My newest client had booked a restaurant where the menus didn't list prices.

I considered that a warning.

Vincent Bellini stood when I approached. Forty-two, broad-shouldered, perfect charcoal suit, dark hair graying at the temples. He looked like a man who had never been told no.

“Ms. Ward.” He pulled out my chair. “You came.”

“You're paying me to.”

“Most people pretend they're pleased to see me.”

“Most people aren't billing you by the hour.”

He laughed. Unfortunately, it was a very nice laugh.

I put my folder on the table. “We have a hearing Thursday. I need to know who had access to those accounts.”

“You could have asked over the phone.”

“I did. You invited me to dinner.”

“I wanted to find out whether you're always this difficult.”

“Only with clients who avoid my questions.”

“Then I'm in trouble.”

That was probably true. Vincent owned several suspiciously profitable businesses. I knew his reputation, and I knew he had a right to a defense. The fees didn't hurt.

For twenty minutes, we discussed bank transfers and an employee whose testimony had changed twice. Vincent was surprisingly attentive. When I challenged his timeline, he studied the page instead of getting offended.

“Don't tell me what you think I want to hear,” I warned.

“I wouldn't dream of it.”

“You've done it three times.”

He grinned. “I see why you came recommended.”

“Who recommended me?”

“Someone who lost an argument to you.”

“That doesn't narrow it down.”

He laughed again.

Dinner arrived. Vincent had a gift for making business feel like a date.

“You remembered the judge's name,” I said.

“I listen when someone's interesting.”

“Do you practice lines like that?”

“Did it work?”

“I'll let you know when the invoice clears.”

His eyes creased at the corners. I looked down at my notes before he caught me admiring him.

Getting involved with a client could wreck my career. Enjoying his attention, though? Surely that was allowed.

At least, that was what I told myself.

When we finished, rain was coming down hard.

“My driver will take you home,” Vincent offered.

“I drove.”

“He can bring you back for your car tomorrow.”

“That's wildly unnecessary.”

“So is getting soaked for the sake of proving a point.”

My heels were killing me. I accepted.

Vincent walked me to a waiting black sedan, holding his umbrella so carefully over my head that his own shoulder got wet.

“I enjoyed tonight, Tessa,” he said.

“Most people don't call discussing conspiracy charges an enjoyable evening.”

“Most people haven't hired you.”

God. He was good.

I smiled despite myself, and he opened the door for me.

In the back seat, I checked my reflection in the window like an idiot. Three professional meetings with this man, and apparently I was sixteen again.

Get a grip, Ward.

The driver dropped me outside my apartment. I thanked him and hurried toward the entrance, holding my handbag above my hair.

I was digging for my keys when someone grabbed my arm.

“Hey!”

He pulled me backward, away from the light. I screamed, but a hand clamped over my mouth. I swung my bag, catching him hard enough that he cursed.

“Stop fighting,” he hissed. “Just—fuck, stop!”

Absolutely not.

I kicked his leg. He stumbled, and for one glorious second I thought I was free.

Then a vehicle door opened behind us. He shoved me inside and climbed in after me.

I tried to scream again. He covered my mouth with something and fumbled to secure it. His hands were shaking.

“I'm not going to hurt you,” he said.

A little late for that reassurance.

My pulse hammered. I had no idea where he was taking me or whether anyone had seen.

He dragged off his hood. Messy sandy-brown hair, stubble, gray-green eyes. He was breathing almost as hard as I was.

“Stay quiet,” he told me. “Your boyfriend's going to answer his fucking phone tonight.”

My boyfriend?

What the fuck was he talking about?

Well, that evening took a turn. Were you falling for Vincent’s charm too, or did something about him seem off from the beginning? Tell us what you think in the comments. And what on earth does that stranger want with Tessa?