Falling For Rachel - Stanislaskis 3 Part 18

He wasn't quite ready to take that position. "Why?"

"For the purest of reasons," she told him. "To have somebody I could push around." When he smiled, she felt the first genuine tug of relief.

"Come on, get back to work."

She walked down with him, certain they had progressed to the next stage. To rea.s.sure herself, she stayed in the kitchen for a few minutes, pleased when she felt no lingering tension from Nick's direction.

When she slipped out, she looked immediately for Zack.

"In the office," Pete told her, grinning. "You should go right on in."

"Thanks." She was puzzled by the chuckles that rumbled around the bar, but when she glanced back, everyone looked busy and innocent. Too innocent, Rachel thought as she pushed open Zack's office door.

He was there all right, big as life, standing in front of his s.h.i.+pshape desk.

There was a curvy blonde wrapped around him, clinging like cellophane.

With one brow arched, Rachel took in the scene. The blonde was doing her best to crawl up Zack's body. She nearly had him pinned to the desk, and Zack was tugging at the arms that roped his neck. The expression on his face, Rachel mused-a kind of baffled embarra.s.sment-was worth the price of admission all by itself.

"Listen, honey, I appreciate the offer. Really. But I'm not-" He broke off when he spotted Rachel.

That expression, she decided, was even better. This one had traces of shock, chagrin and apology, all seasoned with a nice dollop of fear. "Oh, G.o.d." He managed to pry one arm from around his neck, and he tried to shake her off, but she transferred her grip to his waist.

"Excuse me," Rachel said, her tongue firmly in her cheek. "I can see you're busy."

"d.a.m.n it, don't shut the door." His eyes widened when the blonde s.h.i.+fted to give his bottom a nice, intimate squeeze. "Give me a break, Rachel."

"You want a break?" She glanced back to where the regulars had moved closer, craning their necks to catch the show. "He wants a break," she told them. Very casually, she strolled across the threshold. "Which leg would you like me to break, Muldoon? Or would you prefer an arm?

Maybe your neck."

"Have a heart." The blonde was giggling now as she tugged at his sweater. "Help me get her off. She's plowed."

"I'd think a big strong man like you could handle that all by yourself."

"She moves like a d.a.m.n eel," he muttered. "Come on, Babs, let go. I'll call you a cab."

She was slithering over him, Rachel noted, and with a sigh she took charge. Gripping the blonde's artfully tangled mane in one hand, she tugged. Hard. The quick squeal of pain was very satisfying. Following up on it, Rachel shoved her face close. "You're trespa.s.sing, dear."

Babs weaved, gave a glazed-eyed grin. "I didn't see any signs."

"Consider yourself lucky I don't make you see stars." Using the hair as a leash, Rachel pulled the squeaking blonde to the door. "This way out."

"I'll take it from here." Lola slipped an arm around the blonde's waist.

"Come on, sweetie, you're looking a little green." "He's just so d.a.m.n cute," Babs sighed as she stumbled toward the ladies'

room with Lola.

"Call her a cab," Zack shouted. After one heated glare at the grinning faces of his customers, he slammed the door shut. "Listen, Rachel..."

Besides being mortified, he was out of breath, and he took a moment to steady himself. "It wasn't the way it looked."

"Oh?" The situation was too entertaining to resist. She sauntered over to his desk, scooted onto the edge and crossed her legs. "How did it look, Muldoon?"

"You know d.a.m.n well." He blew out a breath, tucked his useless hands in his pockets. "She got herself wasted on a couple of stingers. I came in to call her a cab, and she followed me." His brows drew together when Rachel lifted a hand to examine her nails. "She attacked me."

"Want to press charges?"

"Don't get cute with me." As embarra.s.sing moments went, Zack considered this in the top ten. "I was trying to... defend myself."

"I could see it was a pitched battle. You're lucky you came out of it alive."

"What was I supposed to do, knock her cold?" He paced from one wall to the other. "I told her I wasn't interested, but she wouldn't back off."

