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His clerk met him outside the courtroom, handing him a message from Ric Donato. He couldn’t make lunch today. Disappointing. Mitch always enjoyed meeting up with Ric. And Johnny. Although their lives had travelled very different paths since their time at Gundamurra, the three of them had remained good friends over the years.
They shared the common bond of Patrick Maguire’s influence in setting them on the paths they’d chosen—each to their own bent. And they understood where each other was coming from and why. Not too many people ever achieved that kind of understanding.
It came from living together in constant proximity for six months. There were few distractions in the outback. It was a place for talking, chewing over things, reflecting on what had meaning and what didn’t, sharing each other’s visions of the world. And dreams.
Ric had become an award-winning photo-journalist—amazing stuff he’d shot with his camera. Retired from the job now and running an international photographic agency. Very successfully.
Johnny was a star with his country music, currently touring the U.S.—a millionaire many times over with most of his recordings going platinum.
Mitch was the only one whose chosen career kept him in Australia. The halls of justice called to him and Sydney was his city. Still, it was great to catch up with the others when they were in town. He wondered what had caused Ric to miss their lunch today—had to be some business problem.
‘Cancel the booking at the restaurant,’ he instructed his clerk. ‘I’ll buy some sandwiches, eat in the park, get some fresh air.’
If he couldn’t have Ric’s company to dilute the cold nastiness of this case, he’d prefer to be outdoors, soaking up some sunshine.
Sitting in the park reminded Mitch of his own mother—the countless times he’d pushed her wheelchair to the small park near where they’d lived at Surry Hills. Every Saturday and Sunday if it was fine. Fresh air and sunshine, being outside, watching other people, spending time together, giving Jenny a break so she felt free to go and do her own thing—which was what his mother had always encouraged for both of them, hating the idea of her disability holding them back from pursuing goals of their own.
She hadn’t tried to rule the lives of her children, not like the woman he’d just pilloried on the witness stand, meting out punishment when her son hadn’t measured up to her predetermined mould for him. If anything, his own mother had been too self-effacing, not even wanting to ask for what was her rightful due.
It was good that she’d lived long enough to see him called to the bar. She’d been very proud of that achievement. And she’d seen Jenny married to a good guy, too. Both her children doing well for themselves. If he ever had children himself…well, that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.
He’d dallied with the idea of marrying Harriet. They shared the same profession. She was a smart, witty woman and he’d generally enjoyed her company. Enjoyed the sex with her, too. Until he’d found out she was also having sex with one of the judges, laughing it off as simply a strategy to give her an edge in court. Winning was what Harriet was about. Winning at all costs. She’d probably thought winning him would be a feather in her cap. She’d certainly been angling for marriage.
No way now, Mitch thought. If he ever married, he’d want honesty in the relationship. Loyalty, too. As for love…well, Harriet had engaged his mind, but had she ever really engaged his heart? Mitch wasn’t sure what love was between a man and a woman. Attraction, yes. A sexual high, yes. But love…maybe he’d become too disciplined in controlling emotion to feel a deep abiding passion for a woman.
He strolled back to the court house, gearing himself up for another competitive round with Harriet who’d no doubt be objecting to every tack he took with her client. His clerk met him on the steps with another message—this one from Ric’s executive assistant in Sydney, a woman by the name of Kathryn Ledger, asking him to return her call on a matter of urgency.
Was Ric in trouble?
A broken lunch appointment, no excuse given.
Now an urgent call from his office.
Mitch glanced at his watch. Still ten minutes before he was due in court. He whipped out his mobile phone, retreated down the steps for a quick bit of privacy and called the number written on the message slip.
‘Kathryn Ledger,’ came the brisk response.
‘Mitch Tyler. I don’t have much time. What’s the problem?’
‘In a nutshell…Ric received photographic evidence this morning that a woman he knows is a battered wife. He went straight to her home and took her out of the situation. He’s flown her off somewhere in Johnny Ellis’s plane.’
‘Good God!’ Mitch muttered in disbelief.
‘The husband was having her watched by a private investigator who lost their trail at our basement car park when Ric switched cars.’ The incredible tale went on. ‘Her husband has since turned up at our office, harassing the staff for information. I gave him the name of the restaurant where you and Ric were supposed to meet for lunch, but he’s bound to come back when he doesn’t find Ric there. My instructions were to call you if there was trouble.’
‘A woman he knew?’ Mitch queried.
‘He called her Lara Seymour and said they went back a long way.’
Ric’s Lara? From when he was sixteen?
Mitch’s mind boggled.
Could a youthful passion last this long?
Stealing a Porsche to impress a girl was one thing. Stealing a married woman from her husband—eighteen years later!—was one hell of a leap.
‘But the name isn’t Lara Seymour now,’ the informing voice went on. ‘It’s Lara Chappel…married to Gary Chappel, son of Victor Chappel. You know who I mean?’
Gary Chappel!
Mitch was momentarily poleaxed by shock.
