Devil's Advocate Read online

  Caitlyn’s gaze faltered. It had been a shot in the dark, but all things considered, it wasn’t hard to assume this woman belonged to the one percent.

  “I believe in earning my own way,” Caitlyn challenged.

  Yeah, right, Ash thought. No doubt she’d had everything handed to her on a silver platter, while Ash had struggled each step of the way. She refused to let herself feel bad for pointing out the facts, no matter how uncomfortable Caitlyn’s look of pained embarrassment was making Ash feel.

  “I watched a clip of your opening and closing statements for the Lavender Law online competition,” Caitlyn said, her attempt to change the subject as transparent as the crystals on the chandeliers above them. “You’re good. Maybe even great.”

  The silent sentiment but I’m better hung in the air, as did the realization that Caitlyn’s reference to Lavender Law, the largest LGBTQ+ law conference in the country, meant the woman knew a lot more about Ash than she’d counted on. It also meant Caitlyn would be anything but oblivious to the mad attraction building like molten lava beneath Ash’s calm exterior.

  The knowledge of this new familiarity made Ash wince inwardly, but perhaps it was time to turn a weakness into a strength. Address the elephant in the room. It was the last thing Caitlyn would expect, a tactic that frequently worked in the courtroom and just might do the trick in real life as well. Although, by now, Ash had completely lost track of what she was trying to accomplish with this woman. What would even count as a victory? Short of a night of wild debauchery, that was.

  “Is that why you think I’ll ruin your life?” Ash circled back to the beginning, desperately needing to stay focused on the facts instead of the way Caitlyn’s curves filled her expertly tailored jacket and slim skirt. “Have I guessed your strategy?”

  “What strategy is that?” Caitlyn’s expression clouded with wariness, which made Ash’s heart pump harder. Was she onto something?

  “You planned to seduce me, to throw me off my game.” Though Ash said it teasingly, a rebellious corner of her psyche hoped it was true. “But now that you’ve met me in person, you’re not sure you can resist my charm.”

  After a momentary pause, Caitlyn burst into laughter, ending with a loud snort so at odds with her ladylike appearance, Ash almost couldn’t believe she’d been the source. It was completely adorable. “Yes, you caught me. Well done. I’ve beaten everyone else here with my cunning legal mind, but now I’m helpless under your sapphic spell.”

  Despite being on the receiving end of some top-level sarcasm, Ash struggled not to break into a grin. Beneath the snark, it was just possible there was a kernel of truth, as it seemed the lady protested too much.

  “I’ll try to go easy on you,” Ash promised.

  “That would be a shame. There’s no denying the McGill and Harding Invitational is the crème de la crème of competitions. Most of us have been competing for years to reach this level, yet here you are out of the blue. You must have something up your sleeve.” Caitlyn clinked her wine glass against Ash’s, arching one brow. “Care to share?”

  “You expect me to reveal my secrets at the first waggle of an eyebrow?”

  “No.” Caitlyn took a tiny step forward, almost imperceptible but enough to send Ash’s heart rate skyrocketing. “I expect you to twist me around your finger, doing what you want with me. Or to try, anyway.”

  Ash swallowed hard at the deluge of possibilities that flooded her mind. Lord help her, those glossy pink lips, that silky hair…

  Escape was the only sane option. She had to do it now, while she still had enough resolve to walk away.

  The summer associate position, she reminded herself. It would pay her more in three months than she could earn in a year, enough to finally finish law school. Get a high paying job at a top firm. Give her mom and siblings the life they’d been denied for too long. And finally, just maybe, have the resources she needed to go after the types of bastards that had stolen it all from them.

  “It’s getting late,” she managed to choke through lips that would rather be doing so many other things.

  “Indeed.” Caitlyn reached around Ash to place her glass on the bar, brushing her hand in the process. “Which room are you in?”

  “422, wherever that is,” Ash replied, some of her earlier insecurity returning as she recalled the vastness of this place, with so many hallways that seemed to lead everywhere and nowhere at once. “This old house is so big I don’t think I can find my way from one end to the other without a map and a sherpa.”

