Chasing Terpsichore (Muses Across Time) Read online

  “I have a meeting with Henderson in an hour. I won’t have time to do anything until this afternoon,” he lifted his wrist to check his watch. “If at all today.”

  Susan turned away quickly, her cheeks turning a deep shade of pink. “Um, ah…” she stuttered. “I rescheduled it for tomorrow.”

  James tried to hide the twitching of his lips. She thought she was a master manipulator when it came to getting him to do things he didn’t want to do in the office. This was slightly different as she’d never asked him to represent anyone before, but he found her clumsy attempts amusing. He’d left criminal law behind when he’d chosen to follow in his father’s footsteps, but he did owe Susan a favour, considering all the extra hours she’d put in lately. And she never complained. He walked back to his desk and dropped the satchel. He might as well surrender now and save himself the trouble of dealing with a pouting secretary. “All right then. Tell me the rest.”

  It was almost worth it just to see Susan’s face light up. She was a nice-looking girl, but when she smiled, she was almost beautiful. Now he knew what his junior partner, Thomas, saw in her. Susan and Thomas had been dating for the last few weeks and James couldn’t be happier. The pressure was off him, now that Susan was over her crush on him.

  “Well, it all started when this boy grabbed her leg while she was pole dancing at King’s Cross.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  * * * *

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Susan shook her head and whispered across the table. “Now why would I kid you? James is a really good solicitor. Why don’t you want him to help you?”

  Corey looked across the room at the six foot tall hunk of conservative male skulking near the door. It was obvious that he didn’t want to be here. Susan must have told some fantastic story to drag her boss all the way up here to King’s Cross to help a stranger. But she didn’t want a solicitor who didn’t want to be here. She leaned over the table and whispered back, “He doesn’t want to help me. I can tell he’s just here because you asked him.” She nodded towards James as he spoke in hushed tones with a police officer at the door. “I really appreciate it, Susan, but I need a solicitor who has his heart in it. He doesn’t even want to be in the same room with me. Give him a break. He probably has no idea what to do for a criminal case.”

  The lanky solicitor spun around to face them, his voice cold. “I’ll have you know I’ve represented dozens of criminal cases in the past. I might practise a different type of law now, but that is by choice, not aptitude.”

  Corey threw her hands up in the air. “My point exactly. He doesn’t want to do it, Susan. Give me another name.”

  James stiffened his back, and judging by the way he was shooting some proverbial smoke out of his ears, he wanted this less than she did. “I am perfectly capable of handling your case, Miss—”

  Corey looked at him properly for the first time. Wow, what a cutie. Susan had never mentioned that her boss was so gorgeous—an uptight bastard, but gorgeous all the same. She caught a very manly, citrusy scent that must be his aftershave, and those blue eyes flashing at her really were magnificent. “It’s Miss Olympia, but you can call me Corey,” she said, as she flipped a stray curl off her forehead. “Now, James… I can call you James, can’t I?”

  His eyes widened a little, showing just a small chink in his strong facade of control. “Fine.”

  She smiled brightly, summoning all of her charm. “Good, that’s much more friendly.” Now that she had his attention, she lowered her voice, aiming for just that hint of huskiness she knew most men couldn’t resist. “James, I don’t want you to do this for me unless you believe in me.”

  The edge of his mouth twitched, betraying the barest hint of humour under that stiff composure. “Susan believes in you, Miss Olympia, and I have a lot of respect for her judgement. I agreed to help you and I intend to keep my word.”

  Her heart rate ramped up as she realised she really wanted it to be him. “Wonderful. Your overwhelming enthusiasm is appreciated.” She winked at her friend Susan, whose lips trembled as she valiantly tried not to laugh. “I suppose I’d better tell you the whole story then.”

  Corey picked up her glass of water from the table and took a sip before starting. “I didn’t do anything wrong except stop a randy teenager from pawing me.” She wiped her hand over her mouth to wipe up the excess moisture and looked up into cool blue eyes. “How would I know his father is a prominent judge?”

