Excerpt of Blackjack & Moonlight by Magdalen Braden

“I made a reservation for seven-thirty,” Jack said
carefully. He was standing in the doorway of the living
room, ready to head right out. He held his wrist like he
wanted to refer to his watch but was too polite.

Elise grinned at him and pointed. “The phone’s over there.
You can cancel the reservation.”

His frown tightened. “You’re not feeling well?”

“On the contrary, I feel great.” She walked over to him,
placing her hands on his coat lapels. “Are you sure you
won’t take off this coat?”

“No. I mean, yes. I’m sure.” He stepped back a few inches.
He looked stern and unwavering—a bit like he had when he’d
been prosecuting Philly’s mob boss Dino “T-Rex” Reggiano. No
sense of humor, clearly. Either that, or he was about to
find her in contempt of court.

“Jack,” she soothed. “I can feed you if you’re hungry.
Gusto’s delivers. It’s pretty good pizza.”

The offer seemed to startle him, which warmed her cynical
heart no end. She watched as he considered his options.

“I would prefer to take you out to dinner. If you’ll uh, put
on some clothes,” he said, studiously not noticing her
breasts, which felt very perky under the thin silk of her
robe. “I’ll have Gino put back our reservation at La
Famiglia.”

“I don’t need to be wined and dined. I’m happy to skip
straight to dessert. And by ‘dessert,’ of course, I mean
sex.”

Elise drew her hand down the gray flannel sleeve closest to
her. She let her fingertips skate along his hand, which he
twitched away and hid behind his back. She glanced at his
face. He looked stony enough for Mount Rushmore. She hadn’t
thought Jack could get more austere—he appeared almost
apoplectic with frustration. He clearly hadn’t gotten laid
in a while.

This was going to be fun.

“That’s not why I’m here,” he insisted. He stopped trying to
limit his gaze to her face. Now he was staring over her
right shoulder.

“Well, that’s why I invited you. For sex.”

“I want to date you, not sleep with you.” He said it as
though he were stating the obvious to a dim-witted
defendant.

So crusty and serious. Elise couldn’t resist teasing him.
“Really? You don’t want to sleep with me? Not even a
little?”

That got his attention. He narrowed his eyes as he met her
look. “Ah, the litigator’s trick. Won’t work. Of course I
will want to sleep with you. But tonight, no. What I want
tonight is to take you out to dinner.”

“Funny,” Elise said, reaching down to brush her fingertips
over his groin. “I could have sworn you were interested in
having sex sooner rather than later—”

He took another half step back and glared at her. “Still
won’t work. That’s a physiological reaction. It doesn’t
change my stated intention to take you to dinner. You said
you would come on a date with me.”

“Assuming facts not entered into evidence, Your Honor,” she
objected. “All I said was okay. No one bothered to ask what
I was saying okay to, and as there wasn’t an explicit offer
on the table, you can’t read terms into my acceptance.”

“Elise,” he growled.

“Judge,” she growled back at him.

He really was going to throw a blood clot, she thought, as
his face contorted with frustration. It got almost—but not
quite—ugly. She didn’t think anything could make him look
ugly. Damn him. And why didn’t he want to skip straight to
the sex? If she made herself any more available, she’d be
draped over the couch wearing nothing but a shiny red
ribbon.

Suddenly his face cleared. His shoulders dropped a full inch
and he even managed a slight smile. He folded his arms and
leaned back.

“Fair enough. You’re absolutely right. We didn’t spend
enough time yesterday negotiating terms. By all means let’s
do that now.”

“I don’t want to negotiate terms. I want to take you
upstairs, unwrap you like a Christmas present, and get
sweaty with you in my bed.”

“I understand that, Elise.” He made her name sound like a
Gypsy curse. “I am declining that generous offer. My
counteroffer of dinner at a five-star restaurant is clearly
unacceptable to you. So let’s try to find some middle
ground.”