  “I’m in 425. Lucky for you, I know exactly where your room is and would be delighted to take you there. What happens next is up to you.” A naughty smile spread across Caitlyn’s face, sending Ash’s stomach whirling like a rollercoaster loop. She opened her mouth to reply but couldn’t make a sound. It was just as well. Ash didn’t have a clue what she would’ve said if she could have spoken.

  CHAPTER TWO

  What happens next is up to you? That was not what Caitlyn had intended to say. Good night would’ve been the safest choice, or maybe good luck. She might have added sweet dreams and a seductive wink if she’d wanted to get daring.

  Who was she kidding? Given how hot Ashley Tanner had turned out to be, she totally would’ve risked that much just for the satisfaction of seeing the woman blush. But basically propositioning a total stranger—and competitor—on the first night of the biggest mock trial of her career? That crossed way too many lines to count.

  And yet the invitation had tumbled past her lips with all the subtlety of a bowling ball, her words now skittering down the lane so erratically it was impossible to guess if they’d score a strike or end in the gutter.

  Along with your dirty mind, Caitlyn reprimanded herself.

  Ash raised an eyebrow but did not immediately shoot down the suggestion, as she had every right to do. She seemed dazed. But maybe tempted? Finally, she bit her lip. “What are you, some sort of tour guide? I didn’t realize you were an expert on this place.”

  So she’d chosen to pretend the invitation had never happened? An interesting choice. It was a wise move, perhaps, but a little disappointing. Caitlyn would’ve died if Ash had taken her up on the offer, but now that she hadn’t, it sorta stung. But the suggestion that Caitlyn knew too much about the Harding mansion raised a whole new set of issues.

  “I mean, I’ve been here a few times.” Caitlyn’s heart raced as she forced a carefree laugh. It was the truth, but not the whole truth.

  “Of course you have.” Ash’s eyes swept the ballroom with its twinkling crystal sconces and frescoed walls that would’ve been just as much at home in the palace of Versailles. “Why wouldn’t you be intimately familiar with one of the most exclusive spas in the Northeast? You probably have a standing appointment.”

  “What can I say? I like a good facial.” Caitlyn’s laugh was overly jocular, making it hard not to wish herself instantly mute, or maybe dead. If she wanted to succeed as a lawyer, she was going to have to get better at keeping her nerves in check.

  Especially when there was subterfuge at play.

  That she enjoyed the occasional spa treatment was not a lie, but it wasn’t the reason Caitlyn knew her way around this particular hotel. Prior to the death of the former owner Ethel Harding—at which point her brother, Cuthbert, developed the property into a resort—this seaside mansion had been a private residence. And Ethel Harding had been Caitlyn’s grandmother. That made Cuthbert Harding—Bertie to his family, and founding partner of McGill and Harding to the legal world—Caitlyn’s great-uncle.

  This was one of Caitlyn’s most closely guarded secrets.

  She hadn’t been lying in saying she believed in earning her way. Becoming an attorney on her own merit while belonging to a family like the Hardings made this almost impossible for anyone to believe. Fortunately, the connection was on her mother’s side—the mother who had died giving birth to her—while Caitlyn bore her father’s last name.

  No one who had ever met Richard Brews
ter—notorious playboy and general waste of fake tanning spray, a man who’d had almost as many wives as he had pairs of shoes—would ever accuse him of being involved with a business as successful and respectable as McGill and Harding. A Ponzi scheme was more his speed. But nothing that required actual work.

  And while Caitlyn knew she could have a position at her uncle’s firm upon graduation if she asked, that was the last thing she intended to do. She wanted the job all right. That was the whole reason for competing in the mock trial, where the prize was a summer associate position nearly guaranteed to turn into an offer of full-time employment after graduation. She just wanted to earn it fair and square.

  Caitlyn wanted that almost as much as she wanted to escort her drop-dead gorgeous competitor back to her hotel room, strip her naked, and have her wicked way with her. At most, only one of those things was likely to happen tonight, and probably not one of the fun options. Best to get on with it so she could go back to her own room, alone, and check if she’d remembered to pack fresh batteries for her vibrator.

