ATTENTION: THE AUTHOR IS POSTING THE LAST CHAPTER ON MAY 5. TO THANK ALL THOSE WHO HAVE READ HER STORY, SHE IS ALLOWING THE ENTIRE STORY TO BE PUBLISHED UNTIL MAY 22.

THIS BOOK OR ANY PORTION THEREOF MAY NOT BE REPRODUCED IN ANY FORM WITHOUT PERMISSION. THE SCANNING, UPLOADING, AND DISTRIBUTION OF THIS BOOK VIA THE INTERNET OR VIA ANY OTHER MEANS WITHOUT THE PERMISSION OF THE PUBLISHER IS ILLEGAL AND PUNISHABLE BY LAW.

"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU been?" Gold's voice shouted over the phone as Regina sat in Robin's kitchen.

"Is something wrong?" She kept her voice low as not to wake Robin from his sleep. She'd closed the door but had no idea how light or heavy of a sleeper he was. Mortified, she listened to Gold's angry voice.

"I've been calling you for hours. You had a deposition with a client, you missed the staff meeting, and Maggie was looking for you to negotiate a settlement with one of her clients," he listed off and punctuated each statement with harsh breaths.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she knew about the meeting and had totally forgotten. There had been other things and fears on her mind. "I'll call the client, I missed the staff meeting because I was working on the Mixer with Robin, and I'll call Maggie," she said trying to reassure him. Lying wasn't her strong suit, but it was necessary.

Silence held on the line, "I don't know what's gotten into you, Regina. You're the only one I count on not to pull shit like this."

Swallowing, she felt her chest tingling, "I'm sorry, Stan. I lost track of time and I totally spaced the meeting. I'll come in early, if that's what you want." Her hands worked their way into her hair untangling the mess in a nervous habit of hers. Flipping her hair back over her shoulder, she sighed. "Okay?"

"Fine. I'll meet you in my office at 7:30. I'll fill you in and we need to talk about the Mueller meeting," he said more calmly.

"I'm prepared and I have some ideas," she said. "We'll talk in the morning," she said glancing at the clock. Three hours. It had been three hours since she'd left the office.

"Yea," he said before hanging up. The dial tone in her ear ate a hole in her stomach. Putting her phone on the counter, she closed her eyes.

In the time she'd worked for the firm, she'd never missed a meeting with a client, rarely missed staff meetings, and didn't leave in the middle of the day to give into sexual desire. She didn't blame Robin. Hell, she should thank him.

It rocked her out of her routine, made her feel things she'd suppressed for too long, and opened her. It terrified her still, but she was open. Despite that, she was upset at herself for failing at her job.

Her job was everything to her. There were no shortcuts, no excuses, and she didn't take days off. Not having her briefcase with her felt foreign, she didn't know what to do in an apartment not her own. Settling for coffee, she perused his cabinets until she found his coffee grounds and filters. She set up the pot to brew and sat with her phone answering e-mails. Shooting a text to Maggie as she sipped from a mug she'd found in the cabinet, she hoped she wouldn't be too upset.

In her task, she felt better for calling the client and apologizing, she rescheduled their deposition and ensured that the mix-up wouldn't happen again. Everything was set for the Mixer on Thursday the next week. She made a call to the hotel to ensure there would be someone there early Wednesday to open the room for set up.

When the calls were done, she pulled up her online schedule and got busy moving things around. It was marginally better than sitting in this apartment alone. Her mind cleared and her body relaxed as she worked.

HE OPENED THE DOOR TO HIS bedroom after slipping on a pair of sweats. Waking up to find her gone had put a damper in his idea to get her back under him. He could smell her on his pillow and couldn't wait in the bed any longer. She was sitting in the kitchen in the shirt he'd worn the day before with a single button closed in the center, her phone in her hand, and a cup of coffee at her side.