‘Mr Tyler? The Chappel medical clinic and nursing home empire? We’re talking big money and power here. And we’ve got trouble.’
Mitch’s trapped breath hissed out as his mind clicked to action stations. ‘I know exactly what you mean, Ms Ledger. Do you still have this photographic evidence?’
‘Yes. Five copies in the safe.’
‘I’ll be sending two security men to escort you to my chambers. Do not leave your office until they arrive. Bring one copy of the photograph with you. Once you are safely in my chambers, wait in my private office for me. I’ll join you as soon as I’m free. I cannot emphasise enough…follow these instructions to the letter, Ms Ledger. Believe me, you have big trouble.’
‘Thank you, Mr Tyler. Rest assured I’ll follow your advice.’
‘Good!’
Efficient and sensible, Mitch thought as he hurried back to his clerk. As she should be, given her executive position in Ric’s business. All the same, he was impressed by her quick summary of the situation and her no-quibbling response to the course of action he’d outlined.
He told his clerk what he wanted done, adding, ‘This is urgent business. Get the security men there pronto, and tell them Ms Ledger is carrying merchandise that is invaluable.’
Definitely invaluable, Mitch thought with grim satisfaction. Legal evidence against Gary Chappel! No way could that bastard wriggle out of this one. Or buy his way out. Not with Mitch Tyler having a controlling hand.
Harriet signalled him aside just as he was about to enter the courtroom. Even with a barrister’s wig covering her silky blond hair, she still looked beautiful—flawless creamy skin, her full-lipped sensuous mouth painted a glossy red, a fine aristocratic nose breathing fire while her big grey eyes smoked with angry frustration.
‘Where have you been?’ she demanded.
Not at her beck and call any more.
He raised a mocking eyebrow. ‘Out. Is your client ready to settle?’
‘She’s ready to deal.’
‘The only deal on the table is what I nominated from the beginning.’
‘She won’t come at that.’
‘Then I’ll see you both in court.’
Harriet reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his robe, halting him. ‘This is blackmail, Mitch.’
‘No. It’s exposure.’
Which was what Gary Chappel deserved, too.
Though it probably wouldn’t work out that way.
Better to hold the sword over his head if the aim was to keep everyone free of trouble.
‘You’re painting this black and white, not accepting any greys. And there are greys,’ Harriet insisted vehemently.
‘Then prove it to the jury.’
‘You know damned well you’ve got their sympathy.’
‘I wonder why.’
With that mocking retort he pulled his robe free of her grasp and headed into the courtroom, prepared to fight on but suspecting he wouldn’t have to. That little contretemps had sounded like a last-ditch effort to get him to bend a little, win something for her client, which, of course, would be a face-saving exercise for Harriet. Total defeat didn’t sit well with her. Never would. Greys suited her better.
No sooner was everyone settled in the courtroom than Harriet made the request to approach the bench. In very short order, Mitch was informed that Harriet’s client had conceded and full settlement was agreed upon. The case was over, bar the paperwork.
Normally Mitch would have felt enormously gratified by this result but he found himself impatient with having to tie up all the ends, deal with the media, and see his client off with the courtesy due to her. This fight had been won. Gary Chappel was now in the antagonist’s corner and Mitch’s mind was already occupied with the fight ahead.
Kathryn Ledger was no more than a name and a voice to him. He thought of her only as a source, bringing him the ammunition he’d use to attack. That she was also a woman held no relevance at all until he entered his private office and came face-to-face with her.
CHAPTER TWO
IT WAS like a bolt of electric energy charging into the room. Kathryn felt as though she’d been zapped off the chair she’d been sitting on, her body lifting onto her feet, straightening up, instinctively meeting the force of the man head on, while staring at him in wide-eyed shock.
This was Mitch Tyler?
A barrister?
She’d always thought of barristers as rather lofty and effete academics in fusty wigs, full of their own self-importance. Yet here she was, faced with a dynamic entity who literally bristled with masculinity, so much so her knees felt weak. And her heart was fluttering.
Tall, dark and handsome, but not like Ric Donato. Not like Ric at all. Any woman would call her boss drop-dead gorgeous, but this man didn’t come out of any romantic mould. Power was the only word that came to Kathryn’s dazed mind. He had a strong square jaw, very firmly delineated mouth, a sharp triangular shaped nose, straight black brows, and beneath them, stunning blue eyes that burned straight into Kathryn’s like twin lasers, totally transfixing her.
She stared at him and he stared right back at her. Kathryn couldn’t gather wits enough to say a word. The mutual stare went on so long, she began to wonder if he doubted her identity, though surely his clerk would have told him she was waiting in here where he’d told her to wait.
Mitch was thinking Ric must be mad. He had this woman right under his nose and he ran off with someone else?
She was like Tinkerbell…magic…a pixie face with those wonderful green eyes and the gamine hairstyle, like a flyaway cap of burnished copper, a lovely pouty mouth that was made for kissing, an hourglass figure poured into a curve-hugging green suit, the skirt delectably short enough to show off long, shapely legs…how could Ric be immune to such gut-tugging femininity? Mitch was struggling to remember this was a professional visit.