  “Judge?” James turned to Susan, who had slumped back in her chair with her head down. “Susan,” he snapped. “You didn’t mention anything about a judge?”

  Corey stood up and moved behind Susan, placing her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Don’t blame her—she didn’t know the full story. I forgot to mention that bit.”

  “A fairly significant part you forgot to mention. If you want my help, Corey, you had better start from the beginning.” He dragged her chair farther out from under the table and ushered her into it before placing his satchel on the floor and pulling out a legal pad and pencil.

  Corey focused on his hands as he started writing. He had beautiful hands with long, perfectly shaped fingers and neat, short nails. If not for the interesting calluses she would have called them feminine. But feminine he definitely wasn’t. Hmm… So he doesn’t spend all of his time in an office. Those hands brought to mind all sorts of things he could do to her body and she sighed.

  “Corey?” James stopped writing and started drumming his fingers on the table.

  “Huh?” Oops. Caught napping again. I’d better pay attention. “Oh, yes. Well, I dance in a high cage so no one can get to me, but this idiot kid decided he wanted to grab my leg. When I shook him off, I guess he must have been disappointed.”

  “So how exactly did you shake him off?”

  How could she put this so that it sounded plausible? She couldn’t tell him she had zapped the kid with a fire bolt. “Umm… I shook my leg until he let go?”

  Picking up the arrest report, James read a few lines before lifting his eyes. “He says in his statement he wasn’t even in the club. He states you called him over to the alleyway, propositioned him, and when he declined, you burned his hand with a cigarette.”

  Corey stood up, shoving her chair away from the table, the legs of the chair screeching across the dirty linoleum floor, and placed her hands face down on the scratched surface. “I did no such thing! If he has a cigarette burn, he must have done it himself.”

  James arched his brow. “So your story is that he grabbed your leg, you shook him off, he let go, then left the club. Is that it?”

  She walked across to the window and crossed her arms around her middle as she stared out into the courtyard below. “It’s not a story, James. That’s what happened. I never spoke to him in the alleyway. I am not a prostitute, I’m a dance teacher. Period. That rat is just trying to cover his butt for getting caught underage in a club.”

  James flipped a page on the police report and looked up again. “He says a bouncer from your club lured him into the alley from MacLeay Street. His father is threatening to sue The Cave for corrupting a minor.” He stood up and joined Corey at the window, close enough for her to smell his expensive aftershave.

  This situation was getting weirder by the minute. Some snotty-nosed kid with a god complex was trying to ruin her life because he hadn’t got his own way. Sounded like the sort of stuff she and her sisters used to do back home on Olympus—even resorting to using his father to help him get out of trouble.

  Oh crap. Have I been as bad as this kid? Is this some sort of warped poetic justice for past misdeeds?

  James placed his hand on her shoulder in a surprisingly comforting gesture. “I know this kid’s father. I’ll go speak to him and see if we can get this sorted out.”

  * * * *

  James closed the door to the office of Judge Whittaker and smiled. He couldn’t believe how easy it had been. One mention of the interesting story it made
, having the son of an upstanding judge caught in a King’s Cross exotic dancers’ nightclub. It wasn’t quite as bad as a strip club, but it came pretty close. The media would ignore the subtle differences and the general public certainly didn’t care.

  The gentleman’s old boys’ network did come in handy sometimes, with James’ father the golf partner of the judge. It was one of the first things he learned about the law. Ninety per cent of cases were won or lost in the clubs, the restaurants and the offices of solicitors, barristers and judges. Not exactly truth, justice and equality for the downtrodden, but sometimes one had to work the system to get what one wanted.

  And he had what he wanted now. With this stupid, annoying case over, he could relax. By the time he had returned to the police station, the call from the judge should have been received, letting the crazy Miss Olympia off the hook. How his sensible, intelligent and usually conservative secretary had hooked up with that woman he’d never know.

  She dressed like a slut and danced around a pole in a club at King’s Cross in her spare time. She teaches the tango. Enough said.

