ILLEGALLY YOURS

By Kate Meader

On Sale January 22nd | Ballantine/Loveswept

Rule #1: Never fall for your client.
Rule #2: Never fall for your client’s fiercely protective, smoking hot sister-in-law.

I’m the kind of guy who believes that everyone deserves the best legal representation money can buy—which just so happens to be me, Lucas Wright. Give me your henpecked, your cuckolded, your irreconcilable differences yearning to break free! And if you’re the bad guy in your marriage, that’s cool too. Your green is as good as anyone’s.

Tell that to Trinity Jones. It’s my job to destroy her sister—the soon-to-be ex-wife of my a-hole of a client—and Trinity’s “big sis” instincts are dialed up to the max. I admire that. I admire her. But she won’t stop me from representing my client to the best of my ability.

Not even if my chemistry with Trinity is undeniable. Not even if we can’t keep our hands off each other. Not even if she injects life into a heart assumed to be long dead.

Because when faced with a choice between love and duty, the job will always win—or at least that’s what I thought before I met Trinity . . . and suddenly conflict of interest never felt so right.

Excerpt:

I’m on the periphery of both these conversations, wanting to contribute but having too little expertise, when I’m nudged by an elbow.

“Bad luck there, Ms. Jones,” Lucas says. Whispers, really, which makes it all seem so much naughtier.

“I wouldn’t say that. You won fair and square with your oddly encyclopedic knowledge about a children’s book. Not weird. Not weird at all.”

Something flashes across his face, a shadow that disappears as quickly as it came. “Can I help it if I’m a master of all trades?”

“Hmm, not the phrase.”

“It is when we’re talking about me. I’m very good. At most everything.”

“Modest, too.”

He tilts his head. “You have problems with self-confidence?”

“Just braggarts.”

“Don’t you consider yourself an expert in whiskey? Don’t you advertise yourself as such? What’s the point in pretending you’re only somewhat knowledgeable at something when you’re the best there is?”

I seek to unpack that. “People are put off by overconfidence,” I say carefully.

“Should I substitute men for people in that sentence?”

A foreign heat warms my chest while Lucas’s blue-on-blue eyes cut through me. My friends don’t condescend about my ambitions, but my family—my sister—has never really understood why I chose my profession (So manly! Unless it’s a strategy to find a man? Is it?).

I respond with, “A whiskey sommelier isn’t a traditional job for a woman.”

“Harry Potter’s not the traditional reading material for a divorce lawyer,” he shoots back.

“So why do you love it?”

“Why do you love whiskey?”

I think of my granddad and the time when I felt safe and secure. “Nostalgia. Longing. Soothes the senses and feeds the soul. It also feels good to . . . understand an entire world of taste. Of sensation. It’s a world I can dive into and control.” I shake my head. “I’m not making much sense.”

But I am to Lucas. I can tell what I’ve said has struck a chord somewhere deep inside him. A private place I’d like to visit. I curl my hand into a fist to stop from touching him.

“You, too?” I whisper, the intimacy of the moment shocking me. “With Harry Potter?”

Now his smile is tinged with sadness. “Me, too.”

My heart contracts. Behind the clown in the ridiculous plaid pants is a man in pain. Worse, I want to know him.

Lusting after him was safer. Despising him after discovering his mission was logical. But this? Peeling back a layer in Lucas’s good-time-lad façade gives me chills.

“I should go,” I say, which conveniently coincides with Gid and Pete offering me a ride home.

Lucas nods, pulls away. Something shudders between us, and I tell myself it’s for the best. “Yes, you should. See you around, Trinity.”

Not if I can help it. I’m starting to realize that Lucas Wright is a hundred times more dangerous than I previously thought.

