The Christmas Present. Tracy Wolff

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      RAFAEL GLANCED BEHIND HIM at the woman trailing him down the hallway to his office. She had to be the lawyer—who else would be walking down the most dangerous street in San Francisco dressed like that and looking for his community center? She was late and would have been even if Nacho and his band of moronic maniacs hadn’t hassled her. But then, Rafael shouldn’t be surprised. Experience had taught him that women like her were never on time, even if a young boy’s life hung in the balance.

      Maybe especially then.

      As he opened the door to his office, his upper lip curled with a disgust he didn’t even try to hide. Diego needed a real lawyer, someone who understood him and where he came from. What he didn’t need was this slick Barbie doll version, who spent more attention on her clothes and makeup than she ever would the poor, pro bono client her law firm was forcing her to help.

      When he’d called in the favor owed to him by one of the center’s board members, he’d expected Richard Stanley to send an experienced trial attorney. Someone who was acquainted with his kids’ way of life. Someone who was willing to dig in for a fight, and didn’t look like she was born with a glass of champagne in one hand and a designer handbag in the other.

      Instead, Richard had sent this…cupcake, and now Rafael had absolutely no idea what to do with her.

      “The bathroom’s through there.” He gestured to a door behind him and to the right. “If you want to clean up.”

      “Oh, right, thanks,” she murmured, obviously still a little dazed from her close call. Unless the blank eyes were part of her normal demeanor, in which case Diego was in a lot more trouble than he’d originally thought. And that was saying something.

      “I’ll just be a minute.”

      Rafael nodded as he picked up the phone and dialed the local precinct. He figured he’d have plenty of time to call the cops and check on the kids—women like her didn’t know the meaning of “just a minute.” She’d be in there checking out her appearance for a while.

      Not that there was anything wrong with how she looked, despite her close call with Nacho. Rationally, Rafa knew that part of his anger at her stemmed from her total lack of regard for herself.

      Everything about her was a come-on. From her long, long legs and her do-me heels to her slender curves and chili pepper red hair, she screamed for attention. Add to that skin as pale and creamy as his mama’s flan and her made-for-sex mouth, and the woman was a walking wet dream for the wolves roaming the Tenderloin’s dark streets.

      Still, despite the fairy princess looks, something about her bugged him. Something that wouldn’t fit into the mold he imagined she fit—

      The door to the bathroom swung open and she stood there, as beautifully put together as she would have been for a charity ball. It irked him, had him slamming the phone down on the third ring.

      He would call Jose later—have the detective run by and scare the hell out of Nacho and his band of merry morons. The boys weren’t going anywhere. Rafael shook his head. It wasn’t as if they had anywhere else to go. Right now, he had enough to deal with between the lawyer and Diego.

      The lawyer cleared her throat as she walked carefully into the room, her back ramrod straight and her limbs flowing sensuously with every step she took. No wonder the boys on the street had been all over her—she looked like a goddess and walked like a ballerina. Was there some school rich girls went to that showed them how to walk like that or was she just a natural?

      “I want to thank you for rescuing me. I’m grateful—”

      “I don’t need your gratitude.”

      “I know. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel it.” She reached into her briefcase. “I’d like to do something to say thank-you. Maybe make a donation to—”

      He shoved the bag back down. “I don’t need your money, either.”

      “I didn’t mean it like that.”

      “Sure you did.” He made sure his smile cut like glass. “But there are some things in life that can’t be bought. I’m one of them.”

      Silence stretched between them, and his nerves started to twitch before she finally broke it.

      “All right then.” She held her hand out. “I’m Vivian Wentworth.”

      “I know. Rafael Cardoza.” Instinct had him meeting her palm with his own, though he regretted it the second he touched all that soft, smooth skin.

      “Well, then, I assume you know why I’m here.” She glanced around. “Where’s Diego?”

      “Upstairs. Working.” Rafa leaned down a little until his face was only inches from hers. “I want to make one thing perfectly clear. I don’t know why Richard sent you. I don’t know what he expected someone like you to be able to do for Diego.”

      “Someone like me?”

      “You know what I mean. You look like you spend more time in a salon than you do in a courtroom.” Even as he said them, he couldn’t believe the words had left his mouth. He was acting like a total bastard, but he couldn’t afford to be nice. Diego was too important for him to put the kid’s fate in the hands of a lawyer who didn’t know what she was doing.

      “I can assure you I have seen my fair share of courtrooms,” she snapped. “And then some.”

      “Yeah, well, excuse me if I’m not rolling in confidence here. You don’t exactly look like the type to care about what happens to a poor Hispanic kid accused of murder—even if he is innocent.”

      She stiffened, her eyes darkening, and for a moment he would have done anything to take back the words. There was no call to speak to a woman like that. His mother would have had СКАЧАТЬ