Page 7 of Legal Attraction
CHAPTER THREE
LIGHTSBLAZED,BUTthat wasn’t what had sweat beading on Ronan’s brow. The heat flashing through him had nothing to do with the lights and everything to do with the woman posing beneath them.
She wore so very little on her gorgeous body—just some scraps of lace and silk and all that naturally tan skin. Desire slammed through Ronan with a force he’d never felt before. It knocked him back on his heels while making his cock rock hard.
Maybe coming here had been a bad idea.
But he wanted to come—inside her. He knew she was the only one who could relieve the unbearable tension that had been building in his body since he’d been trapped in the elevator with her a couple of nights ago.
“Muriel!” the photographer shouted at her. “You’re not giving me what I want!”
She wasn’t giving Ronan what he wanted, either—because he wanted her to untie that bow between the cups of her strapless black bra, wanted her to untie the bows on each hip that held up her panties.
But he wanted more than to see her naked. He wanted to feel her, taste her...and bury himself deep inside her.
Why the hell was he so attracted to this woman? He would have screwed her in the elevator if she hadn’t pulled away and slapped him. But she’d kissed him back before she’d done that. Was she attracted to him, too?
He was counting on it—so that he could get the truth out of her. That was really why he was here, why he’d tracked her down at her photoshoot. It wasn’t for sex.
He could get that anywhere. It wasn’t as if he wanted or needed only her. Any woman would do.
No. What he really wanted from Muriel Sanz was the truth.
Her lips curved into a slight smile. “What do you want, Lawrence?”
“Bad,” the photographer shouted back. “I need you to be bad.”
She was bad, and Ronan had proved that in court. She claimed those witnesses had been lying, though. Why would they lie? Why would they risk perjury charges? They’d had nothing to gain from their testimony.
Muriel Sanz was the liar. And Ronan intended to prove it. He just had to get her to admit to forging those memos. Could he seduce her into a confession?
Those witnesses had claimed she was addicted to sex and that was why she’d cheated on her husband. So if she was addicted to sex, maybe he could get her addicted to sex with him—so addicted that she would confess all to him.
He knew it was possible for a person to get addicted to another person. That had been his father’s downfall: his addiction to Ronan’s mother despite how badly she’d mistreated him. She’d been a lot like Muriel Sanz—beautiful and selfish and completely devoid of a conscience.
“I need you to be the badass of Bette’s Beguiling Bows,” Lawrence said.
This photo shoot was for the line of lingerie Muriel exclusively modeled. That line had been designed by her friend and Simon’s former assistant, Bette Monroe.
He had to admit that Bette had a talent for design. Her lingerie was the sexiest he’d ever seen.
Unfortunately, so was Muriel.
“Oh, I can be a badass,” she assured the photographer. But she was looking at Ronan now. He could feel her gaze on him, and his skin began to heat even more. She raised her husky voice a little more, probably making certain he would hear, and added, “I can be very, very bad...”
Ronan chuckled. She’d already started confessing...and he hadn’t even touched her yet.
The camera clicked.
She ran her fingertips down her deep cleavage to the bow between her breasts. And she toyed with the ends the way he’d toyed with the bow the other night...in the elevator.
Too bad that bow hadn’t been between her breasts, too. Then he could have touched her, like she was touching herself.
As she stroked her fingertips up and down her cleavage, she sank her teeth into her bottom lip then swiped her tongue across it.
And Ronan groaned. The photographer echoed the sound and shot a glance at him. Instead of admonishing him for trespassing on the set, the guy grinned at him. “You must be the reason for that sudden spark in her eyes,” Lawrence said. “You made her bad.”
Ronan chuckled. “Nobody made Muriel that way.” Least of all him. She’d already been bad.