"You're just so d.a.m.n cute," Rachel said, fluttering her lashes.

"Funny," he tossed over his shoulder. "Really funny. You're going to play this one out all the way, aren't you?"

"Bingo." She picked up a letter opener from his desk, tested the point, thoughtfully. "As counsel for the defense, I have to ask if you feel that strutting behind the bar in those snug black jeans-" "I don't strut."

"I'll rephrase the question." She flicked the tip of the letter opener with her thumb. "Can you say-and I remind you, Mr. Muldoon, you're under oath-can you tell this court you haven't done anything to entice the defendant, to make her believe you were available? Even willing?"

"I never... Well, I might have before you..." As a man of the sea, Zack knew when to cut line. He crossed his arms over his chest. "I take the Fifth."

"Coward."

"You bet." He eyed the letter opener warily. "You don't plan to use that on any particularly sensitive part of my anatomy?"

Letting her gaze skim down, Rachel touched her tongue to her upper lip.

"Probably not."

His smile came slowly and was full of relief. "You're really not mad, are you, sugar?"

"That I walked in and found you in a compromising position with a blond bombsh.e.l.l?" After a quick laugh, she s.h.i.+fted her grip on the letter opener. "Why should I be mad, sugar?"

"You may have saved my life." He thought he'd gauged her mood correctly, but his approach was still cautious. "You don't know what she said she was going to do to me." He gave a mock shudder, and slipped his arms around her, as if for support. "She's a yoga instructor."

"Oh, my." Biting back a grin, Rachel patted his back. "What did she threaten you with?"

"Well, I think it went something like..." He leaned close to her ear, whispering. He heard Rachel's surprised chuckle. "And then..." "Oh, my" was all she could say. She swallowed once. "Do you think that's anatomically possible?"

"I think you'd have to be double-jointed, but we could give it a try."

Wicked laughter gleaming in her eyes, she tilted her head back. "I don't care what you say, Muldoon. I think you liked being pawed."

"Uh-uh." He nuzzled her neck. "It was degrading. I feel so... cheap."

"There, there. I saved you."

"You were a regular Viking."

"And you know what they say about Vikings..." she murmured as she turned her mouth to his.

"Go ahead," he said invitingly. "Use me."

"Oh, I plan to."

The kiss was long and satisfying, but as it began to heat he tore his mouth from hers to bury his face in her hair.

"Rachel, you don't know how good you feel. How right."

"I know this feels right." Eyes shut tightly, she held him close.

"Do you?"

"Yes. I think..." She let her words trail off into a sigh. She'd been doing a great deal of thinking over the past few days. "I think sometimes people just fit. The way you told me once before."

He drew back, cupping her face in his hands. His eyes were very dark, very intense, on hers. She wasn't entirely sure what she was reading in them, but it made her heart trip-hammer into her throat. "We fit. I know you said you didn't want to get involved. That you have priorities." She linked her fingers around his wrists. "I said a lot of things."

"Rachel, I want you to move in with me." He saw the surprise in her eyes and hurried on before she could answer. "I know you wanted to keep it simple. So did I. This doesn't have to be a complication. You'd have time to think about it. We have to wait until everything's straightened out with Nick. But I need for you to know how much I want to be with you-not just s.n.a.t.c.hing time."

She let out an unsteady breath. "It's a big step."

"And you don't do things on impulse." He lowered his lips to brush hers.

"Think about it. Think about this," he whispered, and took the kiss deep, deep, fathoms deep, until thinking was impossible.

"Zack, I need to-" Nick burst into the office, and froze. He saw Rachel pressed against his brother, her hands fisted in his hair, her eyes soft and clouded.

They cleared quickly enough, and now there was alarm there, and apology. But as Nick stared at them, all he could see was the red mist of betrayal.

