Sweet Love by Ann Christopher

Author:Ann Christopher [Christopher, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blue Iris Press

* * *

Dara got to the still-dark office in the morning, at about seven-thirty, having slept for a scant three hours. She’d cried and cried, more tears than she’d shed in her entire life, until exhaustion made her numb. She’d passed two nights with little sleep, and she had more long, sleepless nights—weeks—ahead of her, what with trial prep immediately followed by finals. She hoped she’d make it.

Some of the lights were on and she could smell coffee, which meant that Mike was already there. Steeling herself to face him, she’d just slipped off her jacket when she heard a key in the door. Turning, she saw Jamal come in.

“Hey, Dara.”

“Good morning.”

She moved toward the steps, but something in her voice made Jamal swing around, catch her arm and take a good look at her face.

“What the—? What’s happened to you?”

Bristling, she raised her chin. She looked a little tired, sure, and her eyes were a little puffy, her nose a little red. But Jamal stared at her like she was death warmed over, which she definitely was not. She pulled free.

“I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” he said, catching her arm again. “What’s going—”

They heard footsteps and turned to see Mike, in his shirtsleeves, emerge from the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. Dara tensed. He came to within five feet of them and stopped, staring at Dara with glinting amber eyes ringed by dark circles. His slashing cheekbones and jaw line stood out more starkly than usual, pulsing, and she realized he must be clenching his back teeth together. His sensual lips were set in a tight, cruel line and his posture and shoulders were rigid.

Their gazes locked and she flinched helplessly before his open show of hostility. From a great distance, she was aware of Jamal looking back and forth between them.

After a long, volatile moment, Mike started walking again, edging by them and taking all the air in the room with him.

“Jamal, I need you in my office,” he said, not bothering to look over his shoulder.

Jamal and Dara stared after him, then at each other. At the look of horrified pity on Jamal’s face, Dara quickly turned away, embarrassed.

“Dara,” Jamal began, reaching for her.

She quickly put her arms up, holding him at bay. The last thing she needed now was pity. If he gave her a sympathetic shoulder to cry on, they’d be standing there all day.

“I’m okay,” she lied, running up the stairs to her office, where she planned to hide until the client arrived for more trial prep.

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