Diana turned her attention back to the window. Henri's was a noisy little hole in the wall. Aunt Adelaide would have starved before she stepped over the threshold. Diana loved it and always made a point of slipping away for an hour or two when she was in Paris to enjoy a meal and the company. Strange that it would also be a favourite of Caine MacGregor's. "Do you get to Paris often?"
"No, not anymore."
"My aunt will be living there now. I've been helping her settle into her apartment."
"You're living in Boston. What part?"
"I've just moved into a house on Charles Street."
"The inevitable small world," Caine murmured. "It seems we're neighbours. What do you do in Boston?"
Flicking back the hair that fell across her cheek, Diana turned to study him. "The same thing you do." Caine lifted a brow as he twisted his head to look back at her. "You remember Professor Whiteman, I'm sure," she continued. "He speaks very highly of you."
Caine's grin was quick and off centre. "Do the students still call him Bones behind his back?"
"Of course."
With a laugh, Caine shook his head. "So, Harvard Law. It appears we have more in common than we bargained for. Family, alma mater, career. Are you practicing?"
"I'm with Barclay, Stevens and Fitz."
"Mmm, very prestigious." He shot her a look. "And staid."
For the first time, Diana's features relaxed into a smile. It was both wry and stunning. "I get all the fascinating cases. Just last week I represented a councilman's son who has a habit of ignoring the posted speed limit."
"You can work your way up in fifteen or twenty years."
"I've other plans," Diana murmured. By the time she was thirty, she calculated, she'd be ready for the break. After four years with a respected, conservative firm, she'd have the experience and the backing necessary to start her own practice. A small, elegant office, a competent secretary and then…
"Which are?"
She brought herself back to the present. She wasn't a woman to lay all her cards on the table. "I want to specialize in criminal law," she said simply.
"Why?"
"A thirst for justice, human rights." Laughing, she swung her face back to his. "And I love a good fight."
Caine acknowledged this with a thoughtful nod. Perhaps she wasn't as polished and proper as the trim suit indicated. He should have gotten a hint of who she was from her choice of scent. "Are you any good?"
"A second-year law student could handle what I'm doing at the moment." Her chin angled as she rested her elbow on the back of the seat. "I'm much better than that… and I intend to be the best."
"An admirable ambition," Caine commented as he swung off the Strip toward the Comanche. "I've already earmarked that spot for myself."
Diana gave him a long, cool look. "We'll have to see who gets there first, won't we?"
For an answer, Caine only smiled. Diana thought she could see something of the demon in him now, a hint of that volatile, dangerous energy that had already propelled him far up the ladder. Without speaking, she stepped out of her side of the car. She wasn't intimidated by wolfish grins or challenging eyes. If there was one area where Diana was completely confident, it was law. Caine MacGregor would be hearing her name over the years, she was certain. He'd remember what she'd said.
"Ms. Blade's bags are in the trunk," Caine told the doorman as he handed over a folded bill and his keys. "I'm sure Rena'd like to see you right away," he went on as he took Diana's arm again. "Unless you'd rather go to your own rooms first."
"No." Rena, not Justin, she noticed. She felt the quick jumpiness in her stomach again and struggled to ignore it.
"Good. Then we'll go right up."
"So…" Diana glanced around, taking in the understated elegance of the lobby. "This is Justin's."
"He only owns half of this Comanche," Caine corrected as they stepped into the elevator. "Rena bought in as a full partner late last summer."
"I see. Is that how they met?"
"No." When he laughed, she turned
"No, not anymore."
"My aunt will be living there now. I've been helping her settle into her apartment."
"You're living in Boston. What part?"
"I've just moved into a house on Charles Street."
"The inevitable small world," Caine murmured. "It seems we're neighbours. What do you do in Boston?"
Flicking back the hair that fell across her cheek, Diana turned to study him. "The same thing you do." Caine lifted a brow as he twisted his head to look back at her. "You remember Professor Whiteman, I'm sure," she continued. "He speaks very highly of you."
Caine's grin was quick and off centre. "Do the students still call him Bones behind his back?"
"Of course."
With a laugh, Caine shook his head. "So, Harvard Law. It appears we have more in common than we bargained for. Family, alma mater, career. Are you practicing?"
"I'm with Barclay, Stevens and Fitz."
"Mmm, very prestigious." He shot her a look. "And staid."
For the first time, Diana's features relaxed into a smile. It was both wry and stunning. "I get all the fascinating cases. Just last week I represented a councilman's son who has a habit of ignoring the posted speed limit."
"You can work your way up in fifteen or twenty years."
"I've other plans," Diana murmured. By the time she was thirty, she calculated, she'd be ready for the break. After four years with a respected, conservative firm, she'd have the experience and the backing necessary to start her own practice. A small, elegant office, a competent secretary and then…
"Which are?"
She brought herself back to the present. She wasn't a woman to lay all her cards on the table. "I want to specialize in criminal law," she said simply.
"Why?"
"A thirst for justice, human rights." Laughing, she swung her face back to his. "And I love a good fight."
Caine acknowledged this with a thoughtful nod. Perhaps she wasn't as polished and proper as the trim suit indicated. He should have gotten a hint of who she was from her choice of scent. "Are you any good?"
"A second-year law student could handle what I'm doing at the moment." Her chin angled as she rested her elbow on the back of the seat. "I'm much better than that… and I intend to be the best."
"An admirable ambition," Caine commented as he swung off the Strip toward the Comanche. "I've already earmarked that spot for myself."
Diana gave him a long, cool look. "We'll have to see who gets there first, won't we?"
For an answer, Caine only smiled. Diana thought she could see something of the demon in him now, a hint of that volatile, dangerous energy that had already propelled him far up the ladder. Without speaking, she stepped out of her side of the car. She wasn't intimidated by wolfish grins or challenging eyes. If there was one area where Diana was completely confident, it was law. Caine MacGregor would be hearing her name over the years, she was certain. He'd remember what she'd said.
"Ms. Blade's bags are in the trunk," Caine told the doorman as he handed over a folded bill and his keys. "I'm sure Rena'd like to see you right away," he went on as he took Diana's arm again. "Unless you'd rather go to your own rooms first."
"No." Rena, not Justin, she noticed. She felt the quick jumpiness in her stomach again and struggled to ignore it.
"Good. Then we'll go right up."
"So…" Diana glanced around, taking in the understated elegance of the lobby. "This is Justin's."
"He only owns half of this Comanche," Caine corrected as they stepped into the elevator. "Rena bought in as a full partner late last summer."
"I see. Is that how they met?"
"No." When he laughed, she turned
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