The Donovans: Pleasured By A Donovan Part 10

He didn't speak at all and the quiet of the room seemed to engulf them.

"Are you involved in this somehow, Ben? Before I say or do another thing where you're concerned, I need to know," she told him in a voice that to her ears sounded quiet, still.

"What I know could get a lot of people in a lot of trouble, myself included. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Dammit!" she swore and despised herself just a little more at this point. Not only had she ignored her brain and followed her body into his bed, now she was putting herself in the direct position to become an accessory to heaven knows.

"I haven't broken any laws, if that's what you're thinking. But I do have information that could be detrimental to a lot of people. I'm just trying to do the right thing, in the right way. I'm asking for your help."

He'd come to stand right in front of her by now. She didn't know exactly when he'd moved or why she hadn't backed up or did something to get away from him. But now it was too late. He was standing there, his arms were extending, his palms cupping her face.

"I need your help, Victoria. And in return I will keep you safe. I won't let Vega touch you," he whispered.

"I don't know how I can help you when I don't know what you're hiding. And I'm not afraid of Vega."

"I don't want you to be afraid of him, Victoria. I want you to trust me," he told her earnestly.

He pulled her closer and when she thought he would have kissed her, he didn't. He touched his forehead to hers, holding them together as if the possibility of them separating was too painful to comprehend.

CHAPTER 13.

"Are you out of your mind fraternizing with the enemy?" Jules came screaming into Victoria's office about twenty minutes after she'd arrived at work.

"Excuse me?" she'd said, setting down the pen she'd been writing with and letting her hands fall flat on her desk.

His tie was crocked and hanging around his neck more like a noose than an accessory. Sweat peppered his brow and his cheeks were ruby red. She'd seen him fl.u.s.tered during and after his trials before, but nothing like this. Still, she remained calm, or she gave the impression that she was remaining calm.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing having lunch with Donovan? This d.a.m.n picture is all over the papers. Do you see the headline?" he asked as he tossed the folded newspaper onto her desk.

DEFENSE AND PROSECUTION TEAM UP FOR A SECOND SHOT.

AT ALLEGED MURDERER.

c.r.a.p!

"It was just lunch," she replied stoically. "I am allowed to have lunch."

"Not with defense counsel from the biggest case in this office at the moment," Jules yelled back.

"He doesn't represent Vega anymore."

"Right, that's what the record says. But how do you think this looks? How do you think this makes our office look? No answer? I'll tell you. It makes us look like a bunch of incompetent jacka.s.ses, running around grasping at straws to try and get this guy locked up for good! And I don't like it. I don't like it at all!"

"Are you finished?" she asked, still using the calm voice that he couldn't tell was about to break. "Because if you are, I'd like to address this situation from my point of view."

Jules didn't say anything, just waved a hand in her general direction. An action she considered rude, as rude as his yelling and this entire out-of-control rant he had going on.

"How I try this case will depend on the evidence and witnesses I have to work with. I do not now, nor have I ever relied on help from outside counsel to do my job. If you think I'm not doing my job accordingly, file a report and have me removed from the case. But do not come in here questioning my integrity again."

Jules was her immediate supervisor and wanted to run for DA. And if that depended on her vote, he was most likely never going to sit in that office. Victoria loved her job and she did it well. What she would not do is be disrespected in the process. If that meant she would lose the job she loved, then so be it.

He'd stopped pacing and stood right in front of her desk, flattening his palms over the files she had and leaning forward so that he was closer to her face. "What did you talk about at lunch? What did he say to you and how long have you two been seeing each other?"

Did he not just hear what she'd said?

"What I do on my personal time is none of your business," she replied coolly.

"You little b.i.t.c.h! Do you know how important this case is? Do you know what's at stake here?"

He was visibly shaking now, the sweat that had been just beads now running in rivulets down his cheek. He looked like he was about to have a heart attack right there in front of her.

"I'm going to ask you to leave my office." She was so angry she shook on the inside.

Jules looked like he was about to say something else but Victoria stood, putting her hand in his face to stop him. "I'm only going to ask you that one time. Next I'm going to call security and file a formal complaint against you for verbal a.s.sault. Now. Get. Out!"

Jules s.n.a.t.c.hed his hand away from her desk, pulling the files and their contents with him to fall in the floor.

"If you mess this up, I swear I'll hunt you down! I'll hunt you and I'll-"

"You'll what?" she inquired. "Say it right here, right now so I can call the police."

"Just wrap this case up and get the conviction!" he yelled, finally pus.h.i.+ng the door back so hard the k.n.o.b went straight through the cheap drywall that separated one office from the other.

