Sex and Lies. Donna Hill

      

      Sex and Lies

      Donna Hill

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      To all my readers who have been so supportive

       over the years. I thank each and every one of you

       from the bottom of my heart.

      Donna Hill

      Contents

       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

       Chapter 21

       Chapter 22

       Chapter 23

       Chapter 24

       Chapter 25

       Chapter 26

       Chapter 27

       Chapter 28

       Epilogue

       Chapter 1

       T onight would change her life. She knew it. Anticipation tingled in Savannah’s veins. Had anyone asked her years earlier if she would ever be able to lead a double life, lie to family, friends and her husband about what she did in her spare time, she would have laughed in their faces. She spun her office chair away from her computer screen toward the ringing multiline phone.

      “Billings and Tate, Attorneys-at-Law, Savannah Fields speaking.”

      “Hi, sweetheart,” came the always chirpy voice.

      “Hey, Mom.” Savannah noticed the flashing blip on her computer screen from the corner of her eye, indicating a new e-mail. “What’s up?” she asked as she opened the e-mail and read the note from her boss, Richard Billings. He needed a case file pulled to prepare for court. Savannah switched the call to her headset and walked to the file cabinet.

      “I just wanted to remind you about the meeting tonight.”

      “I’ll be there. I told Blake we were having our monthly pep meeting.”

      Mother and daughter chuckled.

      “If Blake only knew what TLC really was,” Claudia said.

      “He’d have a fit.” Savannah imagined the expression of appalled disbelief on her husband’s face.

      To the casual observer Savannah Fields was a highly paid paralegal for a small but busy corporate law firm in midtown Manhattan and married to Blake Fields, the very sexy architect and builder of upscale apartment complexes and office buildings. They lived a solid, upper-class lifestyle and enjoyed all of its perks. But Savannah, her mother and two dozen more New York women had a life that not even their closest friends would ever suspect.

      “Well, tonight is important so try to get there early. I don’t want you to miss out on anything and I want a good seat.”

      Savannah flipped through the files until she located the one she was looking for, then pushed the metal drawer shut. “You want me to pick you up?”

      “No, I’ll take my car.”

      “See you later, Mom, and no speeding,” she warned. Claudia Martin was notorious for her lead foot.

      Claudia scoffed at the reprimand. “I’ll try.”

      “If you get there before I do, save me a seat. Gotta go. Love you.” She smacked kisses into the phone before disconnecting the call.

      “Savannah…”

      She looked up into the deep-set green eyes of her boss, who was a dead ringer for an older version of the actor Keanu Reeves.

      “Hey, Richard. I have that file for you.” She reached for it on her desk and handed it over.

      “Thanks. Look, I know this is short notice but I’m going to need you to stay a little longer tonight.”

      Her stomach knotted. “Tonight!” Her normally even timbre rose two octaves as she jerked her neck to the side.

      Richard held up his hands and inadvertently took a step back. His friend and business partner Jack Tate had just been talking about a book by playwright and actor Tyler Perry— Don’t Make a Black Woman Take Off Her Earrings. He might not be up on all the black vernacular, but he got the sense that if Savannah took off her earrings at this precise moment he was in trouble.

      “You know you will be paid well for the time. But I really need your help preparing for Monday.”

      Savannah pursed her lips and folded her arms beneath her C-cup breasts.

      “Richard,” she said, assuming her mother tone, “how many times have we been through this?” She pinched her lips and titled her head to the side.

      Richard’s hopeful expression turned sheepish. “I—”

      She threw up her hand, palm facing Richard. “Don’t answer. It was a rhetorical question. You can’t keep waiting until the last minute. I know you’re a brilliant attorney, which I hope to aspire to one day. But in the meantime I have a life, which begins promptly at 5:01 p.m.” Her right brow rose to emphasize her point.

      Richard took the well-deserved tongue lashing. They’d had this conversation at least once every couple of months for the past five years that they’d worked together. Savannah would chew him out, he took it and eventually she would help him out.

      Any other time her “Richard traumas,” which she’d dubbed these episodes, wouldn’t be more than a minor annoyance, but today was different. However, she also knew that no matter what, Richard never asked her to do anything if he didn’t really need her help—which was a lot.

      Savannah blew out a breath. It was going to be a long night, but she could swing it.

      “Fine,” she conceded as they both knew she would. “But I’m warning you, I’m leaving at 7:00 p.m. sharp. And if you’re not done then you explain to your client why he’s going