Page 10 of A Legal Affair

Caleb raised one brow. “Well, now I’m intrigued. Confess away.”

Those witchy eyes sparkled some more. “I’ve never held criminal defense lawyers in the highest esteem.”

“That’syour big confession?”

“I never said it was big. Why do you sound so disappointed? Were you expecting something juicier? More titillating?”

“Definitely less predictable. There’s nothing groundbreaking about hating criminal lawyers.”

“True,” she conceded. “Lawyers in general get a bad rap, but criminal lawyers are particularly seen as bottom-feeders.”

“A privileged viewpoint held only by those who’ve never been charged with a crime.”

“Fair.” She bit the corner of her lip, tapping her pen on her notebook. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

Caleb hesitated. He should tell her no. He shouldn’t indulge her. He should send her away to let him work in peace.

He should do anything other than what he was doing right now—playing with fire.

“Ask your question, Miss Moreau. I can’t promise you’ll receive an answer, but fortune favors the bold.”

“Um, okay.” Her eyes traveled over his face. “Did you ever defend a client you knew was guilty?”

The question betrayed a naivete that was almost endearing. But Caleb didn’t respond. He held her gaze for so long without speaking that she swallowed nervously, ducked her head and started doodling in her notebook.

“Sorry,” she mumbled sheepishly. “That was probably too personal.”

“Probably.” His tone was mild.

“I can understand why you wouldn’t want to answer that particular question. You were a bigtime criminal lawyer, and your clientele included murderers?—”

“Successfully acquitted defendants,” Caleb corrected.

She blinked at him.

“The law is a precise endeavor, Miss Moreau. Words have meaning.”

“Right. Of course.” She smiled. “You had an impressive acquittal rate. Close to ninety percent, right? The stuff of legend.”

“Ah,” Caleb murmured. “There’s that flattery again.”

“Did I lie, though?”

He merely chuckled.

She eyed him across the table, chewing her plump bottom lip as if to keep herself from asking another burning question.

He sighed, resigned. “Go ahead.”

“Okay.” She released her lip, leaving it glistening. His wayward dick took the bait, pushing against his zipper and derailing his concentration long enough for him to miss the next few words out of her mouth. “…legal ethics require attorneys to separate their personal values from their professional duties. You have to provide an effective defense for your client, even if you fundamentally disagree with their actions.”

When she paused uncertainly, Caleb forced his gaze from her mouth to her eyes. As her words registered, he felt himself smirk. “Is this your clever way of circling back to your original question?”

“No,” she said quickly, a little flustered. “I guess what I’m asking is, how did you separate your personal and professional views? Where did you draw the line in accepting clients?Didyou draw a line? Like, for example, did you ever represent corrupt cops?”

“No,” he said flatly.

“Really? Never?”