But the feeling wouldn’t last, how could it? The past was a place that existed

only in wistful memories, softly colored by regrets and abandoned dreams. “But

it really was another lifetime.”

“I know,” Dev said hoarsely. It was hard not to accept that, when the present

was about to come crashing in. “Is Rachel coming today?”

Leslie was barely able to hide her surprise. “Yes.” She glanced at her watch.

“Her plane arrives around six.”

“My truck’s clean, if you need it.”

“She’s renting a car. Thanks.”

“You never said what she did.”

“She’s an attorney.”

Dev smiled. “I guess you have a lot in common. That’s nice.”

Leslie did not want to talk about Rachel with Dev. It was too much like all the

times that she had avoided talking to her about Mike. Her relationship with Dev

had always been private, intimate, something that was just theirs. Looking back,

she saw that they had never let the outside world touch it. They had kept it safe.

Right up until the end.

Leslie rested her ? ngers lightly on Dev’s arm. “You were so special to me,

Dev.”

• 190 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

Dev kissed Leslie softly on the cheek. “Thank you, Leslie.” She stepped back

and Leslie’s hand fell away. Dev’s eyes grew darker. “If I don’t see you, have a

safe trip back.”

“Enjoy the rest of the summer. I hope the work goes well.”

“Thanks. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Devon.” Leslie waited a second until Dev turned away, and then she

resumed walking toward the lodge to wait for Rachel.

Maybe she’d been wrong about the next twenty-four hours. Maybe the worst

was already over. Leslie took a shuddering breath, unable to imagine anything

worse than the pain of that goodbye.

• 191 •

• 192 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Leslie selected a bottle of red wine from her parents’ small but well-stocked

cellar, found two glasses and a corkscrew, and carried everything out to the

porch. She opened the bottle, poured a glass, and sipped it as she watched the

afternoon slide toward twilight.

Guests came and went, laughing together, strolling hand in hand, sharing the

special freedom of vacation in the beautiful setting. She tried to imagine herself

and Rachel spending a week in a place like this. She had dif? culty creating the

picture, and when her thoughts inadvertently strayed to all the hours she and

Dev had spent sitting quietly talking by the lakeshore, she pulled herself back to

the present.

She re? lled her glass and reviewed the details of the cases she’d been working

on all week.

Just before eight, a gray Lincoln Town Car pulled into the lot. A second later,

Rachel stepped out. Leslie hadn’t seen her in three weeks, and her ? rst glimpse

stirred a slight shock of surprise at how striking she was. Rachel was Leslie’s

height but subtly fuller in the breasts and hips, and altogether arresting in tailored

black slacks, low heels, and an open-collared, man-tailored white silk shirt.

Many an adversary had been lulled into complacency by Rachel’s ripe

sensuality, but Leslie knew that those sensuous features masked a decisive,

lethally predatory mind.

Leslie looked away to pour wine into the second glass and give herself a few

seconds to settle her nerves. She looked up at the sound of footsteps on the

stairs.

“Hello, darling,” Rachel murmured, leaning down to kiss Leslie, her mouth

lingering for a few seconds before she moved away. With a

• 193 •

RADCLY fFE

sigh, she settled into the chair on the opposite side of the small table that held the

wine. “I certainly hope that glass is for me. I can use it.”

“How was the trip?” Leslie said, automatically handing the glass to Rachel. They

hadn’t touched in three weeks and hadn’t made love for several before that, and

the kiss had felt strangely foreign. Uneasily, Leslie chalked it up to their long

separation.

“Oh, the ? ight was all right,” Rachel said. “But I barely made it to the airport on

time, waiting for a courier to deliver ? les to the of? ce for the deps next week.”

She grimaced. “Sometimes I think the world is ? lled with incompetents. No,

actually I know it is.”

“You really didn’t have to come all the way up here, Rach. I’ve booked a ? ight

back tomorrow afternoon.”

Rachel sipped her wine, her expression contained. “I’m on a nine o’clock ? ight

to Detroit tomorrow. I’ll be gone most of the week.”

“Oh,” Leslie said, oddly relieved. “Still, squeezing this stop in wasn’t necessary.”

“Well, I think it was.” Rachel’s voice was throaty as her eyes dropped to

Leslie’s mouth, then back to her eyes. “It’s been a hellacious month. I’ve been

putting in eighty-hour weeks, dealing with idiots for the most part, and I’ve got a

bit of a mine? eld ahead of me. Getting the asses of these CEOs at Pharmcore

out of the ? re is going to take a bit of work.” She traced a ? nger along the

edge of Leslie’s jaw. “I’ve missed you.”

Leslie forced a smile. She’d missed Rachel too. She’d missed discussing their

respective cases, devising strategy, celebrating victories. She’d missed Rachel’s

acerbic humor and her ceaseless energy. They understood one another’s need

to win, and she missed not needing to defend herself. What she hadn’t missed,

as she read the unmistakable message in Rachel’s eyes, were their intense, often

frantic sexual encounters. Rachel had always needed sex more than she did. It

was Rachel’s outlet, the way she vented her frustration and settled her nerves.

Leslie could always tell when Rachel was facing a dif? cult trial because Rachel

wanted to see her more frequently. Then when they were together, Rachel was

physically more demanding, more aggressive. Leslie never minded, because she

often forgot about her own physical wants and having Rachel satisfy them, even

when she hadn’t realized she needed relief, was welcome.

“I’m sorry my visit turned out to be longer than I expected,” Leslie said, growing

more uncomfortable with her thoughts every second.

• 194 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

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