Tall, Dark...And Framed?. Cathleen Galitz

specifics of the case. That is, if you’re still interested in representing me.”

      If she was still interested!

      Only a crazy woman would turn down an offer like this one on any level—professional or romantic—though Susan knew she had ruined any chances of the latter with her uptight reproach to a simple request for an after-hours meeting. Seb’s straightforward response had left her feeling like a complete idiot. Lord knows, she had worked around other clients’ schedules on more than one occasion.

      Susan was spared an immediate response by the timeliness of Dorian’s interruption. For a moment she had almost forgotten he was in the room with them. Clearly thrilled that his big brother was actually considering accepting his gift of her legal services, he jumped into the conversation feetfirst. “If you’d be more comfortable with me present, Ms. Wysocki, I’d be glad to be there, as well.”

      It was all Susan could do to keep from rolling her eyes. Dorian must have read the hesitancy in her body language and come to the conclusion that she was frightened of being alone with Seb. He was right, of course, but not for any of the reasons she suspected were running through his mind at the moment. For heaven’s sake, she was no shy virgin afraid of being compromised by a big bad wolf lurking in the woods. As much as she appreciated Dorian’s concern, she did not need his protection. Even though Sebastian was accused of murder, she certainly didn’t get any creepy vibes from him. If the truth were known, she suspected that more women accosted him than the other way around. Many of her own girlfriends would undoubtedly claw their way around her for the opportunity to spend an evening alone with such a man.

      What Susan was really afraid of was her own reaction to being alone with a man who, by his very presence, reminded her that beneath her professional pin-striped suit jacket beat the heart of a woman very much longing for more than business aspirations to fill the void in her life.

      “That won’t be necessary,” Seb assured Dorian with a black glare that lingered long enough for him to get the hint.

      “Oh, I forgot,” Dorian exclaimed, snapping his fingers and donning a hearty grin. “I have someplace to be tonight, too. Wouldn’t want to break the little lady’s heart by standing her up, you know.”

      Susan winced. The ploy was so patently obvious that she couldn’t help but wonder why she had ever thought Dorian subtle. Clearly he was more enamored of the prospect of pleasing Sebastian than he was of her. Not that he shouldn’t feel more allegiance to a brother than a complete stranger, she reminded herself.

      Susan wished she could rationalize away her fears as easily. Maybe Sebastian really did have a meeting at the Texas Cattleman’s Club. Maybe it really was more important than clearing his name of murder. And maybe she was imagining that predatory interest in his eyes. All Susan knew for sure was that such heavy-handed tactics were reminiscent of the way her ex-husband used to manipulate her.

      She smiled sweetly at her new client, the one who just might be the answer to her prayers if she played her cards right. Reminding herself that she was indeed a big girl and capable of separating past hurts from present opportunities, she tamped down her resentments. As long as she promised not to involve her heart in the case, there was really no reason to turn good fortune away from her doorstep.

      “What time do you want me to be there?” she asked.

      Two

      It seemed fitting that Susan arrive at Sebastian Wescott’s estate on April Fools’ Day. She felt very foolish indeed waiting for the heavy wrought-iron gates to swing open and admit her. Feeling rather as if she should be placing an order at a fast-food joint, she spoke into the intercom to announce herself. A few minutes later she was parking her late-model Taurus behind a shiny new Porsche and making her way to the front door of a truly magnificent home. For a minute there she’d been afraid a valet was going to rush out and tell her to move “that piece of junk.”

      Unlike Jack Wescott’s stone mansion, which was prominently displayed atop a hill overlooking Royal, his son’s ranch was more secluded and, Susan observed, far less ostentatious. A stately driveway wound its way through parklike acres of manicured lawns and mature trees. Redbrick privacy walls beckoned visitors to enjoy the world of the privileged, if only for a short time. Sebastian’s home itself was a country-style Georgian colonial, white with dark-green eaves, tiles and shutters. One could catch only a glimpse of the tennis courts, swimming pools and stables tucked neatly behind the spacious home. How a multimillion-dollar estate managed to exude an air of country coziness was enough to make Susan give silent praise to the architect who had designed it.

      Wiping her palms on the front of her demure navy suit, she waited for the butler to open the door. She was surprised when she was greeted by Sebastian himself, wearing a comfortable pair of blue jeans and a sweatshirt. The smile on his face did nothing to lessen the impact of his devastating good looks, which had haunted her ever since he’d stepped foot in her office earlier in the day.

      “Come on in,” Sebastian bid her with a familiarity she found somehow both engaging and unsettling.

      If only she could get her pulse rate up this easily at her weekly aerobic workouts! Feeling the need to steady herself, Susan stopped a moment to lean against the doorway and check her watch, vowing to give this heartbreaker no more than a couple of hours of her precious time before skedaddling back to the safety of her modest, decidedly middle-class apartment. As tempting as it might be to indulge in little-girl fantasies, she didn’t need to remind herself that she hadn’t been summoned to Prince Charming’s fancy ball. Nor did she intend to leave any glass slipper behind at the stroke of midnight. Undeniably, one thing marriage to Joe had taught her was to look for the tarnish on any supposed knight’s gleaming armor. That Sebastian was facing charges for a heinous crime should have been more than enough to take the shine off his armor, were it the brightest sterling silver.

      “I hope you haven’t eaten yet,” Sebastian said. “I just put steaks for two on the grill.”

      The heavenly smells wafting through the house brought back the inadequacy of Susan’s dinner to her with a swiftness that overpowered her senses. The peanut-butter sandwich she had washed down earlier with a glass of milk while poring over her law books had done little to satisfy her appetite.

      “Thank you, but I’ve already eaten,” she told him stiffly.

      It was difficult to sound convincing over the rumbling of her stomach.

      The sound caused Sebastian to quirk an eyebrow at her, but he gallantly refrained from making comment. Instead, he proceeded to lead her through the dining room at such a fast clip that Susan barely had time to appreciate the elegance of a room flanked by high-arched windows and vaulted ceilings. Grabbing an apron off the back of a white leather couch, Sebastian invited her to follow him through a set of open French doors onto the patio, where smoke was leaking around the edges of a barbecue grill. Slipping an oven mitt on one hand, he opened the lid and began attacking a couple of thick steaks with a pair of long-handled tongs.

      “Don’t worry. I have everything under control,” Sebastian hastened to assure her.

      Indeed, the man did give the appearance that nothing at all in his life was amiss. The scene had such a homey feel to it that Susan was tempted to kick off her high heels, dangle her tired feet over the side of an Olympic-size swimming pool and ask her client if he could spare a beer. As Sebastian struggled to get the steaks onto a platter and extinguish a flame that had gotten almost out of control during his absence, Susan felt a giggle gurgling up from somewhere inside her. As much as she hated to admit it, the truth was she had rather expected an envoy of well-trained servants to be waiting hand and foot on their playboy master. A man who, with a subtle gesture, would have his staff dimming the lights before vacating the premises to allow him to have his way with yet another defenseless maiden hoping to lay claim to a portion of his fortune.

      “What’s so funny?” Sebastian asked, shutting off the grill and making his way to her side.

      He set the heavy platter down on a round patio table and proceeded to adjust the sturdy yellow umbrella that shot out of its center like