"You're a million miles away," Erin whispered in Slade's ear. "Something you want to talk about?"

She'd just come out of his bathroom and was sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning over him. He turned to face her and gave her a sweet smile.

"Nah," he told her. "It's boring work stuff."

"You sure? Because I get the impression this is about a woman." She tilted her head to one side.

Slade sat up and leaned back against the headboard. "Erin, why would you say that or even think that?" He looked uncomfortable. "I didn't...I didn't..."

"No," she laughed. "You didn't call me by another name. It's just a feeling I got. Call it women's intuition. And it's perfectly okay. We established rules when this started, remember?"

He spent the next ten minutes filling her in on the enigma that was Bevin Marconi.

"Why wait until tomorrow morning to confront her, Slade? You should get dressed, look up her address, and drive straight to her house. This sounds important, and your whole case could be in jeopardy." Erin took the T-shirt off she'd been wearing and tossed it at him. "Here's your shirt back. Get dressed."

After pulling his shirt over his head, Slade sat up on the edge of the bed and reached for his jeans. He was putting them on when he stopped and gave her a look.

"Don't look at me like that," Erin insisted. With a big sigh, she said, "Slade Bear, you are a first-class gentleman. You already know I don't require obligatory cuddling and pillow talk. I never have, and I've let you know it more than once. I don't consider you leaving to see another woman as disrespectful." She gave him a sweet smile and reached for her clothes. "Besides, it's late and I need to get home. I have to get some laundry started or I'll be sending my kids to spring break camp naked."

He was standing in front of her. She stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his lips. "Go!"

Finding Bevin's address took less than sixty seconds and, before he knew it, Slade was standing at her front door. He glanced around her porch, admiring the colorful potted plants, bird house and swing that made the entrance to her home more than inviting. Bevin lived in what could best be described as a retro beach bungalow that had probably been built in the late forties. It had been tastefully restored and showcased what looked like original windows and even a white picket fence. He looked at his watch. It was almost midnight, and even though he could see lights on inside, he didn't know if he would be waking her. It didn't matter. He pressed the doorbell.

He thought he saw a shadow making its way to the front door and before he had time to contemplate it further, he heard two deadbolts unlatching and it swung open.

Bevin stood in front of him wearing light-blue pajamas, a fluffy zebra print bathrobe and matching slippers. He thought she was utterly adorable.

"I had a feeling I'd be seeing or hearing from you before tomorrow," Bevin said as she stepped to the side and waved him in. "You found it." She nodded at the folder Slade clutched in his hand.

"You shouldn't be so easy to find," he said gruffly. "Your mother puts a lot of people away. Seems you should take better precautions in case one of her haters decides to get back at her."

"Thank you for your concern, but I'm a grown woman and can handle myself," came her response from behind him. He heard her lock the door, and he turned around to face her. He raked his eyes over her and was surprised by his instant reaction to Bevin. He felt a stirring in his groin before snapping himself out of it when she pulled her robe closed. Swallowing thickly, he remembered his reason for being there.

Slade peppered her with questions, not giving her time to respond. "Why did you put that paper in my folder, Bevin? Is this some kind of trick? Are you trying to tank this case? Did your mother put you up to this? Am I being tested?"

Bevin held up her hands as if to ward him off. "Slow down. It's not what you think."

"It's an important piece of information," he said louder than he’d intended. "It is my ethical duty to report it to your mother, the judge, and the defense could move for a mistrial." They were still standing in her small foyer and Slade had broken out in a sweat. It felt like the walls were closing in on him.

"Except that you don't have to share it with the defense," she quietly informed him. "They already have it, Slade. They're withholding it from the prosecution.” She paused before muttering under her breath, “Well, at least one guy is.”

Slade tugged at the collar of his shirt. "How do you know this?"

"Let's just say it was something I stumbled on by accident. I work in the library, and most people don't know I'm Judge Marconi's daughter. You didn't know who I was." She tilted her head to one side and a stray lock of hair fell across her pink cheek. "People tend to be careless in their conversations. And interns tend to be even more careless about what they leave around and don't shred. It happens more than you'd think."

"Why would the defense hold back this information? It could set their client free!" His exasperation was obvious.

She shrugged nonchalantly and looked at the ceiling before offering, "Maybe somebody on the defense doesn't want to prove his innocence."

He nodded slowly as understanding sank in.

"No, this is not some kind of trick. No, I'm not trying to tank your case. No, my mother did not put me up to this. Are you serious about that one?" She rolled her eyes. "And finally, no, you are not being tested. I'll leave it up to you to decide how you want to handle it, and I'll never say another word about it. And should you decide to share it with the judge and the defense, I'll deny it came from me."

She crossed her arms and leaned back against the front door.

"Your mother doesn't like me," Slade confessed.

"She knows about your family. And she has serious contempt for bikers in particular."

Slade's eyes went wide, but Bevin continued. "Your father was supposedly a pretty bad guy. Maybe still is. Your brother has been in prison and I'm almost certain he was attached to a motorcycle club before he was arrested. Still might be now that he's out."

Slade exhaled slowly, deflating like a balloon. It was obvious Bevin had done her homework.

"Which makes my mother admire you even more."

He looked up and saw that Bevin was giving him a half grin.

"What about your father?" Slade questioned. "I can't imagine what kind of man is married to the judge." He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

"I don't have a father," Bevin answered a little too quickly. "Okay, that's not true. Obviously. I know a man impregnated my mother, but she won't talk about him. I know absolutely nothing. Apparently, it was only one encounter and the few times I've asked, I get the impression she had feelings for him. He could be dead or alive. He could be living around the corner." She gave a nonchalant shrug as she stepped to the side and unlocked the front door. She opened it. Their little impromptu rendezvous was apparently over.

"Thanks, Bevin," Slade told her, his tone sincere. "I think." He raked his hand through his hair as he walked outside. Turning to face her he said, "I'm going to be up all night now." Bevin nodded her understanding.

"So, tomorrow night?" He gave her a quirky smile.

"I don't think so," came her soft reply.

"Because of this?" He waved the folder at her.

"No." She leveled a gaze at him. "Because you reek of Chanel No. 5. And since I'm assuming it's not your cologne of choice, you've recently been with a woman. And you've been close enough that you're carrying her scent on you, so I can only assume you're cheating on her by asking me out for drinks and dinner tomorrow night."

Slade's jaw dropped.

"I don't date cheaters, and I certainly don't like playing second fiddle to another woman." Bevin wouldn't break eye contact. "I guess she wasn't available tomorrow night so I'm a fill-in."

Slade couldn't think of a comeback. How could he explain Erin? How could he explain the gorgeous woman he'd been sleeping with? But, Bevin was right. His shirt smelled like Erin because Erin had been wearing it. And less than an hour ago he'd been enjoying their tryst, but his heart hadn't been in it, and his mind had been elsewhere. He hadn't been able to get Drew Barrymore's twin sister out of his head, even while he'd been buried deep inside another woman. A woman who wasn’t just his lover, but a trusted friend as well.

"And your lack of response tells me I'm right. Good night, Slade," came her firm dismissal.

Without giving him time to reply to her last comment, Bevin shut the door, locked it and turned off the porch light, leaving Slade in the dark.