Even with the lack of sleep, Olivia was at her desk well before anyone else the next morning. She wanted to keep off Ryan’s radar, do her job and concentrate on Logan’s case. But she found herself drifting into thoughts of her night with him, lingering on the Gaelic words she now recognized when he whispered them against her skin. She caught herself sighing more than once, idly tapping her pen against her lips.

The chime of her email brought her back from another daydream. It was from Lori. She clicked the icon and opened the attachment. It was the confirmation of the filing for Logan’s case. Her heart did a little flip. Filings were routine for her, but this meant they had taken the first step in hopefully repairing the damage Jack Ashton had caused. Now it was just a matter of waiting for Ashton’s answer and, as Olivia had told Logan, the possibility of Ashton’s counter suit.

She dialed Logan’s cell phone, re-reading the email as the call went through.

“Hello.” Logan’s voice was groggy, and Olivia cringed.

“I woke you. I’m sorry.”

“Aye, but I don’t mind it. Waking to your voice is more a treat than a chore. I should be doing things anyway, not lying about in bed.”

Olivia felt a smile rise. He never failed to improve her mood. “I have news. We filed today. It’s official.”

“Well then. That’s progress. I feel better now, even though I know the worst is yet to come.”

“The worst may be the public side of it all,” Olivia said, settling into the professional tone that came naturally with discussing cases. “Depending on how Ashton reacts in the press. You’ll have to be prepared to hear some very ugly things.”

“I know Ashton, and yes, he has a very sharp tongue and a very short temper. I’ll be on my own in this. There’s nothing I can do but tell the truth.”

“I’d advise you to say nothing, actually. But we can talk about that later, as things progress. You and I and Ryan can meet and decide on how we want you to handle the publicity.”

“I want to see you again.” Logan’s voice was low, seductive, and Olivia’s heart started beating faster.”

“You just saw me,” she reminded him. “Something like six hours ago.”

“It’s been that long? Too long. Any time is too long.” She heard his soft laugh. “You bring out the romantic in my, Olivia. I’ll be writing love songs now in the wee hours instead of rock.”

A flush heated Olivia’s cheeks. “I’m sure your fans will appreciate that.”

“The only opinion I care about is yours.”

Someone walked past the closed door of her office, and the reminder that she was still at work pulled Olivia out of the giddy mood that Logan’s voice had prompted.

“I should go,” she said, reluctantly. “I’ll call you when I’m home, though. Come to my apartment and I’ll make you dinner. I’ll even find a bottle of Macallan for us.”

Logan laughed. “You cook. I’ll bring the Macallan.”

“Deal.”

Olivia ended the call and sat staring down at her phone for a moment, a smile still on her lips. Then she set it aside and turned to her case files once more.

The afternoon passed quickly. Nathan Hunter called to set up interviews for a new paralegal. Olivia mentally chastised herself for not calling Melissa and made a mental note to do that as soon as she got home.

It was almost five o’clock when her phone rang. She answered and was greeted by Ryan’s furious voice. “My office. Now.”

The line went dead.

Dread washed through Olivia. What did he want now? What else could he possibly blame me for?

A few minutes later, she was standing outside Ryan’s door. He was seated at his work table, with what looked like a stack of glossy photos.

“Come in,” he said tightly. “Close the door. Sit.”

Olivia didn’t dare to refuse. She stepped quickly inside and shut the door, taking the indicated seat with her knees pressed tight together and her hands knotted in her lap.

Ryan gathered the photos, tapping them square, and laid them on the table in front of Olivia. She looked down.

The image on top of the stack was Logan, with a pretty blonde woman Olivia thought she’d seen somewhere before. A model. Or a former model.

“Logan Graham. In all his glory.” Ryan leaned back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, and watched her.

Olivia lifted one hand to flip to the next photo. And then the next. Each of them showed Logan with a different woman. In all of them he had his arm around the woman; in many they were kissing. She felt a sharp spike of jealousy at seeing him like that, wrapped around someone else, but he’d told her there had been some—more than he liked to admit. And that he hadn’t been with anyone else since that first night. Olivia had believed him then, she couldn’t doubt him now. Even so, it was uncomfortable to see it all laid out in black and white.

“Where did you get these?” She looked up from the stack at Ryan’s blank expression. His blue eyes were cold. “And what do they have to do with anything?”

“They were delivered today by courier. I suspect from Jack Ashton, but there was no note attacked so I can’t be sure.”

Olivia put the stack down. “I don’t really see the point of this. Logan’s personal life isn’t part of the suit.”

Ryan pointed to the stack. “Keep going.”

Olivia flipped through the remaining photos. And there it was. The last photo in the set.

It was of her. Very clearly her. In the bar with Logan, almost sitting on his lap. They were locked in an embrace. One she remembered very well. She closed her eyes. She’d worried about pictures, but far too late.

“Care to explain?” Ryan’s voice held something more than professional disapproval. His jaw was tight and his words were uttered through clenched teeth. Olivia supposed the jealousy shouldn’t have surprised her.

“It was before he became my client.”

“And since he’s been your...our client? Has this relationship continued?”

“No.” Olivia felt a flush creep up her cheeks, something she knew happened when she was caught in a lie. She hoped Ryan would think it was just embarrassment at the photos and nothing more.

“Do you know what this will do to the case, much less your career, and the reputation of the firm if this goes public? It’s a serious conflict of interest. And if this package came from Ashton, which I strongly suspect it did, it will be splashed across the front of every tabloid willing to listen. You’re tanking the case before it’s even started.”

“But this was before the suit.” She knew her protests weren’t going to make any difference. Something was wrong. A nagging feeling she was missing a vital connection. But she just couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Is there anything that can be done? Any damage control the firm can do?”