  “Clock’s ticking, Tanner.” Caitlyn gave the imaginary watch on her wrist an exaggerated tap. “Do you want my guide services or not?”

  “As long as that’s all you’re offering.” Ash tilted her head, giving Caitlyn a loaded look.

  Caitlyn pressed a hand to her chest. “What else could I possibly have in mind?”

  “I think you know.”

  Yeah. Caitlyn knew.

  She also had a pretty good feeling from the starved look on Ash’s face that if something more did happen to be on offer, the woman wouldn’t say no. Not with a tiny push in the right direction, anyway.

  The question was, should Caitlyn push?

  Caitlyn’s only goal when she’d first approached Ash at the reception had been to get inside the woman’s head. Sow enough doubt and confusion to obliterate the only competitor who, in her best estimation, might have a snowball’s chance in hell of stealing the big win from her.

  But within a minute of meeting her rival, Caitlyn had realized she was in trouble. It wasn’t just the woman’s stunning good looks, like the long chestnut waves that made Caitlyn’s fingers itch with the desire to tangle and stroke, or the way her dark eyes shimmered with golden specks when the light from the chandelier hit them just right. It was the woman’s sharp wit and biting humor that truly did her in. But while Ash’s intellect was her most attractive quality, her head was far from the only place Caitlyn now hoped to get inside.

  Too bad that was the one thing Caitlyn could never let happen.

  “Your virtue is entirely safe with me.” Caitlyn drew a cross over her heart, cursing her high moral standards, the ones that kept her from taking unfair advantage of this prime opportunity. God only knew where they’d come from. Certainly not her father.

  Actually, Caitlyn did know. Every summer she’d spent at this very house while her father sailed the world on his yacht, Grandma Harding had made it her mission to raise Caitlyn to be a good person.

  Damn inconvenient at a time like this.

  Her grandmother had valued integrity and hard work, even if her father had cared more about ditching his only daughter as often as possible for the first fourteen years of her life. Then one of his wives—Caitlyn had lost track of exactly which number he’d been on by that time—gave birth to her baby sister, Sadie. After that, her father’s mission had been to ditch them both. It was the one thing in his life he’d proven to be great at.

  “Fine. Lead the way.” Ash’s shoulders relaxed, but in a way that hinted at disappointment. At least, Caitlyn hoped that was what she was feeling. The woman was going to be missing out on some top-notch booty.

  Ash followed Caitlyn out of the ballroom and down a long corridor, then into the grand entryway with the sweeping staircase Caitlyn had come racing down as a kid, riding on a massive silver serving tray Grandma Harding’s butler, Willis, had given her to use as a sled. She smiled to herself at the memory as she opened the front door, standing to one side to allow Ash to pass through first.

  Her grandmother may have taught her morals, but it had been Willis who’d helped her hone her good manners.

  Ash paused when they made it into the fresh night air, her mouth turning downward as her brow creased. “Why are we outside?”

  “Because all the rooms in the four-hundreds are in the annex building.”

  “Annex?” Ash’s eyes widened. “That sounds like a place you take your competition to murder them and hide the body.”

  “That idea never even occurred to me,” Caitlyn admitted with a laugh. It was ridiculous how amused she was, especially considering her beautiful companion had all but confessed to being a wannabe ax murderer. “I’m not sure which of us should be more scared at this point, you or me.”

  Caitlyn had intended it to be a joke, but all of a sudden, Ash really did look scared.

  “This is a bad idea,” Ash stammered. “Thanks for your help, but I think I can manage from here.”

  As the woman pivoted to her left, raising her chin with a look of determination, Caitlyn was awash in panic. The thought of losing Ash’s company left her feeling bereft. Way more than she had realized, she’d been counting on another five minutes together. To miss out felt like she was being cheated.

  “You’re going to want to go to the right,” Caitlyn blurted, anything to keep Ash from leaving. Only after she’d said it did she realize her mistake. No number of appointments at the day spa would explain how she knew the path Ash was about to take skirted a marsh which at this time of year would destroy the sturdiest of footwear. Was it too much to hope the other woman was so out of sorts she wouldn’t find that suspicious?