  However, he couldn’t help but smile when he thought about her. She definitely had vitality. He wondered what she looked like under that wig and makeup. Her eyes were magnificent, that deep sea-green colour so vibrant it had to be coloured contacts. No one had eyes that colour naturally. They reminded him of the aquamarine waters of the Aegean. He’d travelled there during his gap year after school and he hadn’t thought about that trip to the Greek Islands for quite some time. One day soon, he’d have to make time to go back. Once he’d established himself as Queen’s Counsel. If he ever had time off again.

  As he hailed a cab from outside the Supreme Court, he sighed, reminding himself of the many briefs on his desk and how there were too many pending cases for him to be distracted by this case, or this woman—or holidays in exotic locations. Since the recent rise in high-profile CEOs getting caught with their hands in the till, it was a busy time for corporate law barristers. No time to think about idyllic beaches or sparkling green eyes. Besides, no one could be further away from his ‘type’ than her. She made him smile when she batted those amazing eyes at him, but that wasn’t a bad thing, was it? Come to think of it, her eyes were not the only part of her that made him smile. There was…that outfit. Oh yeah. That skimpy tank top had barely covered her chest, and what purpose did that scrap of material around her middle fulfil? A skirt? It certainly showed off her legs. And those glorious legs went on forever.

  Good God man, snap out of it.

  He spent the short taxi ride back to the police station annoyed at his lack of control. Instead, he should keep his eye on his job. The law was predictable, and with it, he knew where he stood. He didn’t have time to think about any woman, let alone a crazy, pole-dancing tango teacher. Hell, he had a career to think about. The promise he’d made to his father weighed on his mind, but he would follow in his father’s footsteps and become a Queen’s Counsel. Even though the idea didn’t exactly set him on fire, he wasn’t about to change his mind and disappoint his father. To get where he needed to be, he needed order in his life and Miss Corey Olympia represented total chaos. The sooner he wrapped this case up, the better.

  But she still made him smile and she certainly was gorgeous. He chuckled as he anticipated this one last time to let her flirt with him. After today, he could move on and forget all about her. So why did he have trouble convincing himself it would be easy?

  When the desk sergeant told him she’d already been released, he should have been relieved. Instead, he felt the disappointment sorely as he took a cab back to his apartment where a boring evening filled with paperwork awaited.

  * * * *

  The doorbell rang around eleven o’clock as James shut down his laptop, about to turn in. Who the hell is visiting at this time of night?

  Peering through his peephole, he saw a woman. A woman he didn’t recognise. A gorgeous woman he didn’t recognise, who pressed his doorbell quite insistently.

  “Okay, okay, I’m coming.”

  He opened the door and the woman flung herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him smack bang on the mouth. Not just any old kiss either. Holy crap. Sparks flew from the first fiery touch of her soft, but demanding mouth on his.

  Who is this woman?

  Then again, his hormones said something else—who cares?

  The softness of her lips belied the intoxicating power of her taste, mixed with the heady scent of her skin. His senses were overloaded as the woman snaked her fingers into his hair and she drew nearer to his body, pressing her breasts so close he could feel the outline of her taut nipples.

  Somehow reality kicked in. What in God’s name am I doing kissing a strange woman? Reluctantly he withdrew, placing his hands on her shoulders to steady her as he pushed her away, his breathing as rapid as a freight train. “Okay, you have my attention now.” She opened her eyes and looked up into his face.

  Aquamarine eyes, the colour of the Aegean. No, it can’t be.

  Afraid he knew the answer already, he asked anyway. “Care to tell me who you are and what you’re doing here?”

  She smiled. “Don’t you recognise me, James?” Pouting, she placed her hand dramatically over her chest. “I’m deeply wounded.”

  He laughed. Somehow he thought her ego could take it. She looked more like the cat who had swallowed the cream than a wounded one. Still, he couldn’t believe this beautiful woman before him was the self-same, pole-dancing tango teacher he’d met that afternoon. She definitely cleaned up well, and his tightening pants could certainly attest to that. “Miss Olympia? I didn’t recognise you. You look different.”

