About That Night

Ryla

Which, of course, they did.

“Sorry. I missed it,” Rae said sheepishly. “I’ve been living in a hole since Monday.”

“A hole that also kept you from noticing the name of the assistant U.S. attorney who handled the motion, obviously,” Ryla

She was so enjoying this.

Rae shrugged. “I assume it’s the same lawyer who handled the rest of the case.”

Ryla

Rae stared at her for a moment, then her eyes went wide. “Shut up. They sent you?”

“Indeed they did.”

“You went up against Kyle Rhodes in court?” Rae laughed. “Well, that’s certainly an interesting way to reco

“He called me ‘counselor.’ “

Rae sat back in her chair, disappointed. “That’s it? What did you say?”

“I said, ‘Mr. Rhodes,’ and shook his hand.”

“Ooh… scintillating stuff.”

Ryla

Ryla

“I don’t do cute. Especially not in court.” Ryla

“Is it now?” Rae’s tone turned suddenly sly. “So how did he look, counselor?”

Like sin in a suit. Ryla

“Which zone is that?”

“The prosecutorial zone, naturally.”

“Then why are you blushing?”

Because, in addition to being cursed with fair skin from her Irish mother, she doubted there were many women in existence who wouldn’t have some basic, instinctive physical reaction to Kyle Rhodes. With that devilish smile and those roguish good looks, any girl would be hard-pressed not to get a little flushed when thinking about him.

Still, Ryla

Rae smiled, not buying that for one second. “Right. So what happens next?”

“Nothing happens next. He’s the Twitter Terrorist. I’m a prosecutor from the office who convicted him. I think that pretty much ends the story.”

Rae thought about that. “Kind of an anticlimactic ending.”

Ryla

Rae raised an eyebrow knowingly. “There are some things a girl never forgets, Ry. And one of those is a kiss from the right guy.”

WHEN RYLANN GOT back to her apartment later that evening, she dropped her briefcase on the living room couch and unbuttoned her trench coat as she made her way to the bedroom. As she stepped into her walk-in closet and hung up the coat, Rae’s words echoed through her head.

There are some things a girl never forgets, Ry. And one of those is a kiss from the right guy.

The notion was a little sentimental for her tastes.

She was a grown woman—thirty-two years old, not thirteen. Meth Lab Ryla

Still…instinctively, her eyes went to the top shelf of the closet.

Shoved near the back was an old shoebox, one she’d had for years. On the day they’d moved in together in San Francisco, Jon had asked her what was inside.

“Just some old letters my mom sent me when I went away to college,” she’d told him, perhaps the only time she’d lied to Jon the entire time they’d been dating.

Reaching up, Ryla

Inside was the navy fla

She ran her fingers over the collar, remembering that moment when he’d handed the shirt over to her. The way her stomach had done a little flip as his hand brushed against her neck.

Okay, fine. Maybe she remembered a few teeny, tiny details about that night.

Ryla

I saw you laughing with your friends, and your smile sucked me right in.

There’d been a spark between her and Kyle, whether she’d wanted to admit it or not. They’d spent less than thirty minutes together, but she’d felt it. Instant butterflies. Not with any other man, including Jon, had she ever experienced that.

“Pull it together, Pierce,” she whispered to herself. This was not a road she needed to go down.

Because, simply, it didn’t matter now.

They weren’t fresh-faced grad students anymore. Kyle Rhodes was an ex-con, and she was an assistant U.S. attorney. There was no place to go from there. She wasn’t going to reach out to him, and after the way she’d brushed him off in the courtroom, she highly doubted that he would try to get in touch with her, either. So that was…that.

Slowly, Ryla

And this time, out of mind. For good.

Eight

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Ryla

“I’ve got to run, Collin, I’ve got some people in my office,” Cameron said to the person on the other end of the line. “Yes, I am a very important person. I know it kills you to share the spotlight.” She smiled at Ryla

She folded her hands on top of her desk. “So. I have an interesting matter I’d like to discuss with you. But first, I wanted to check in and see how your first week has been going.”

“It’s going well,” Ryla

“It is a great group,” Cameron agreed. “I used to be in special prosecutions before they moved me up.”

Ryla

Cameron switched gears, ready to get down to business. “The FBI has recently briefed me on an investigation that I’d like you to handle. It’s a somewhat sensitive matter, and one that I suspect will require an experienced AUSA in light of certain circumstances that I’ll get to in a few moments.”