He watched her legs swing like a pendulum under the stool crossed at the ankles, a habit he'd noticed of hers. Her toes were painted the same blue as her dress. He wondered how often she changed the color or if she even thought about it. Seeing her in his kitchen did something to his insides. He wasn't sure how he felt about it.

"Hey," he said walking toward her. Her whole body jolted, and she gasped nearly dropping her phone.

"Oh, you scared me," she pressed a hand to her chest taking shallow breaths.

"Sorry, you look so damn cute sitting here in my shirt." As he approached her, his gaze lowered. She'd pulled on her panties and nothing else under his shirt. It was sexy. He stepped to her framed her face in his hands and lowered his head in a steamy kiss. "Hi."

"Hi," she smiled.

Walking around the counter, he took a mug down and filled it. "Made yourself at home, I see."

"Sorry, I needed it," she said. "I figured you'd be up for a cup by now."

"Thanks," he watched her face as she stared down at her phone. "What's up? You look upset." He lifted the mug and drank deep thanking her for thinking of caffeine. The warmth filled his stomach and the taste settled on his tongue. Yes, just what he needed.

She put her phone down and met his eyes, "Gold called, and he was pissed. I had seven missed calls from him. Four from Maggie."

"What's the emergency? That's excessive, don't you think?" He walked to the stool next to her and sat. She shifted to face him, pulled the shirt closed when his eyes lowered.

"I had a deposition at 3, we missed a staff meeting, and Maggie needed a settlement negotiated."

"Shit, I'm sorry," he said setting his mug down. "How much shit are you in?"

"I'm not, thankfully. I called the client and rescheduled, I texted Maggie, and I'm meeting with Gold at 7:30. I didn't think," she said raking her hands through her hair.

"Blame me," he said evenly. "It was my fault. I dragged you out of there. If I'd known you had that on your schedule, I'd have waited. I wasn't exactly clear of mind."

"Neither was I, which is why I blew off my job. I've never done that," she said meeting his eyes.

"When Stan relies on me, it isn't because it's my job. He's put his neck on the line for me. He mentored me, and he gave me a shot when not many other firms would have. He gave me the time off when my father died, and he's given me a lot of slack since. I hate disappointing him."

"I didn't realize you two were that close," he said taking another sip.

"Closer than most think, he's a good guy. Hearing him yell at me wasn't a favorite thing of mine. He's really pissed."

"He'll get over it," said. "You work harder than anyone at the firm. You deserve a few hours off."

"Robin, I take my job seriously. It's my work, my life." He watched her eyes change, her face turn red. It upset her and he hated that he was part of the reason she felt like this.

"I know that," he said shaping his hand to her jaw, "It's one of the things I admire about you," he kissed her. "I'm sorry for getting in the way of that, but I'm not sorry for bringing you here. For what's between us."

He took her waist and lifted her out of her seat, pulled her between his legs to wrap his arms around her. Her arms rested around his neck and nestled closer, "I'm not blaming you, exactly," she said. "It was just as much my fault, but this can't happen again. We can't just blow off our responsibilities because of this zing between us."

"Zing? I think it's a little more than that," he said nuzzling his nose against hers.

"Maybe, but we have a lot to do before Muller comes on Friday, I have a lot to make up for, and you do too. I don't think he expects us to come back in tonight and I'd feel too embarrassed now to show up. I don't grovel."

"No, you don't," he laughed. His fingers played with the edges of her hair, "You demand, and you come back swinging when things don't go your way the first time. Grovel? Never."

"You think that's gonna butter me up?" She set her jaw in indignation.

"I had something else in mind," he said kissing her and pulling her flush against him. "I don't have to try very hard."

"Robin…" He silenced her with his lips, with his tongue.

Would it be like this all the time? Would he want her as much as if he'd never touched her? This feeling was overwhelming. It wasn't lust but skated toward it and made his belly flutter. He felt drawn to her, like he was meant to meet her, to be where they were now. What the hell was wrong with him?