When she sank back into her chair, the inner shaking had broken through. Her hands shook and her heart hammered. Not out of fear but out of fury. She'd wanted to wrap her hands around Jules' fat neck for the way he dared to speak to her. Her temples began a dull throb as she realized she wanted desperately to do something else. She wanted to call and tell Ben what had just happened.

"You can't ignore my calls if I'm standing in your face," Alma Donovan said about five minutes after she walked into Ben's office.

Ben had been reviewing the statement of charges for one of his drug clients and had vaguely heard the bell to the front door chime. His office building was secure: Everyone had to sign in and show identification at the front door before the guards would call upstairs to let him know who was there to see him. He hadn't received a call, and had been so focused on his work he had barely realized someone had come into the office. Considering the current circ.u.mstances, he should have been on higher alert, but he also knew that there was a plainclothes guard standing right outside of his office door as well as Devlin, who was no doubt close by. The guy really was like a shadow, one you never saw until you absolutely needed him. Both of them would have seen his mother and not bothered to stop her entrance.

Alma Donovan wore one of her signature business suits, this one in a pale pink color, the jacket with short sleeves and the skirt with some type of flourish at her knees. Under her right arm she clutched a leather purse in a pearl white color that matched her shoes and the pearl choker at her neck. She looked like a professional, which she was since she was the president of not one but two non-profit companies.

"Hi Mom," was his reply to whatever she'd just said to him. She was standing at the end of his desk with one hand on her hip giving him that glare that said, "You are so in trouble".

"Don't 'Hi Mom' me," she started by slapping her purse onto the end of his desk and yanking one of the guest chairs closer so she could sit. "I've been calling you and calling you since I saw the paper this morning and haven't received an answer yet. Not even a response to my text messages. And that's just rude Benjamin. One hundred percent rude to not respond when there's no real reason why you cannot."

"I'm working, Mom. I have cases to try, clients to represent," he told her, knowing full well that excuse wasn't going to fly with her. "And actually, I have an appointment in a half hour." Ben looked at his watch, then back up to his mother.

He loved her dearly, had never met another woman like her. And lying to her went against everything he'd ever believed in, but if she asked him about that Vega case he couldn't tell her what was really going on. Ben didn't have any idea how she could have found out since only Trent and Max knew. But both of them were married and could have easily told their wives under that full disclosure rule that came with the marriage vows. One of the woman would have definitely wanted to tell Alma.

"Then you have thirty minutes to tell me exactly what's going on between you and that pretty little prosecutor you had lunch with yesterday."

She spoke so matter-of-factly Ben had to do a double-take before getting the full jist of what she'd said.

"How did you know I had lunch with Victoria Lashley?" he asked, giving her his full attention now.

"Everybody in town knows that was a perfect picture of the two of you smiling at lunch. I told your father we should frame it since we never see you with your females."

Ben didn't mean to be rude, but his fingers moved quickly over his keyboard as he pulled up the local newspaper and searched for the picture his mother referred to and...dammit!

He'd thought he'd held that curse in as he slammed back in his chair. But the way Alma's eyebrows raised, her lips stilling, said he'd mumbled it aloud.

"Sorry," he said.

"I take it you didn't want people to know you were dating her. I can see that since she's prosecuting that case you just finished with. But listen son, the heart does not take politics or any of these other prejudicial things in mind. It wants who it wants and there's not a whole lot you can do about changing that."

"We were just having lunch, Mom. We were discussing our work. It wasn't really a date," he told her and felt good about that being basically the truth.

"You could probably make other people believe that, Benjamin, but not me. A mother knows these things." She paused then, watching him as if he didn't need to say a word for her to know exactly what he was thinking and feeling.

"But you already know how you feel about her. You know but you're not sure about her feelings. Is that it?" she asked.

Ben looked down at his mother's hands, clasped neatly in her lap, the sparkling diamond wedding ring set on the left hand and a jewel encrusted anniversary ban on the right. Those had been symbols of his father's love for his mother, but Ben knew Everette and Alma's love went much deeper than jewelry. Just as he'd watched his Aunt Beverly and Uncle Henry show how much they loved and respected each other by staying in a healthy relations.h.i.+p and keeping their family close. His cousins had wives, loved unconditionally, protected with a fierceness Ben hadn't felt before. So his mother was absolutely correct, he knew how he felt about Victoria, had known for quite some time now.

"We met in law school," he began. "She's still too hung up on the Donovan reputation to see what a great catch I am," he finished with a smile that had his mother responding likewise.