  “And this path on the left goes where, exactly?”

  Apparently it was too much to hope.

  “Uh… I can’t remember.”

  There was no way Ash bought that. Thanks to Grandma Harding’s total insistence on the truth, Caitlyn was a terrible liar. Although she did know how to jitterbug like a champ, so at least she’d learned a few useful life skills from the old lady.

  “If it’s okay with you,” Ash said, a hint of ice in her tone, “I think I’ll take my chances going left.”

  Desperation tore through Caitlyn. It wasn’t even about the attraction, not anymore. She’d never met anyone quite like Ash making her way in this world without any of the privileges Caitlyn took for granted. She had a sudden burning need to discover what made this fascinating woman tick, and she was about to lose her chance.

  “I really wouldn’t go that way if I were you.”

  “Now I’m even more determined to do it my way.”

  Ash turned on a heel. Caitlyn should have let her go, but she couldn’t. Come sun up, they would be gladiators fighting each other to the death. Hardly conducive to friendly chitchat. It was now or never.

  “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” Caitlyn reached for Ash’s arm, her fingers closing around it, determined not to let her walk away. But why? “You’ll ruin your shoes.”

  It had absolutely nothing to do with the woman’s shoes.

  “These?” Ash darted a glance at her feet, letting out a laugh. “They’re hardly Italian leather, although that would just make my suit look even cheaper by comparison.”

  Caitlyn’s eyes followed to a pair of chunky shoes a bit too casual to be worn with business attire. All at once, the pieces fell into place. In an atmosphere like this one, Ash turned her sharp wit against herself so no one else could beat her to the punch. No doubt Caitlyn’s fellow prep school chums—and if she were brutally honest, she would have to count herself among them—had gotten in enough hits to have driven that lesson home.

  “There’s a lot more to being a successful lawyer than wearing a nice suit,” Caitlyn said in a gentle tone. Her heart beat faster as she realized she still had a hold of Ash’s forearm. She should let go, but doing so would only call more attention to the fact.

  “Says the woman in a Chanel suit.” No doubt Ash had me
ant it as a dig, but she too seemed to have become aware of the forearm holding situation, and the words had come out less of a challenge and more of a choke.

  Letting go of Ash’s arm, Caitlyn made a show of smoothing the fuzzy pink wool of her skirt. “You know why I dress like this?”

  “Because you have your daddy’s credit card?” Ash quipped.

  “Because it gives me an advantage,” Caitlyn countered, not sure why she was letting an almost total stranger in on her secret, but not wanting to stop. She started to walk again, talking as they went. “Those idiots back in the ballroom have been competing against me for years. Long enough to know I can wipe the floor with them. But I show up in a cutesy outfit, my blonde hair in bouncy curls, and they’re taken in. They forget who they’re dealing with, at least long enough for me to strike.”

  “They underestimate you,” Ash said with understanding.

  “And they’ll do the same to you,” Caitlyn said bluntly. “So use it.”

  Ash pressed her lips together, hesitating. The pain in her eyes was so raw, Caitlyn nearly looked away. “And how do I get a top firm like McGill and Harding to see past my background and give me a chance?”

  “You buy a better suit.” In a different tone, Caitlyn’s answer might have come across as flippant, but it was the sad, simple truth, and she spoke it from the heart. “Why do you even want to work for a firm like McGill and Harding?”

  “Because they’re the best,” Ash stated without a moment’s pause.

  A crack of laughter burst from somewhere deep down in Caitlyn’s belly. “No, that’s why I want to work there. Because I’m a hypercompetitive crazy person who would rather win than have people like me.”

  “And you think I’m not like you? That you all are better than me?” A smoldering anger poured off Ash, not necessarily aimed at Caitlyn herself, but at all the injustice this competition represented. “I worked three part-time jobs to pay my way through school and keep a roof over my mom and siblings’ heads after my dad died. I’ve had to work my ass off just to make it to this one competition. What did you do to earn your spot?”