Legal Desire. Lisa Childs

then few people—besides the media—were. Reporters waited impatiently for the next press release she issued. They were always happy to see her because they knew she delivered the dirt.

      “They’re all in Trev’s office,” Miguel told her as he jerked a thumb in that direction.

      So apparently, the partners of Street Legal were waiting impatiently for her, as well. Because the summons had been last-minute, she’d had to move some other appointments around, and Edward, her assistant, had been no help with that. He’d claimed he had a migraine and disappeared into the men’s room, leaving her to make all the calls herself.

      She really needed a new assistant. Maybe she should ask Miguel if he had a friend who might be interested in the position. She could use someone less welcoming than Edward. He tended to talk too much to clients and to the press.

      She nodded in acknowledgment and headed down the hall that led to Trevor Sinclair’s office. Excitement quickened her pulse with each click of her heels against the hardwood. She wasn’t excited to see him, though. She was just excited because he must have finally taken on a new case.

      And of all the partners, his cases were the easiest for which to advocate. Unfortunately, he was not the easiest of the partners for her to be around; he was the one who made her constantly remind herself that she did not like and could not trust lawyers.

      When she arrived at the open door to his office, she found them all looking at her the same way, as if they did not like and could not trust her. She shivered at the coldness in their gazes.

      Miguel must have alerted Trevor to her arrival. He was the one standing at the door, holding it open for her. He was also the first to shield that initial cold glance and replace it with a grin.

      The grin unsettled her more than the coldness and not just because it made him, with his dark auburn hair and deep green eyes, look even more handsome. It unsettled her because her mother had always delivered her most vicious insults with a smile.

      Maybe the partners hadn’t called her here to take on a new assignment. Maybe they’d called her here to inform her there would be no new assignments for her at Street Legal.

      For the past few months they’d been using her firm less and less even though they’d probably needed her services more. They’d had some bad press after one of them had been reported to the bar association. Word had also gotten out that they had been representing lying clients.

      She could have turned that bad press around for them. But they’d been reluctant to involve her and hadn’t even really explained what had happened.

      What was going on at Street Legal?

      And why did she feel as if it was going to affect her as well now?

      “Come in,” Trevor Sinclair urged her.

      She hadn’t even realized she’d hesitated in the hallway. But if she stepped inside that room, the odds were not in her favor. There were four of them and only one of her. Maybe she should have let Edward come along as he’d begged at the last moment. But she’d reminded him of his “migraine” and told him to take it easy the rest of the morning. Not that Edward would have been any help to her in this situation.

      These four alpha dogs would have eaten him alive had he tried to come to her defense. Not that Allison needed defending from anyone.

      She’d learned young to be able to take care of herself. And if they fired her, she would be fine. She had other clients.

      But she felt a curious pang in her heart over the thought of losing them. Maybe it was just pride. But then she stepped closer to Trevor Sinclair, and her breath stuck in her lungs at his size and his handsomeness.

      And she knew that it wasn’t just pride that caused that pang.

      Allison McCann stepped forward as if she was facing a firing squad. Her willowy body was tense, her delicate shoulders pulled back and stiff. As she neared him, Trev caught a flicker of something pass through her pale blue eyes. The guys claimed she had no emotions, but he’d seen something.

      Fear?

      Regret?

      Guilt?

      Guilt would have made the most sense—if she had a conscience. But if she had no emotions, she certainly had no conscience, either.

      Then she stepped closer to him as she passed through the door he’d been holding open for her. And her hair brushed across his throat. The scent of it—like cool rain—filled his senses while the silky touch of it had his skin tingling. He dragged in a deep breath, and she filled his head.

      She was so damn beautiful with her eerily pale blue eyes and deep red hair. She had to be at least half-Irish—like he was—with that hair. It was too rich a color to be dyed, richer even than his, which was more brown than red. Like her eyes, her skin was pale, too, and flawless like porcelain. She didn’t even seem real. She looked like one of those dolls people didn’t dare touch.

      His mother had had a doll like that, one she’d never taken out of the box because she hadn’t wanted to devalue it. It was the only thing she’d taken with her when she’d left New York City for the brighter lights of Hollywood. That doll had had red hair and porcelain skin just like Allison’s.

      He expelled the breath he hadn’t even realized he’d still been holding. That breath stirred her hair, and she shivered. As cold as she seemed, he would’ve thought she was immune to it. But then his breath would have been hot—not cold.

      Trev was hot-blooded and hotheaded. So maybe it was good that he’d had the weekend to cool off, or he wouldn’t have been able to hide his anger from her.

      She glanced up at him, those pale eyes narrowed with suspicion. So maybe he wasn’t doing as good a job hiding his emotions—or his attraction to her—as he’d thought. But then she passed him and approached the conference table near the windows of his office.

      His partners stood and not particularly out of manners because a lady had entered the room. Stone and Ronan probably didn’t trust themselves to be anywhere near her after what Trev had told them.

      The only one of them who truly possessed manners was their managing partner. They were so ingrained in Simon, like his charm, that he held out a chair for her. As she sat down, he said, “We’ll leave you two to your meeting now.”

      And Allison’s brow furrowed slightly.

      Ronan didn’t even look at her as he passed around the other side of the conference table. He was not good at hiding his emotions. His body fairly vibrated with anger. As he passed Trev on his way out the door, he murmured, “I hope you know what the hell you’re doing.”

      He wasn’t certain that he did. But he forced himself to grin like he had it all under control.

      Stone slapped his shoulder as he passed him. Trev wasn’t sure if the slap was encouragement or recrimination, but he nodded at him.

      Simon was the one who paused the longest in the doorway and stared up at Trev. He emitted a heavy sigh and murmured, “I don’t know how I didn’t see it.”

      And it was killing him that he hadn’t, especially now that it was so obvious.

      She had to be the mole.

      Knowing it wasn’t enough—they needed to be able to prove it. And Trev had taken it upon himself to do that using whatever means necessary.

      “Good luck,” Simon said as he stepped out the door and closed it for Trev.

      Allison rose from the chair in which Simon had seated her and pivoted on one high heel, her navy blue dress billowing out around her long, slender legs as she turned toward him. She must not have liked having her back to him.

      Trev could relate. As a kid living on the streets, he’d known to always keep his back to the wall, so nobody could sneak up on him.

      Somehow Allison McCann had managed to sneak up on all of them. How had