"She looks like a really smart girl. I'm sure she'll come around."

"I hope so," he replied, still leaning on the honesty fence. "But we both have work and that's a little distracting right now."

Alma nodded. "You got out of that case just in time. That man's no good."

"I know. I'm thinking now I should have never agreed to represent him in the first place."

"No," Alma shook her head adamantly. "Don't do that. The past is in the past for a reason. It's over and done with, regrets are a waste of time. You did your job and you'll continue to do your job."

Ben leaned forward, let his elbows rest on his desk, his fingers a steeple at his chin. "But what if the job I'm doing is all wrong? What if I shouldn't be helping criminals get off?"

"When you first came to us and told us what you planned to do with your law degree, your father and I asked you if you were sure. You said you were sure, that you wanted to be one of the people who gave hope to the hopeless, who helped those others thought were helpless. And that's what you do, Ben. You give people what they're legally ent.i.tled to in this country, a right to a fair trial and unbiased legal representation."

"But at what cost?"

"Only at the cost you burden yourself with. If you don't do this job, someone else will. Someone who's not as good and not as honest as you are. Is that what you want?"

"I want to feel good about what I do and the people I'm helping. Ramone Vega is not someone I can say that about."

"Not everybody's guilty," Alma replied with a knowing smile.

Ben grinned. "Man, I must have been some kind of advocate for defense attorneys. I remember saying that too."

"You're an advocate because you believe in what you do. Don't let one bad apple dissuade you from your calling. And don't let circ.u.mstances keep you from the woman you love."

Hours after his mother had left the office, Ben was still thinking about her words. For all that he and probably any grown-up hated to admit that their parents were right, Alma normally was. Today had been no different. Ben wasn't quitting his job; he just wasn't going to represent sc.u.m like Ramone Vega anymore and let said sc.u.m keep him from doing what he knew was right.

With that in mind, he picked up the phone and made one of the toughest calls of his career.

CHAPTER 14.

The text had come about five minutes before Victoria pulled to stop in the parking spot in front of her house. It had been an extremely long day and she'd worked extra hours in the hopes of preparing herself for next week's trial, all while still fuming at the audacity of Jules and the way he'd spoken to her.

She was tired and hungry and not really looking forward to at least two more hours of reading, writing and preparing. But Ben was sitting on her front steps, a bunch of colorful balloons tied to her railing. Victoria grabbed her briefcase and climbed out of the car, pressing the alarm b.u.t.ton on her keychain to lock all the doors and enable the alarm.

Walking up the walkway without smiling was difficult. He looked like a delivery guy, dressed in faded blue jeans and a fitted black t-s.h.i.+rt, motorcycle helmet painted in bright red, black and silver between his legs. His beard was thin and freshly trimmed, casting a dark and dangerous look to his facial features. Then again, she'd never seen a delivery guy with a diamond encrusted Cartier watch on one wrist and a top of the line racing bike as his mode of transportation.

"Working late?" he said as she came closer to the steps.

She lifted her briefcase and sighed. "Upcoming trial."

He nodded knowingly. "Got time for a break?"

"Not really," was her instant reply. "You on your way to a birthday party?"

He smiled and stood up, his entire six plus feet towering over her even more as he stood two steps above her.

"I thought they looked more cheerful than flowers," he told her while untying the balloon bouquet from the railing. "Do you like them?"

Victoria couldn't help but smile when he thrust all the balloons right in her face. "I like them alright," she commented while swatting them away. "But I'd like to get into the house so I can put my bags down."

"Here, let's do an exchange," he offered.

Ben stepped down, taking her briefcase and her purse and giving her the strings tied together that kept the balloons from taking a sky ride. Victoria was still smiling as she moved up the steps and unlocked her door.

"By the way, I forgot to thank you for having my window fixed," she told him when they'd both walked inside and closed the door behind them.

She let the balloons go and they all disbursed, heading right to the ceiling, blues, greens, yellows and reds floating in a happy circle around her living room.

"No problem. I wanted to install a security system on the house but I wasn't sure if you were a homeowner or not."

Victoria didn't believe him for one second. If Ben knew about the incident with the window in the first place, before she'd even been taken to the hospital, and knew enough to get it fixed without her consent, she was sure he knew that she was only renting this house.

"Right. Well, thank you for not doing that. I'd like to make that choice on my own," she told him anyway.

He nodded, placing her bags down by the entryway into the living room. "So why don't you go up and slip into something comfortable and come for a ride with me?"

"A ride?" she asked startled. "With you? On your bike?"