She’d read somewhere that after the first trimester, a woman’s sex drive soared. Well, she’d chalked that up to a myth. What could possibly be sexy about swelling boobs, a big belly and a temperamental bladder? Turned out all she needed to shatter that belief was encounter Coltrane Dennison. Now, she couldn’t turn her damn body off. Just one thought about his haunted, amber eyes, that wide, carnal mouth with its slightly fuller bottom lip, that stubborn, solid jaw and large, rangy, sexy body... She stifled a shiver that whipped through her like a hot flash.
She missed sex.
Not just the act. She missed the intimacy, the cuddling, the connection. Physical attraction had never been an issue between her and Daniel—hence the one night together that had landed her here—but in the last year or so of their marriage, that quiet closeness had been absent.
One glance at Cole on that rise behind the church had reminded her of its absence.
One touch from Cole in her kitchen had made her ache for it.
She shook her head, attempting to clear it of the thoughts that had her nipples standing at attention and the sensitive flesh between her thighs pulsing in equal parts sympathy and deprived outrage. Her body hovered on the verge of a full-out rebellion, and she didn’t have time for that now. Not with a pregnancy, a brooding ex-husband and reacclimating to a new town. She needed help more than an orgasm.
But, dammit, the two were running neck ’n’ neck.
Good thing she could handle the latter herself.
She approached the wide, cherrywood front desk. It was empty. Frowning, she leaned forward and to the side, peering at the dark computer monitor. Either the receptionist had stepped away or no one manned the lobby today.
“Damn,” she whispered. What now? Someone had to be here because the entrance was unlocked. And she’d spotted Cole’s truck in the parking space out front. Did she leave and wait until a later time? Like when she could schedule an appointment.
No.
The answer boomed in her head, immediate and adamant. The nerves writhing in her belly like a nest of snakes wouldn’t allow her to wait another five minutes, much less a couple of days.
Before she could talk herself out of how impulsive and rude this might be, she strode down the hall to the left of the receptionist’s desk. Several closed doors marked the way, but only one at the end of the corridor bore a gold nameplate with Coltrane A. Dennison etched into it. Inhaling a deep breath, she knocked. Several seconds passed. She raised her arm to rap the wood again when the door swung open.
Cole stared down at her, confusion and surprise darkening his golden eyes.
“Sydney?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”
Worrying and trying not to beg you to hug me against that big chest.
She swallowed those foolish and pathetic words and forced a smile to her lips. “I’m sorry to just show up without an appointment, Cole. But if you have a moment, can I take it?”
He stared at her for several seconds, his narrowed gaze a heavy caress she imagined stroked over her cheekbones, nose and jaw. She fought the tremble that tried to work its way through her.
“Of course. Come in.”
He stepped back, granting her enough space to enter his large office. Sunlight streamed into the room through the huge floor-to-ceiling casement windows, spilling onto the wide desk. Even though concerns swarmed her, she couldn’t prevent curiosity from creeping in.
A giant bookcase packed with legal volumes and books encompassed one wall. In front of it sat a round table with several chairs pushed up to it. A small sitting area with an overstuffed black leather couch, armchairs and a beautiful oak coffee table took up the other half of the room. The requisite framed degrees dotted the wall above the furniture, but right next to them hung gorgeous paintings of town landmarks—St. John’s Catholic Church, city hall, Mimi’s Café, Winter Elm Ski Resort and Kinsale Inn.
Then there were the smaller, less obvious details that captivated her attention. The intricate carvings of roses in the legs of the coffee table. The green-and-white paperweight on the end table that appeared to be a misshapen blob with a large C and D carved into the base. Several picture frames front and center on his ruthlessly neat desk. An open ring box on the top shelf of his bookcase with two gold bands nestled on the black velvet.
Cole Dennison was a man who appreciated beauty and order and loved family.
The knowledge only increased her ill-advised fascination with him.
Dammit.
“Here,” Cole said, extending an arm toward his sitting area instead of the visitor chairs in front of his desk. “Can I get you something? Water? Coffee? Tea?” He frowned. “I don’t have decaffeinated coffee, though.”
“No, I’m good.” She waved off his offer with a small smile and crossed the room, settling on one end of the sofa. “You don’t have to go to any trouble. Especially since I showed up out of the blue. And I promise not to keep you long, I just...” She twisted her fingers in her lap, staring down at them for a moment before meeting his gaze again. “I just need to ask your opinion on something. Your legal opinion.”
His eyes sharpened with awareness as he lowered to the middle of the couch. “All right,” he murmured, propping his elbows on his muscular thighs, his big, elegant hands hanging between his knees. “Are you in trouble, Sydney?”
“No,” she hurriedly assured him. “Well, not how you’re thinking. Actually, I’m probably being paranoid and making an issue out of nothing. I’m sorry if I’m wasting your time with this—”
“Sydney, you’re babbling,” he softly interrupted, the corner of his mouth lifting in a faint half smile. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of whether or not you’re wasting my time. Which you’re not, by the way. Just tell me the nonproblem that you may or may not need legal advice for.”
“Right.” She inhaled and drew his fresh scent into her nose and lungs—rain and earth. It both calmed her nerves and set them ablaze. Shifting her gaze away from his gold-and-brown stare, she studied the fine grain of the coffee table instead. “My ex-husband called a little while ago—”
“Ex-husband?” he repeated sharply, dragging her attention back to him. His thick eyebrows nearly met in a confused but fierce frown. “You’re divorced? Since when? You never mentioned...”
“Yes, I’ve been divorced for nearly six months now. I told Leo, I assumed she would’ve told you.”
“She didn’t.” His firm lips flattened into a stern line. “Your parents never said anything either.”
Sydney sighed, not really wanting to go into her completely dysfunctional relationship with her parents. “That’s because they didn’t know until I returned to town.” Surprise flickered in his gaze, and she held up a hand, forestalling the inevitable question. “That’s a long, probably petty on my behalf story, and not one I’d prefer to go into right now.”