Too Charming by Kathryn Freeman

might accidentally end up with it running down your shirt.’
    He had no doubt that she would do that, too. ‘You strike a tough bargain, detective, but I guess if that’s the best you can offer, I’ll have to take it.’
    A satisfied smile spread across his features as he put down the phone. On the face of it a drink-only date, which offered no opportunity for touching, wasn’t a great achievement. But Scott knew there were some things in life that were important to approach slowly. When he put together a case he built it up carefully, starting from the bottom, rather than rushing straight for the jugular. Getting Megan to go out with him required a similar skill. Taking small steps, building a solid foundation. He’d kissed her once and experienced her instinctive response. She’d been like molten lava under his touch. He was quietly confident that at some point he’d get to sample that again. Until then, as long as he was seeing her, she would be thinking of him.
     
    A few days after the ball, and just over a week after their first drink together, Megan found herself once more in the same bar, with the same man. She must be out of her tiny little mind. He pushed, she ran. That was the plan. So how come she was meeting him for another drink? Despite the conversation they’d had, she knew very well that Scott wasn’t taking her friendship rule seriously. He was still hell-bent on getting her into bed. The thought both alarmed and excited her. No matter what she might say out loud, there was no doubt that having a sexy man chase her, look at her with the smouldering intensity that Scott did, thrust all sensible thoughts out of her head. It was thrilling –scary as hell, but undeniably thrilling. So long as she kept her head and didn’t start to believe she was anything more than a challenge to him, having the occasional drink together could be fun. Couldn’t it?
    He placed the ice-cold lagers on to the table and sat down opposite her once more. Somewhere between the bar and the table he’d taken off his tie and loosened his collar. He’d also run a hand through his dark hair, leaving it slightly dishevelled. It was as if he knew she preferred the more casual look on him. The one that had him looking less like a lawyer.
    ‘How are things down at the station?’ he asked as he took his first sip. ‘Caught any bad guys recently?’
    ‘A few. Let any off, recently?’ She’d intended her reply to be a joke, but from the way his eyes immediately shuttered, she could see it hadn’t been taken as one.
    ‘We never did touch on that particular objection you had against me, did we?’
    She held up her hand. ‘I’m sorry. I was trying to make a clever reply, that’s all. A poor attempt at witty banter. Please, forget I said it.’
    Above his clear grey eyes, his brows knitted together. ‘No, I don’t think I can. You clearly have something against what I do and, I guess, looking at it from your point of view, I can see why. Equally, as a key player in the justice system, you can surely appreciate that it’s vitally important that every accused person is entitled to defend themselves in court. What was it that William Blackstone said? It is better that ten guilty persons escape than that one innocent suffer.’
    She acknowledged the truth of his words with a small sigh. ‘I can accept that, but I find it hard to understand how you can defend those you know perfectly well are just plain guilty.’
    ‘I don’t know they’re guilty. I can assess the evidence against them, see how strong it is, but I don’t know if they’re guilty any more than you do.’
    ‘Okay, okay, a clever use of words, but you know what I mean. There are some cases where it’s blindingly obvious.’
    ‘To you, maybe, but when I take on a case I always tell myself that the client is innocent. That way I ensure I do a proper job.’ He cradled his hands around his glass. ‘It’s my job to make sure the jury see both sides to any