Page 6 of Jackpot Joker

“Lauren, it’s a pleasure as always.”

Her pretty face falls. “It’s Lindsay.”

Shit. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I was so captivated by your beauty that your name escaped me for a moment.” I watch her cheeks pinken, and when I give her a wink, I track her shifting in her chair, knowing she’s rubbing her thighs together. A cocky smirk forms, and for a moment, I wonder what time she gets off work or if there’s a nearby office we can sneak off to for a quickie. Reminding myself I have urgent matters to get to, I carry on. “I’m here to see Megan, please.”

The pink tint quickly fades from her heart-shaped face, and her bottom lip quivers. “Oh, Mr. Caruso, I’m so sorry. Did nobody reach out to you?”

My spine straightens, a flash of panic zipping through my body. If someone hurt the attorney I work with as an attempt to harm my family, they’ll be in for a rude awakening. Loyalty goes both ways. We cut down those who work against us but protect those who remain faithful.

I don’t allow Lindsay to see my concern, crossing my arms and lowering myself on the counter she sits behind. “Why would someone need to reach out to me?”

The receptionist’s eyes stare at my exposed chest, but she finally looks up when I clear my throat. “Ms. Miller’s last day was Friday. She’s currently on maternity leave.”

Fuck. It isn’t that the other attorneys in the building don’t do exactly as I ask, but Megan rushed things along for me, and since I’ve already pissed Gio off today, I know I have to take care of this transaction quickly. He may be my brother, but as my father grows weaker, Gio has become more ruthless as the don-in-training.

I plaster on my panty-dropping smile, knowing it works when Lindsay bites her bottom lip. “Please be sure to get Megan’s address for me so I can send her my congratulations,” I offer. “When can I expect her return?”

Lindsay’s expression drops again. “She won’t be returning. She’s decided to stay home with the baby.”

I clench my hands hard enough I see the whitening of my knuckles. How was nobody in this godforsaken firm responsible enough to tell me or my brothers we were losing a member of our counsel? Anybody they bring on board will have to be fully vetted. We understand they have their own protocols and background checks in place, but ours are a little more, well, thorough.

I shake out my hands and plaster on the poster-boy smile my family relies on when dealing with the public. “I assume a new hire has been brought in?”

Lindsay nods emphatically. “Oh yes. Miss Baker is the newest member of your counsel and is taking over all of Ms. Miller’s current cases and clients. Would you like me to arrange a meeting with her?”

Obviously. “That would be wonderful, thank you.”

Picking up the phone, Lindsay punches in the extension number and briefly speaks to this Miss Baker, who’s replaced the woman I can coerce into doing anything my brothers and I need to run our business. I hope like hell this one is as easy to work with. The fact that she’s a woman means it shouldn’t be a problem for me.

“Miss Baker says she will come down to greet you. She’s on her way.”

“Thank you so much, Lindsay.” I say her name correctly, throwing another wink her way to get those cheeks that delightful shade of pink again, then strike up a suggestive and flirty conversation while I wait for my new attorney.

As I’m contemplating how much time we would have before the elevator arrives, the mechanism itself chimes behind me, and the doors open. When I turn, my jaw drops as the woman steps out. Her striking blonde hair falls in soft, polished waves, framing a face equal parts perfection and temptation. Her lips are painted a bold red, sharp and striking, like a warning label.

The navy fabric of her jumpsuit drapes over her lush curves like it was made with her in mind. A belt cinches her waist, and my fingers tingle with the desire to untie it, uncovering more of what I have no doubt is a phenomenal body of luscious curves underneath.

Her shoulders are pulled back, chin held high, eyes assessing as they scan the building lobby. When they meet mine, I realize I was very wrong about the world I live in, because my new attorney is the most beautiful angel I’ve ever seen.

Chapter 5

Jasmine

Iswallow down the breath caught in my throat as my eyes land on the man whose file I’ve been going through on my first day on the job—Dario Caruso. The number of businesses he owns and the success he’s achieved doesn’t come as a surprise now that I see him standing in the lobby. He’s not the type of man who has to try to command a room. He simply does.

The sunlight streams through the windows as though it’s one of the accessories he threw on for the day. Beams of light catch his dark hair, which is styled enough to look like he didn’t put much effort into it, but was probably professionally done by a team of artists this morning.

His shirt is open at the collar, buttons undone to reveal a chiseled chest and a tease of dark ink. The crisp, white fabric is tucked into a pair of cream linen trousers that look like they were purchased straight from the runway, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, displaying thick, corded arms. The contrast between his dark features and the light outfit makes him look like a fallen angel.

When my eyes scan back up his body, I can’t help but note the sharp jawline shadowed with enough stubble to leave you remembering how he feels between your legs. His mouth pulls into a smile that could easily ruin someone, but it’s his dark eyes that are the most dangerous. They’re sharp. They’re knowing. And they’re staring directly at me.

I make my way across the lobby and extend my hand. “Mr. Caruso, it’s very nice to meet you. My name is Jasmine Baker, and I’m the newest member of your counsel.”

He takes my proffered hand, his bourbon eyes reminding me of home as they sear into mine. With a gentle twist, he places a kiss over the crest of my knuckles. Then, in the most panty-melting voice I’ve ever heard, he says, “It’s so nice to meet you, Miss Baker.”

If I had one of those computers from the eighties movie where I’d strap a bra on my head to create the perfect specimen, this man is what I would bring to life, and that’s a big, big problem. I blink at where our hands are still connected, silently reminding myself that I’m a fucking professional and he is my client. These flips my stomach is doing, the flutters my heart is making, and the dampness between my thighs all have to stop. Abruptly.

I compose myself, forcing a professional smile and narrowing my eyes at his stupid, handsome face. Rolling my shoulders backward, my tits are thrust out, and when his eyes land on my cleavage, I yank my hand away from his grasp and cross my arms to cover myself. This man needs to know I have boundaries.