‘Mr Tyler…?’
Her voice sounded husky, uncertain…and incredibly sexy.
‘Mitch,’ he said forcefully, deciding Kathryn Ledger was not his client and he didn’t have to keep a professional distance. She was here on Ric’s behalf. And Lara Chappel’s. He propelled himself forward, offering his hand. ‘Good to meet you, Kathryn.’ Lovely name. Rolled off his tongue as though he’d been saying it for centuries.
‘Mitch,’ she repeated, looking at him wonderingly as her hand slipped into his.
The top of her head only came up to his chin so her face was tilted up. There were sparkly gold specks around the rim of her green irises like an explosion of fireworks. Her mouth was still slightly parted from having spoken his name and Mitch had to fight the urge to bend down and taste it. Her hand was soft, dainty, and he hung onto it because it was the only touch he could sensibly allow himself at this point. They’d barely met.
‘No trouble coming here?’ he asked, pushing his mind to get back on track—the whole purpose of her presence in his office.
‘No. Thank you for the escorts.’ A swift little smile. ‘They certainly made me feel safe.’
‘Good!’ He smiled back, feeling a wild joy in having protected this woman. And he’d go on protecting her, whatever it took. ‘You’ve brought the photo?’
‘Yes. In my bag.’
She nodded to a many-zippered beige handbag resting by the chair she’d been sitting on. Mitch reluctantly released her hand, freeing her to get the critical photo for him. Losing the physical link made him realise how possessive he was feeling toward Kathryn Ledger—amazingly so. He couldn’t recall any other woman ever having such an impact on him.
He watched her lift the bag onto his desk as he mentally examined the primitive instincts she stirred. Control was second nature to him. Only once in his life had he completely lost it, wanting to beat Jenny’s rapist to a pulp, and he might well have done so if he hadn’t been forcibly restrained.
Control the anger and channel the energy into more effective strategies, Patrick had advised. But this…what he was feeling now with Kathryn Ledger…was completely outside Mitch’s experience and he couldn’t find any control mechanisms for it. His entire body seemed to be buzzing with excitement.
Her left hand moved to open a zipper on the bag. It was like a punch in the heart, seeing the ring on her third finger. A ring with a flashy solitaire diamond. An engagement ring!
She was taken.
Another man had already claimed her as his.
Anger smashed through the shock. It wasn’t right. It couldn’t be right. He’d fight to…
No!
Mitch shook his head clear of the crazy surge of testosterone, enforcing reason. Kathryn Ledger had willingly given herself to someone else. Someone she obviously wanted to marry. Her choice was made. And, of course, Ric had respected it. She wasn’t available to him any more than she was available to Mitch.
Checkmate!
He had to back off.
Never mind that it felt wrong.
She had come to him for help. Nothing more. He had to get his mind focused on the job and forget everything else.
Kathryn was trying desperately to get herself together. It didn’t help that her hand was still tingling from Mitch Tyler’s touch, that her legs felt shaky, and she could barely concentrate on opening her bag and extracting the telling photograph. She felt as though she’d been knocked completely out of kilter.
For a moment there, she’d even been wondering what it might be like if Mitch Tyler kissed her. Jeremy—her partner for the past year!—had been totally blotted out of her mind. The reason for being here in these legal chambers had been lost, too. It was as though she’d been caught up in some magnetic force-field that shut out everything else but the man holding her hand, and she was still quivering inside from the unbelievably strong tug of his attraction.
Her fingers closed over the photograph and she took a deep breath before turning to hand it to him. It was a relief that his gaze instantly fastened on the image of Lara and Gary Chappel, giving her more time to recover her composure. Better still when he stepped away from her, moving around to the other side of his desk, putting considerable distance between them, enough distance to ease the tightness in her chest.
‘Thank you,’ he said, flicking a look at her as he gestured to the chair she’d vacated. ‘Please sit down again.’
She grabbed her bag off the desk and gratefully retreated even further, settling herself before risking another glance at him. He’d sat down, too, occupying the big leather chair behind his desk, studying the photograph she’d given him, his straight black brows lowered in a frown.
His dark hair was also straight, very thick and cut short in graduated layers to stay neat. He had neat ears, as well, almost no lobes like her own, but curved around the top, not pointy. He wouldn’t have been teased about having pixie ears when he was a kid. She couldn’t imagine anyone ever teasing Mitch Tyler. One look from those powerful blue eyes…
A convulsive little shiver ran down her spine. He had to be dynamite in a courtroom. She wondered how Ric had come to know him. They looked to be about the same age—mid-thirties—yet she couldn’t see how their lives would have touched. As far as she knew, her boss had not gone through university. Maybe somewhere in his years as a photo-journalist he’d sought legal assistance. Whatever…Ric Donato trusted this man and Kathryn could see why he would. In any kind of fight, she’d want Mitch Tyler on her side.
