Page 20 of Dimitri
"She taught us, Alexei and me."
"She would." He turned his gaze to the younger man. "You have the shape of her eyes."
Dimitri gave him a startled look. "I have nothing of her, much to my regret."
"You have the shape of her eyes," his grandfather repeated. "And the dimple right next to your left cheek. It's faint, but it's there. And you have her heart." He placed a hand over his and stared at the contrast. Dimitri's was large and elegant. He had developed a few calluses since he arrived and started on the farm, but the aristocratic bearing was unmistakable.
While his skin color was pale, Dimitri's was a healthy tan. Gripping his hand, Alvin heaved a sigh. The trip down memory lane had cost him. The sadness was lodged inside his chest and refused to budge.
But he was not going to allow it to spill over. The boy did not need the burden. He usually bore his grief in private, but for some reason, it wanted to get away from him.
Picking up his cup, he sipped his tea and continued to look out the window.
"I think I will lie down for a bit." Putting the cup on the tray, he rose a little unsteadily. "Tell your dragon of a grandmother that I've folded under the pressure and will be spending the day in bed."
Chapter 6
He paced himself. Instead of staking out her place that Sunday afternoon, he forced himself to wait. And decided to beard the dragon in her own den. The courthouse. He had searched the internet and knew she had a case at court. Defending a young boy who was being abused by his mother.
Now he was here at the back of the dreary courtroom, watching her at work. She was magnificent, he thought proudly. For the last couple of days, he had tried to convince himself that what he had seen of her, the way she had felt and the feelings she brought out inside him was a fluke. But he saw now it was not. She was wearing a tailored suit, the color of ripe peaches, with a thin black sweater inside. Her thick coils were tamed in a loose style at the back of her neck. Colored stones shone in her lobes, with silver hoops swinging against her cheeks.
And by God, she was enthusiastic and so convincing. She faced the judge squarely, face calm and serene. No one looking at her would think she was such a little thing. There was the light of battle in her eyes as she fought for her charge.
"Your honor, if it pleases the court, I would like to provide evidence to support my argument." She turned and pointed at the young boy who was cowering in his seat. "Simon Black has been abused as recently as yesterday. The bruises are still fresh. His mother would have you believe that he fell out of bed. That's a lie. She put those bruises on his face herself. He's afraid of her and placing him back in that home with her wouldbe a grave mistake." She turned back to the judge, ignoring the wrath emanating from the mother. "I know it's not the practice of the courts to take a child away from his mother, but these are exigent circumstances and in this case, a child is at risk. Broken ribs, lacerations, split lips, countless trips to the ER in the last few months is enough to justify handing the boy over to his uncle." She turned to face a clean-shaven man dressed in a shabby coat. "Justin has a steady job and a neat and tidy apartment. It is my--"
She stuttered to a stop as her eyes swept to the back of the room and saw him sitting there. He looked so out of place from the usual throng sitting in the courtroom that it was no wonder he stood out.
And he was smiling at her. Damn him to hell for interrupting her chain of thought and looking so deliciously hot. His hair was windswept, and the midnight blue sweater was clinging to his broad shoulders.
"Counselor? Ms. Trent!" She jumped reflexively as the judge's booming voice got through the fog that had covered her brain. Tearing her eyes away from him, she faced the man with an apologetic smile.
"I apologize your honor."
"Continue." Judge Patterson waved a wrinkled hand.
Clearing her throat, she studiously avoided looking at him and continued her argument. "I beg your honor's prudence and wisdom in this situation. Mrs. Black is on drugs and is in no position to take care of her son. Place him--"
"Liar!" The scream echoed around the courtroom. "You lying cunt! I love my son--"
"Did love place those bruises on his face?" She turned to face the woman who had risen to her feet. "Sent him to the hospital so many times? You had him starving for days, left him alone in that cold apartment while you go out to get your fix."
"You bitch!"
"Control your client." The gavel went to work as the judge tried for order in the chaos. "Or I'm going to hold her in contempt--"
"Bitch! I'll kill you." Before the security could grab her, she had scaled the barrier and was knocking back Allison. She could have taken her, after all, she was trained in martial arts, but she stood there and took the slap in the face, wincing at the score of nails on her cheek.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Dimitri Petrov rushing towards the front, an icy look on his handsome face. There was no telling what he would have done, if the court security had not cornered the woman and dragged her away.
"Order!" The gavel banged. "Order."
"Remove that woman from the courtroom and put her in a cell." His light blue eyes swept over the excited observers. "We will reconvene first thing in the morning. Court's dismissed. Counselor, you're bleeding. I suggest you get those scratches attended to."
"I will, your honor." She turned and almost bumped into a solid immovable frame.
"Get--"
The rest of the words were swallowed as she stared at the fury on his face. Clamping a hand on her arm, he practically dragged her out of the room, towards the elevator. Tight lipped, he jabbed the button and pulled her in.