Ryan stood, pacing in front of the window. The tension in his body was obvious, and Olivia felt her own body tense as she watched him, heard the rising anger in his voice.

“Damage control? Yes. For one, you can be taken off the case. Two, you can be let go from the firm. Any damage control starts with getting rid of you first, Olivia. You can’t expect us to sweep this under the rug. Sleeping with a client is a serious violation of ethics.”

“Ryan.” Her voice was louder than she expected.

He turned, scowling at her.

She knew what it was, the nagging inconsistency in her mind. Ryan had no way of knowing she was sleeping with Logan. He suspected the worst, leapt to that conclusion. But he had no proof. And the photo in his hand was not evidence of an affair, even as damning as it might seem.

She made the effort to lower her voice. “Listen. The photo was taken more than a month ago. And—” She held up the image. “I’m not sleeping with him in this photo. Based on this, why are you accusing me of it?”

“Because everyone else will too!” Ryan snapped. “You’re missing the point. This has nothing to do with me. You’ll be tried in the media, and you and I both know how that goes. It will destroy your client’s case.”

Olivia sighed. “Let’s wait. See how this plays out. You don’t know where these photos came from. Planning for the worst is one thing, but you’re convicting me without any evidence at all.” She tried to maintain some kind of professional calm, but her heart was pounding, and she knew her face was still flushed.

Ryan turned away from the window and Olivia rose as he stalked toward her, unwilling to be trapped in her chair again. He stopped, looking down at the photo of her with Logan.

“You’ve turned against me,” he said. “And that hurts, Olivia. I’ve done everything for you. Everything you’ve wanted, and you repay me with this?” Ryan rapped one finger on the photo. He looked up at her. “I didn’t think you were that kind of woman. You said you had a one-night stand, and this was it, wasn’t it? How stupid of me not to realize sooner. And you weren’t going to tell me, were you?”

With a swiftness that caught her off guard, Ryan had Olivia by the shoulders, squeezing painfully hard. “You’re throwing everything away. For him? When you could have had everything you wanted. Could have had the career your talent deserves.” His eyes narrowed. “You could have had me.”

He brought his lips own on hers, less a kiss than an attack, a brand of ownership. There was nothing Olivia could do but struggle in his grip, pushing at his chest with her hands.

When he broke away, she barely resisted the urge to spit in his face. She felt violated. Demeaned.

“You know this is what you want,” Ryan growled. “We both know it.”

His eyes were focused on hers, burning and intense, but not with passion. The interaction was outright conquest, predator holding prey, and Olivia did not like being the prey.

“I’ll... I’ll still file a complaint.”

Ryan’s laugh was harsh. “Go ahead. I’ve got incontestable evidence now of your morals and ethics, in black and white. You’ll be admitting to far more than you care to if you try to tell anyone about this.”

His grip tightened, fingers digging into her skin with bruising force. “You’re in a pretty serious situation here, and you’re not the one calling the shots. This isn’t running a few minutes late to a meeting, or letting your paralegal get out of hand. This is a serious mistake. And I’m the only one who can help you now. You know that.”

“Ryan. You’re hurting me.” The passive tone of her voice dismayed her. “Please.”

Ryan looked at her a moment longer, then released her arms. She took a step back and ran into the chair, breathing fast.

“Think about this, Olivia.” Ryan ran his fingers over the photo, lingering on her face, his voice eerily gentle. “Think about what you’ve done and what you can do. Your options are severely limited.” He turned, looking down at her. “Think about where you want to be in five years’ time, and the only person who can help you get there now.”

Olivia turned and bolted, fumbling open the door, running away from Ryan’s office. There was no one to see her; the cubicles of the secretaries and paralegals were empty, the offices around her dark.

Pushing open the stairway door, she ran down one flight of steps and finally stopped, leaning against the cool tile wall. Tears sprang into her eyes and she sank down on the top step, resting her face on her knees.

She’d hoped it would go away. That if she ignored Ryan’s advances he would get the picture. But that had only made him more intent on getting what he wanted. She’d threatened to file a complaint and he had just laughed. And now... How could she tell anyone? Ryan had something to hold over her, by her own admission. She’d slept with a client. She was still sleeping with the client. I’m such a fool.

She cried silently for a long time, until the sound of someone opening a door above her echoed down the stairwell. Straightening, she wiped her face, and hurried down the stairs to her office, shutting the door and locking it.

The message light was flashing on her phone, and with shaky hands she pressed the buttons, retrieving the message. It was Logan.

“Looking forward to dinner tonight. Don’t go to too much trouble, m'eudail. Whatever you make will be fine with me.”

She could hear the smile in his voice, and her heart did a little flip-flop. And then sank. She’d promised dinner. How could she see Logan now, after the afternoon in Ryan’s office?

But how could she not?

He answered his cell phone on the first ring and she gave him directions to her apartment.

“Are you sure you have time to cook? You’ve had a busy day, no doubt. I don’t want you slaving over a hot stove when there’s other things we could be doing.”

Hearing his voice, the teasing tone that promised far more to come, she relaxed, sitting back in her chair. “I like to cook. It’s calming. I never have anyone to cook for any more, though, since... Well. You know. So I’m looking forward to tonight.”

“As long as you’re not too tired. What time do you want me there, bearing the Macallan?”

Olivia glanced at her watch. “Let’s say seven thirty or so? Dinner about eight. And then whatever you have in mind.”

He laughed. “When it comes to you, mo leannan, there’s no end to the things I have in mind.”

“I’ll hold you to that, then.”

“See to it that you do,” Logan answered, voice gone rough and low.

He hung up, and Olivia smiled down at the phone. Whatever else was going on, at least she still had Logan.