  Picking up his hand, she turned it over before tracing his heart line with her index finger. “It’s Corey, and aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  He stood back to let her through. “Sure, come in.” Warning bells rang loudly in his head, but he ignored them as she sauntered past him, her hips swaying seductively as she made her way to his couch. What does she want? He’d already decided she wasn’t his type, although she did look better in her surprisingly conservative clothes. With her high–collared white shirt buttoned all the way up to the top and a colourful skirt swishing and swirling around her ankles, no skin showed at all. Yet she still managed to look enticingly sexy. The biggest surprise was her hair. He’d known the blonde mop was a wig, but he never would have guessed at the crowning glory under it. Her hair was magnificent with those amazing red curls flowing way past her shoulders. His hands itched to touch it and feel the softness between his fingers.

  Jeez, he needed to get a grip.

  “Nice place you have here, James.” she said. She smiled while making herself at home on his couch, spreading her arms languorously over the top of it.

  He stared at the gorgeous body sitting on his couch. She confounded him and he asked himself again—Why is she here? “Is there a problem with the charges? The judge dropped them, didn’t he?”

  “No problems at all. In fact, that’s why I’m here. To thank you.” Her green eyes twinkled. “I’d be in real trouble if not for your help. I am deeply in your debt.”

  Remembering the heat of that kiss, he shifted from one foot to another. “Consider me thanked.”

  She lifted her eyebrows and smiled again, a cute little dimple appearing on her cheek. “Oh no, James. I am nowhere near finished thanking you yet.”

  His trousers tightened painfully at her cheeky words. Holy shit. How did this woman get him so revved up inside?

  She stood up and glided over to him, picked up his hand and proceeded to drag him towards the couch, sending tingles through his arm and all over his whole body.

  “I disagree,” he said, his voice sounding much huskier than he wanted it to.

  She sat back down again and he fell onto the couch with her, landing so close that he braced his free hand on the wall behind to stop himself from falling on top of her. She smiled, winking at him as he struggle
d to put some extra space between them. “No, really…”

  Using her fingers, she kneaded gently along his arm and stopped when she reached his shoulder. “Now don’t go all stuffy on me, James. I know how you kiss, and you kiss darn well, so you can’t fool me.”

  He coughed to clear his throat and attempted to stand. “Really, there is no need to thank me,” he said in a voice that sounded at least two octaves higher than usual. “Can I get you something to drink?” Smooth, James, real smooth.

  She increased the pressure of her hand on his shoulder, surprising him with her strength and stopping him from moving. “You can relax, James. I’m not going to jump on you. Not that the thought isn’t tempting, but I’ve decided the best thing I can do to thank you is to help you lighten up a little, have some fun.”

  No way. “That’s not necessary.”

  “You mightn’t think so, but don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.” She stroked her hand over his cheek and ran a finger over his lips.

  He shivered, unable to hold back his body’s reaction.

  “When I’m finished with you, you’ll be so relaxed you won’t know yourself.”

  That’s what he was worried about.

  Finally he managed to break the spell and stand. “Corey, I insist. It’s not necessary, and I’d rather not.”

  She didn’t bat an eyelid. Oh she is good—she should be a barrister.

  “Don’t be too hasty, James. We’ll talk tomorrow and get started.”

  A swish of cool air touched his face as she stood up and breezed out of the door. Turning around to face him, her eyes alight with laughter, she winked again. “Don’t look so worried. It’ll the best fun you’ve ever had.”

  He stared at the door for several minutes after she had left. What the heck had he got himself into?

  Chapter Two

  Damn the gods. The shadowy figure followed Corey all the way home. She’d managed to extricate herself from the police much too quickly. It must be that damn lawyer. He glided just above the rooflines, deliberately ducking behind buildings so he could mask his presence. It appeared that here, in modern times, lawyers were as inconvenient and annoying as they were on Mt Olympus. Terpsichore thought she was free and clear, but only he knew it to be a false sense of security. Let her feel comfortable for a while longer. Soon she will wish herself back in that police cell, because his plans for her meant only fear and pain. His plan was foolproof. Using the mortals he’d created so long ago was a stroke of genius, and would anger Zeus further, allowing him to exact his revenge in the most painful way possible.