"We can't keep doing this," she said in between kisses. "No more leaving the office."

"I know," he said molding his hands to her hips. "But," he kissed her, "It looks like we have the rest of the night free." He closed his mouth over her neck and bit down, slid his hands under his open shirt, and shaped his hands to her breasts. "I can think of many things we can accomplish."

She drew her head back and laughed low in her throat, "We have work to do." He admired that she could be practical. Her breath caught as he unhooked the button and shoved the shirt down her arms, he dropped it to the floor. "You look better in my shirt than I do, but I like this better," he said lowering his head to cover her breast with his eager mouth.

Her fingers slid into his hair causing a desire to spread through him. "Is that right?" She drowned him in the most mind-numbing kiss he'd ever experienced. Every thought, every worry simply left his mind. He nearly stopped breathing when she slid the fabric from his hips.

"You drive me crazy," he groaned against her mouth. His fingers wrapped in her hair held her close as he devoured her. "I told you I wasn't done with you," he said when she tried to pull back. He bent his knees and hoisted her up, he took careful steps to the bedroom, dropped her on the bed, and covered her with his body.

Lost, he kissed her long and hard as he reached down and slid his fingers along her slick center. He slid a condom on, "Wrap your legs around me. I want you around me. I can't stop thinking about you around me." He linked his fingers with hers and lifted her arms above her head, held them there. "You destroyed me earlier," he said nipping at her lips.

Her eyes were aroused, her breath coming in unsteady, "I think it was the other way around."

Shaking his head, "Not even close."

"Is this payback?" She raised her chin as her body trembled.

"Yup," he said with a hot kiss. He rocked into her and watched her eyes nearly roll to the back of her head, a moan escaping her lips. She tried to pull her arms down, he shook his head, "Let's see how much you can handle."

REGINA KNOCKED ON STAN'S office door at 7:24 and opened the door when she heard him say come in. "Morning," she said. "I'd like to apologize about yesterday, again."

"Sit down," he said. "Let's forget about it. Right now, I'm more worried about your plans for Mueller."

Regina sat, opened her briefcase, and took out the folder she'd created. "I came up with two solutions," she said. "First, we depose his son, the entire basketball staff, and any relative administration. We get an idea of what happened when. Here is a list of questions," she handed him a draft.

As he gazed over it, she continued, "The other idea is to negotiate a settlement. If they aren't willing to retain him as an employee, they may pay. I'd prefer the first and air out all the dirty laundry by the university, but I'll take an admittance of guilt."

"It's a good list, I'll add a few and we'll offer Mueller the options. They're both good. You did your homework," he said.

"I know this case in and out, Stan. I know I could do it and do it well," she said.

"I know you can, which is why I agreed to the meeting. You disappear like that again and I hand it to Belfrey. Got it?"

"I swear," she said.

"Good. Any last-minute Mixer plans or did you take care of them yesterday?" His tone of voice told her he knew she was lying.

"We're set. The room will be open on Wednesday morning for set up. I have all orders, decorations, and supplies ready. The florist will deliver the flowers on Thursday morning. Robin is taking care of working with the clean-up crew."

"Good. What about food?"

"Henrietta Lucas has a number of her staff coming to serve, the food will be delivered to the hotel no later than six. Dinner is at seven," she said.

"You're speaking," he said. "I want you to write a speech, something that will cover the firm's mission and something to impress Mueller."

Swallowing, her head felt dizzy, "Why me? I hate public speaking."

"You do it in the courtroom every other day," he argued. "You'll behind a podium decorated in pretty flowers. Don't fail me."

"I won't," she said fear lodging in her throat. It was her worst nightmare. To speak to a room full of people when it had nothing to do with fighting for a client. She hated it and feared it. An old phobia from when her mother dragged her along on her campaign. She'd attempted to run for senator and her mother would constantly make her speak to the press.

