Peña had a baby face that made him look younger than he probably was, which I guessed was close to my age. Williams was a petite, curvy black woman, with sharp cop eyes that told me she’d seen things I would never want to.
I’d asked them to wait in the living room and they had followed me instead. That made me feel hunted, which I’m sure was part of their intention.
“It’s no trouble.” I gave up trying to be classy about the half-and-half and just set the carton on the island. “And I’m waiting for my attorney to arrive, so there’s really not much else for me to do in the meantime.”
Officer Williams eyed me coolly, as if she were wondering why I felt the need for counsel.
I didn’t have to justify myself but knew it wouldn’t hurt to let them know why I was cautious. “My dad’s on the job in California. He’d chew me out if I didn’t follow his advice.”
I grabbed the box of sugar I’d dug out of the pantry and set it on the tray before moving it all over to the island.
“Where in California?” Peña asked, grabbing a mug and taking his coffee black.
“Oceanside.”
“San Diego area, right? Nice.”
“It is, yes.”
Williams took her coffee with a splash of half-and-half and a whole lot of sugar, which she poured straight from the box. “Is Mr. Cross here?”
“He’s in a meeting.”
She kept her gaze on me as she lifted her mug to her lips. “Who was the guy leaving when we came up?”
The deliberate casualness of her tone made me glad I’d sent word to Arash. I didn’t believe for a minute that the question was just small talk. “Blaire Ash. He’s the interior designer working on some renovations we’re doing.”
“You live here?” Peña asked. “We stopped by an apartment on the Upper West Side we heard was yours.”
“I’m in the process of moving in.”
He leaned into the island and looked around. “Nice place.”
“I think so, too.”
Williams caught my eye. “Have you been dating Gideon Cross long?”
“She’s married to me, actually,” Gideon said, appearing in the doorway.
Peña straightened, swallowing quickly. Williams set her mug down with enough force to spill some coffee.
Gideon’s gaze swept over all of us, then locked with mine. He looked perfect, his suit pristine, his tie immaculately knotted, his dark hair framing that savagely beautiful face. There was the faintest shadow of stubble around his sensual mouth. That, and the sexy length of his hair, lent a dangerous edge to his otherwise civilized appearance.
Not even the two cops standing between us could diminish the surge of hunger that flooded me at the sight of him.
I watched as he came toward me, shrugging out of his suit jacket as if it were the most natural thing to have two of New York’s finest there to question me. He tossed it over the back of a bar stool at the island and moved beside me, taking my coffee out of my hands and pressing a kiss to my temple.
“Gideon Cross,” he said, extending his hand to both officers. “And this is our counsel, Arash Madani.”
It was then I noticed that Arash had entered the kitchen behind my husband. The officers, as focused on Gideon as I was, didn’t seem to have noticed him either.
Supremely confident, with dark good looks and easy charm, Arash swept into the room and took over, introducing himself with a wide smile. The disparity between him and Gideon was striking. Both men were elegant, handsome, and poised. Both were courteous. But Arash was accessible, relatable. Gideon was imposing and remote.
I looked up at my husband, watching as he drank from my mug. “Would you like some black coffee instead?”
His hand swept down my back, his eyes on the officers and Arash. “I’d love some.”
“It’s good that you’re here, Mr. Cross,” Peña said. “Dr. Lucas also filed a complaint against you.”
“Well, that was fun,” Arash said an hour later, after showing the officers out to the elevator.
Gideon shot him a look as he deftly opened a bottle of malbec. “If that’s your idea of entertainment, you need to get out more.”
“I was planning on doing that tonight—with a very hot blonde, I might add—until I got your call.” Arash pulled out one of the island bar stools and sat.
I scooped up all the mugs and moved them to the sink. “Thank you, Arash.”
“You’re most welcome.”
“I bet you don’t step into courtrooms all that often, but I want to be there the next time you do. You’re awesome.”
He grinned. “I’ll be sure to let you know.”
“Don’t thank him for doing his job,” Gideon muttered. He poured the dark red wine into three glasses.
“I’m thanking him for doing his job well,” I countered, still impressed by the way Arash worked. The attorney was charismatic and disarming, as well as humble when it served his purposes. He put everyone at ease, then let them do the talking while he figured out his best angle of attack.
Gideon scowled at me. “What the hell do you think I’m paying him so much to do? Fuck up?”
“Dial it back, ace,” I said calmly. “Don’t let that bitch get to you. And don’t take that tone with me. Or your friend.”
Arash winked at me. “I think he’s jealous you like me so much.”
“Ha!” Then I saw the way Gideon glared at Arash and my brows went up. “Seriously?”
“Get back on topic. How are you fixing this?” my husband challenged, looking daggers at his friend over the rim of his wineglass.
“Fixing your fuck-up?” Arash asked, his brown eyes bright with silent laughter. “You both provided Anne Lucas the ammunition for this by going to her place of employment on two separate occasions. You’re damned lucky she embellished her story with a little assault accusation against Eva. If she’d just stuck with the truth, she’d have you both by the throats.”
I went to the fridge and started pulling out items to throw together for dinner. I’d been kicking myself for being stupid all evening. It would never have occurred to me to think she might voluntarily reveal her sordid extramarital affair with Gideon. She was supposed to be an upstanding member of the mental health community and her husband was a well-regarded pediatrician.
I’d underestimated her. And I hadn’t listened to Gideon when he had warned me she was dangerous. The result was that she had a legitimate complaint that first Gideon had barged into her office during a therapy session, and then I’d ambushed her at work again two weeks later.
Arash accepted the glass Gideon slid briskly over to him. “The district attorney may or may not decide to go after her for falsely reporting an incident, but she damaged her credibility by accusing Eva of putting hands on her when security footage proves otherwise. Very fortunate, you having that, by the way.”
Learning that Gideon did indeed own the building Anne Lucas worked in hadn’t surprised me too much. My husband needed control, and having that sort of hold over the businesses of both the Lucases was just like him.
“It shouldn’t have to be said,” Arash went on, “but when confronted by crazy, Do Not Engage.”
Gideon arched his brow at me. It chafed, but he was right. He’d told me so.
The attorney shot warning glances at both of us. “I’ll work on getting her erroneous assault complaint dismissed and see if I can leverage it to our advantage by filing a counterclaim of harassment. I’ll also try for protection orders for both of you and Cary Taylor, but regardless, you all need to stay far, far away from her.”
“Absolutely,” I assured him, taking the opportunity to palm my husband’s fine, taut ass as I passed behind him.
He shot me a wry glance over his shoulder. I blew him a kiss.
It tickled me that he would feel even the slightest bit of jealousy. The most impressive thing about Arash was that he held his own next to Gideon; he certainly couldn’t surpass him. While I’d seen that Arash could be every bit as threatening as my husband, it wasn’t his default setting.