Mine Tonight by Lisa Marie Perry

Author:Lisa Marie Perry
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-04-07T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

As the doors to the glass elevator at the east wing of Constant and Spencer and Associates’ Law Offices parted mutely and a seductively robotic female voice overhead announced, “Floor three,” Santino knew he wouldn’t like the reason his father’s attorneys had summoned him here.

Shortly after his brief exchange with Attorney Chuck Constant, his brother had sent him a text message and they’d deduced that the spur-of-the-moment meeting was suspicious and they’d both be there.

Exiting the elevator, he entered a lobby spacious enough to host a parade and resembled an exclusive club more than a legal firm. It made sense—the attorneys only represented high-profile clients and could afford to treat them accordingly. A six-foot water feature depicted streams flowing from Lady Justice’s scales. The polished black floor reflected the parallel rows of recessed lights that parted ways to form halos over twin reception desks. Chuck Constant had been the one to personally contact Santino, so he went to the desk that had Constant engraved into the facade. As he’d had to do to gain entry past main-floor security, he authenticated his identify on a touch-screen computer. Instead of being directed past metal detectors, he was now immediately offered baked goods from a basket and a drink of his pleasure from a double-tier cart.

“Might I recommend a daiquiri?” the woman steering the cart inquired, coming to a clean stop in front of him. She, along with the other receptionists in the lobby—a symmetrical three per desk—wore all formfitting black, except she stood out with the bite of a pink hairpin in her raked-back curls.

Magdalene Kist, her name tag declared.

Aw, hell.

They’d met before, when she’d accompanied Chuck Constant and Waylon Spencer to a dinner meeting to meet with Santino and his father. That’d been months ago, when Santino believed the Las Vegas Slayers had been forced from his father’s hands and he’d wanted to conquer heaven and hell to see it returned to Franco ownership. Actually, he and Magdalene had done more than “met.”

She’d murmured the sexiest “Pleasure to meet you” he’d ever heard when she’d enclosed his hand in both of hers for a shake. He’d liked that. Her ass had swayed in a zebra-print skirt when she’d hurried up from the table to fix his coffee on one of her boss’s directives. He’d really liked that. And in the guest services corridor, when him heading to the men’s room and her leaving the ladies’ room, she’d cut into his path and kissed him—and he’d let it happen. Only when her hand had slid from his chest down toward his crotch did he interrupt her, because her effect on him had been too weak and he’d known without going through the motions of trying to force arousal that ultimately they’d both be left unsatisfied.

Magdalene would’ve joined the parade of women who’d fantasized, tried to gratify, ached to be touched or were hungry for commitment, only to wind up pissed off when he didn’t measure up to expectation. So

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