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About the author:

Originally from Ireland, USA Today bestselling author Kate Meader cut her romance reader teeth on Maeve Binchy and Jilly Cooper novels, with some Harlequins thrown in for variety. Give her tales about brooding mill owners, oversexed equestrians, and men who can rock an apron or a fire hose, and she’s there. Now based in Chicago, she writes sexy contemporary romance with alpha heroes and strong heroines who can match their men quip for quip.

Synopsis:

Could Laura’s attempt to rebuild an entire campus be the reason for her destroyed relationships?

Abigail and Bree made it through their freshman year with the help of their devoted best friend, Laura Chase.

Only wanting to help her friends and her community, Laura lands a job at the college radio station as the first female DJ in over a decade. But even the best of intentions can come with a price. As Laura attempts to bring her friends peace, she uncovers further lies and deceptions. Could a costly cover-up hurt her friends even more than the Campus Creeper did?

What Laura doesn’t know is that, while she has been faithfully watching out for others, someone has finally noticed her. Will Laura’s new romance be the root cause of a divided campus, or will her alliances bring together a university that has lived in fear for over a year?

Join Laura and her friends at Onondaga State University as they wash their hands of their unforgettable freshman year and enter their sophomore year a bit wiser and with something to prove.

Excerpt:

“Can I ask what you said to her tonight?”

“I asked her to leave me alone. I’m trying to do something good, and I can’t have them getting in the way,” she whispers.

“I’m proud of you for speaking up for yourself. I’m sorry if I’m the root cause.”

She releases a heavy sigh. “You’re not. But where were you tonight…at the party?”

“I saw you through the crowd and was coming to say hello. I was struck by what unfolded in front of me and figured the last person either of you needed coming onto the scene was me.”

“It all comes back to you,” she whispers.

He props himself up on one arm, glaring at her through the darkness. “Does it? Because, so far, I’m not feeling it at all.”

In confusion, Laura replies, “Not feeling it at all? I don’t know what…”

“What I mean is, if it all comes back to me, then why am I the one sleeping alone every night?”

“I didn’t know you were,” she says as she swallows hard.

“Of course you did,” he quips.

“Colin.”

“Laura.”

Feeling feisty, Laura jabs back, “No, I didn’t know that. I just know you’re not sleeping with me.”

“Ha,” he growls. “You’re blaming me?”

Regretting her words, she mumbles, “No, of course not.”

But he isn’t going to let her off easily. “So, Spring Fling, I should have taken advantage of you? And a few weeks ago…just screwed you to get it over with, out of my system? Is that the type of guy you want me to be?” She starts to answer, but he continues, “That’s not an actual question, Laura.”

If he could see her cheeks burning red, he’d know for certain, he’s caught her at her weakest.

Quickly, he gets up.

“Where are you going? Be careful.”

“Have I not tried, Laura?” he barks.

“What?”

He stands on the roof like a giant before her, yet his slumped shoulders tell her he feels small. “I know that this has not been ideal. Believe me, you don’t have to tell me twice. But, one minute, you’re in my bedroom, and then the next minute, you’re practically running away from me. Only I don’t hear a word from you in between. Nothing. Radio silence.”

Right when I thought this day, night, could not possibly get any worse. Add Colin to the list of people I can’t seem to get it right with. It’s a long list. Longer than it’s ever been for me. I’m barely hanging on. I’m in my own head and with a complete loss of words for the living and breathing in front of me. I have nothing left.

Laura watches in disbelief as Colin makes his way off of the roof and back into his house. She sits on the blanket, pulling her knees up to her chest, rocking slightly, like a child wishing away the pain. As she closes her eyes, a flash runs across her memory bank, back to the first time she met Colin. The passionate blows he bestowed upon the papers and his desk at the station. The sadness she felt in the room. He looked shattered, like the broken glass on the floor.

He carries the same expression tonight.

The hurt that we do to each other, the ones we claim to care for the most, but why? Is it because we are merely humans? Humans with expectations that cannot be fulfilled? How is it that we expect ourselves to be so perfect, without a flaw, yet we are surprised when that is all we are? Flawed.

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