Why did she have to step into that elevator that morning? More importantly, why did I care? In New York City, women are a dime a dozen. They’re good for one thing and they can do it on their backs or on their knees. I’m one of New York City’s top criminal defense lawyers.
Compared to keeping the guilty out of prison, talking a woman out of her dress is a piece of cake. I knew the secret, my father taught me well. Use them for your pleasure and let them go before attachment sets in. They always want more.
She refused to make it simple. I loved a challenge, but not this one. She was different. I had a past that threatened to resurface if I wasn’t careful. A past that could destroy me. The word relationship wasn’t even part of my vocabulary. Love was someone else’s four-letter word. So how the hell did she make me care?
How did she become the only thing that I desired? I knew my touch was poison and I didn’t want to hurt her but, I couldn’t stay away. How can I run away from my past? How can I protect her from all that is evil? She doesn’t know what I’ve done. But now she’s involved, and I have to protect her from the one person that will destroy her…me.