She shouted his name as Nick leaped. Zack saw the blow coming, and he let it connect. It rocked him back on his heels. He tasted blood. Instinct had him gripping Nick's wrists to prevent another punch, but Nick twisted away, agile as a snake, and braced for the next round.

"Stop it!" Heedless that the next fist could fly any second, Rachel stepped furiously between them, shoving them apart. "This isn't the way."

Clamping down on his own temper, Zack merely lifted her up and set her aside. "Stay clear. You want to go a round in here?" he said to Nick.

"Or take it outside?"

"Of all the-" "Anywhere you say," Nick snapped, cutting Rachel off. "You son of a b.i.t.c.h. It was always you." He shoved, but the bright hurt in his eyes kept Zack from striking back. "You always had to come out on top, didn't you?" His breathing was labored as he rammed Zack back against the wall. "All this c.r.a.p about family. Well, you know where you can stick it, bro."

"Nick, please." Rachel lifted a hand, but let it drop when he turned those furious eyes on her.

"Just shut up. That whole line of bull you handed me upstairs. You've got real talent, lady, because I was buying it. You knew how I felt, and all the time you're making it with him behind my back."

"Nick, it wasn't like that."

"You lying b.i.t.c.h."

His head snapped back when Zack clipped him with a backhand. There was blood on both sides now. "You want to take a swing at me, go ahead. But you don't talk to her like that."

Teeth gritted, Nick wiped the blood from his lip. He wanted to hate.

Needed to. "The h.e.l.l with you. The h.e.l.l with both of you."

He swung on his heel and darted out. "Oh, G.o.d." Rachel covered her face, but it did nothing to erase the image of the hurt she'd seen in Nick's eyes.

The damage, she thought miserably, that she had done. "What a mess.

I'm going after him."

"Leave him alone."

"It's my fault," she said, dropping her arms to her sides. "I have to try."

"I said leave him alone." "d.a.m.n it, Zack-"

"Excuse me." There was a rap on the door, which Nick had left hanging open. Rachel turned and bit back a groan.

"Judge Beckett."

"Good evening, Ms. Stanislaski. Mr. Muldoon, I dropped in for one of your famous manhattans. Perhaps you could mix one for me while I have a conference with your brother's attorney."

"Your Honor," Rachel began, "my client..."

"I saw your client as he roared out of here. Your mouth's bleeding, Mr.

Muldoon." She turned and shot a look at Rachel. "Counselor?"

"Perfect timing," Rachel said under her breath. "I'll handle this," she said to Zack. "Don't worry. And once Nick works off a little steam-"

"He'll come back smiling?" Zack finished. His temper was fading, but guilt was moving full steam ahead. "I don't think so. And it's not your fault." He wished he had more than his own empty sense of failure to give her. "He's my brother. I'm responsible." He shook his head before she could speak. "Let me go fix the judge her drink."

He brushed by her. Rachel reached out to stop him, then let her hand fall away. There was nothing she could say to ease the hurt. But she had a chance to minimize the damage with Judge Beckett.

She found the judge looking attractive and relaxed at a table on the far side of the bar. Yet the aura of power the woman had when wearing black robes on the bench wasn't diminished in the least by the trim blue slacks and white sweater she wore tonight. "Have a seat, Counselor."

"Thank you." Beckett smiled, tapping rose-tipped nails on the edge of the table. "I can see the wheels turning. How much do I tell her, how much do I evade? I always enjoy having you in my courtroom, Ms. Stanislaski. You have style."

"Thank you," Rachel said again. Their drinks arrived, and she took the time while they were served to gather her thoughts. "I'm afraid you might, understandably, misinterpret what you saw tonight, Your Honor."

"Are you?" With a smile, Beckett sampled her drink. She s.h.i.+fted her gaze to meet Zack's and sent him an approving smile. "And what would you consider my interpretation?"

"Obviously, Nick and his brother were arguing."

"Fighting," Beckett corrected, stirring the cherry around in her drink before biting it from its stem. "Arguing involves words. And, while words may leave scars, they don't draw blood."