I’d need some contact information for them. An address and a name would be good.”

Elisa gnawed her lower lip. “I can give you the guy’s name, but I don’t know if I have their address.”

“Didn’t you once have a contract with them?”

A small amount of relief loosened her tense muscles. “Yes, I did.”

Mr. Franks nodded his head. “Find the contract and fax it to my secretary. I can reference it, and their address should be stated somewhere.”

She picked her purse up off the plush carpeting and settled it in her lap. “I really appreciate the help. I honestly didn’t know where to turn.”

His eyes softened. “What they’re doing isn’t right. I’ll do what I can to help you.” He patted her hand like a father would his child. “And any friend of the McDermotts is a friend of mine.”

“Thank you.” She gathered her purse and left the luxury law offices.

Overhead clouds dotted the sky and lent relief from the blazing sun. Elisa slid into her SUV with a small amount of relief washing over her. Mr. Franks had waved a light at the end of her uncertain tunnel. His ridiculous fee for typing a single-page letter would be worth it if he could settle the matter. All she wanted was for this company to pay her the money they owed her. Was that so much to ask?

But more than that, if these jerks didn’t pay her the money they legally owed her, she might not be able to scrape together enough to travel around after the Mongolia job, if that’s what she ended up doing. And the deadline was coming up. Like, really soon.

Yeah, no pressure there. Nothing important or anything.

If that was the case, then, by default she wouldn’t have to choose whether or not to leave Brody and Trouble. She wouldn’t have a choice.

Elisa wasn’t sure she liked that scenario much better. Call her crazy, but she liked having control over her own life. And, right now, it felt anything but in control.

As she made her way through the town and toward home, Elisa’s thoughts drifted from lawyers to Brody. Here she was, supposed to be concerned with this legal mess and potentially not being able to fulfill her dream, and all she could think about was the man who’d all but thrown her into a sexual paradise. What did that mean? How was she supposed to go through the motions of her everyday life, when Brody kept inserting himself into her thoughts?

Definitely not how she’d planned things to go. She was supposed to get her career in order, globe-trot a little, collect a few sizable paychecks, then meet Mr. Right. It wasn’t all supposed to hit her at once. At least not to the extent that she couldn’t focus on a potentially serious matter without her mind wandering to Brody and the magic muscle between his thighs.

Oh, the man was crafty. Crafty little… gorgeous man.

And yeah, except he wasn’t so little. Big was more like it. No, freakin’ huge.

Stop! Focus, lady!

She’d gone the weekend without seeing him, but thoughts of him had haunted her for the past several days. Thanks to their lovemaking, she hadn’t been able to look at her couch without her muscles melting in desire. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him, felt him. Never had any man taken such time with her body or paid attention to what made her gasp. Brody had shown her a whole other side of seduction she’d only read about, but never thought could happen to her. She succumbed to his will far easier than she had any other man. Perhaps that was because she was downright and head-over-heels in love with the man. Hell, there was no point in denying it. She loved Brody McDermott with a fierceness she hadn’t known she possessed.

And she would have to leave him. Never in her life did she think she’d have to choose between her career and a man she loved.

What the hell kind of choice was that? Would it be impossible to have both? In her world, it would be. And, even worse, she didn’t have much time to make the decision. Hell, if she were to base it on her lovemaking with Brody, the choice would be a no-brainer. To hell with Mongolia. Unfortunately, relationships weren’t all naked skin and toe-curling orgasms, as much as she’d like them to be. They were a ton of work and a lot of risk. And sometimes the risks outweighed the good. What was the risk to her?

Missing out on the greatest opportunity to come her way. As of now, Elisa wasn’t so sure she’d survive taking that risk.


Elisa turned into her neighborhood and drove down the tree-lined street. She pulled into her driveway and parked the car in the garage. In an hour, Tyler would come through her front door and begin the wait for his father. Then Elisa would see Brody. Would things be weird, as they’d been when he left on Friday? Four days without seeing him felt like forever.

There was so much he refused to share with her. Maybe she wasn’t important enough. Maybe, to him, she was nothing more than a fling, and therefore he saw no need to let her in. Had that been his plan all along? Bed her, then cast her aside? Of course, if that happened, she’d have no one to blame but herself. She’d given herself willingly to him without thinking of the aftermath. She’d been so consumed with his bedroom voice and the way he undressed her with his eyes.

She entered the house, and her gaze strayed to the couch, as it always did since they’d made love there. Images of tangled legs, Brody’s naked skin, and his voice whispering in her ear danced around in her mind again. She needed to do something productive to take her mind off Brody.

Something like locating her old stock contract. Luckily for her, organization had become a science for her over the years. Her filing cabinet was filled with important papers she’d been leery of tossing away. Over the next hour, she pored over the contract and underlined phrases she felt would be of use to Mr. Franks. After faxing the document, Elisa got on the phone with Shelly, her contact at the magazine, and drilled the woman with questions. She explained about her visit with an attorney.

“I’m afraid I don’t have anything documented,” Shelly explained. “We had one phone call.”

Elisa gripped the phone harder and paced around her bedroom. “The guy didn’t send you an e-mail or anything?”

“I do remember getting something from him, but I’d have to dig through my inbox.”

“Okay. What about a phone record, or something?” There had to be something concrete on these people.

Shelly’s sigh radiated through the phone line. “I’d have to do some serious digging for that. But, Elisa, even if I got a record of the call, I don’t know if that would do you any good.”

“Why not?”

“All the record will show is a time and date stamp of the call. It won’t show what the conversation was about.”

Elisa sank on her bed and stared down at the Berber carpeting.

“Let me see what I can find for you,” Shelly said when Elisa didn’t respond. “It’ll take me a few days.”

“I appreciate it, Shelly. Anything you can send me would be great.”

They said their good-byes. Elisa set the phone on the bed and lay back on the soft comforter. Her eyes drifted shut as more memories of Brody assaulted her again. For the past two nights, she’d dreamed of him, of feeling his thick length moving inside her with determined and purposeful thrusts. The man knew what he was doing and how to please a woman. He knew all the right spots to touch and kiss her. He knew just the right speed to move his hips, so that she didn’t know which way was up.

Elisa feared Brody McDermott had ruined her for any other man.

Did he feel the same way about her? Trying to read him was like trying to read a poker player. Maybe she’d been completely wrong about thinking he loved her. Could she possibly be that way off base?