know for sure. I assume you’ll be staying in the city?”
“Yes. I’m at the Hilton at Fifty-fourth and Sixth.”
“What do you say we have some dinner. I think we can safely celebrate. You
really nail—”
“Ah, thanks, no,” Dev said, sidestepping into the central aisle. “I appreciate it,
but I’ve got another appointment. Call me and let me know about tomorrow.”
“All right. Thanks again!”
The aisle was clearer now, and Dev pushed hurriedly through the double doors
into the hallway beyond. It was empty, and the pain of disappointment was so
sharp she gasped. Dazed, uncertain now that she had even seen her, Dev
mechanically pushed the down button on the elevator, stepped in, and rode to
the lobby.
She was halfway to the front doors when she heard her name.
“Dev?”
Spinning around, Dev saw her standing off to the side beneath a marble
archway. She stared for a heartbeat and then another, and when Leslie didn’t
disappear, she cautiously approached her.
“Les?”
“Hi,” Leslie said, smiling almost shyly.
“What are you doing here?”
“My mother told me you were coming down to testify, so I thought I’d do a little
reconnaissance and see what kind of ammunition the other side was using.”
Leslie brushed her hair away from her face, a nervous gesture that was totally
unlike her. She’d never actually been alone with Dev when she’d been aware of
what was between them. Not when there hadn’t been insurmountable barriers
keeping them apart.
She hadn’t been this keyed up around anyone ever, not Mike on their ? rst date
or Rachel the ? rst time they’d made love. The only person who had ever made
her feel anything like this buzzing excitement had been Dev, years ago, and
she’d failed to recognize what it meant then.
But she knew now. “You know, ? eld research.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Dev couldn’t hide her foolish grin. She felt just about as dizzy as
she used to when she was sixteen and she’d leave school later than everyone
else because she’d had detention for showing up late or smart-mouthing a
teacher and Leslie would be waiting for her.
All her anger and resentment would fade at the ? rst sight of Leslie’s smile. Dev
leaned her shoulder against the marble pillar, a wisp of the cocky teenager she’d
been in her stance. “So, Counselor. What do you think?”
Leslie edged closer, as if she were drawn by a magnet and helpless to resist the
pull. She did just barely manage to resist slipping her hand beneath the edge of
Dev’s jacket and touching her. But her ? ngers quivered with the need for
contact. Her voice came out breathy, but she couldn’t control that either. “I
thought you were fabulous. If I ever see your name on an expert list, I’m
recommending we settle.”
Dev laughed, knowing Leslie was playing with her. It felt so good.
So good to tease with her again. She used to think it was the lake that created
the magic around them, that made the rest of the world fade away so there was
only the two of them. Maybe she’d been wrong, because they couldn’t be
farther from the lake than they were right now and she felt it still. The magic.
Watching the happiness light Leslie’s eyes, she felt the dream tremble and surge
back to life.
“Let me take you to dinner,” Leslie said quickly. “You’re not going right back,
are you?”
If she had intended to go home, Dev would have changed her plans
immediately. She shook her head. “I’m here until tomorrow.”
“Where are you staying?”
Dev told her, lifting her overnighter. “I should probably go check in now.” She
didn’t move, loath to let Leslie out of her sight. “I could meet you somewhere?”
“Why don’t I go with you?” Leslie said, having dif? culty thinking clearly when
every nerve in her body was jangling. Since her mother had told her a week
before about Dev’s upcoming trial and she’d tracked down the details, she’d
anticipated seeing Dev. As the day had drawn closer, her anxiety—part
excitement, part uncertainty—had climbed exponentially to the point where she
could barely sleep. Now Dev was here, and she wasn’t wasting a minute of their
time together. “We can walk to dinner somewhere from your hotel.”
“Sure. That sounds great.” Dev thought anything sounded great as long as she
could spend the evening with Leslie. Like an addict who knew she would wake
up bathed in the clammy sweat of remorse and regret in the morning but who
nevertheless downed the next drink or shot the next line or laid down the next
bet, Dev reached for Leslie’s hand. She didn’t care how much it hurt tomorrow.
Tonight the wounds that never completely healed would fade for a few merciful
hours.
“Let’s go.”
Still holding Dev’s hand, Leslie hailed a cab and they climbed into the backseat.
Their thighs brushed as the cabbie swerved through rush-hour traf? c with the
reckless abandon of a man with a death wish.
At one point the cab jerked so violently that Leslie was thrown into Dev, and
Dev automatically curved her arm around Leslie’s shoulders.
Leslie wrapped her arm around Dev’s waist to steady herself. When the cab
resumed a somewhat smoother course, Leslie didn’t move away.
Dev stared straight ahead through the windshield, but she wasn’t watching the
traf? c or the street signs. She wasn’t aware of anything except Leslie leaning
against her and the pressure of Leslie’s arm wrapped around her middle. Her
heart was pounding, or maybe that was Leslie’s. Blood thundered through her
chest, heat kindled in the depths of her abdomen, and she shivered as waves of
arousal rolled through her. She stroked Leslie’s arm and her ? ngertips burned.
“I can’t do this, Les,” Dev whispered, realizing that unlike the addict, she had no
tolerance for her addiction. The pleasure would destroy her long before
morning. “I thought I could. But I can’t.”
“Do what?” Leslie murmured, following the pulse rippling along Dev’s neck
through heavy lids. Her body felt tight, like ripe fruit ready to burst in the sun.
“I can’t be this close to you.” Dev shuddered as Leslie smoothed her palm in a
gentle circle over the center of her stomach.
“You’re shaking.” Leslie drew away, searching Dev’s face anxiously, her heart
clenching at the agony in Dev’s dark eyes. “Oh, God, Dev, what’s wrong?”
“I thought I could be friends. Spend time with you, like friends.”