One time, she was so scared nothing came out of her mouth, she'd reached the nearest restroom in time to empty her stomach. Her stomach was queasy thinking about it. "Stan, I know you're mad," she began.

"This isn't about being upset with you. Regina, it's for the firm. It's for Mueller and I know you will get the case. I know you'll do it, but you have to sacrifice your fear for your job. Can you do it?"

Defeated, she sat back, "Yes."

Gold reiterated what they'd gone over in the staff meeting, expected her to relay the information to Robin, and excused her. By the time she walked out of his office, her head was spinning. It wasn't even nine o'clock and she was exhausted.

When she walked into her office, she sat at her desk.

"How bad?"

"What?" She glanced over to see him in front of his computer, files open, fingers ready to type.

"Gold," he prompted.

"Oh, it's fine. We worked it out," she said absently. Putting her password into her computer, she pulled out the file for the deposition she rescheduled. "I have to give a speech," she blurted out as he typed.

"So?" He didn't pause his thought, picked up a pen to jot something down, and clicked with his mouse. "For the Mixer? You'll be great."

"No, I won't," she said with a timid voice. "I hate public speaking."

He frowned at her, "Regina breathe," he said. "You look like you're gonna hurl."

"I might," she said pressing her hand to her jittery stomach.

"Hey," he used the soft voice she knew he used to get her attention. Caring and compassionate. She turned to meet his eyes. "Are you alright?"

Taking a deep breath through her nose and out her mouth, she nodded, "I'm fine."

On her screen, she pulled up the client's file, printed off her questions, and readied a bag for her meeting. "I have that deposition in an hour," she said.

"I'm in court in thirty," he said. The printer motor roiled behind him as he printed off legal documents. "I'll be back by one."

It all felt a little strange, she admitted to herself. Since when did they relay their schedules to each other unless they coincided? They ate lunch together when they had clients, and in the last two and a half weeks, she'd spent as little time as possible in the office.

She chose not to respond and turned her attention to her screen. When he loaded his briefcase, she entered notes from her deposition a few days before. Sent off documents to Gold and slid her heels off her feet. She crossed her ankles and her feet started swinging as they always did.

"I'm headed out," he said walking around to crouch down next to her. "What's that look on your face?"

"What look?" He turned her chair to face him.

"I can read you, remember?" His thumb brushed her chin playfully.

"I'm just worried," she said bypassing her fear of getting too close to him. "I've had a fear of public speaking since I was thirteen."

"Regina, you dominate in a courtroom, what are you talking about?" He stood from his crouch and leaned against her desk.

Sitting back, she explained, "That's different. I'm prepared to fight for a client, I'm used to the players, the parameters. I know how to argue, and I know how to present my findings. I don't do well with a group of people staring at me. My mother forced me to do it and I always lost my lunch. I want this case."

"So, approach it like a case," he suggested. "You'll know the players, you'll figure out the parameters."

"How?"

"I'll help you later. I've gotta go."

"I don't know…" It wasn't that simple, she thought.

"Trust me," he said. Turning his head, he glanced at the door, dipped his head to brush his lips over hers. "I'll see you later. Text me if you want me to pick up some food."

That was new too, she mused. Him offering to pick up lunch for her. Not that he hadn't done it before, but the way he'd said it. The look in his eyes, the heat behind that simple kiss.

She watched him put his blazer on, fill his pockets with his wallet and keys, and pick up his briefcase. He winked at her as he grinned walking out the door and down the hallway. It took that long for her heart to stop pounding and her belly to stop fluttering. Images of their night together filtered through her mind skyrocketing her blood pressure.

Her chest felt hot, her fingers damp, she let out a ragged breath. She slumped back in her chair clutching her chest and smiling in satisfaction. The things he could do, she thought.

The way he'd driven her back to get her car, kissed her so sweetly her heart had danced in her chest and watched as she'd pulled out of the lot. It all dazzled her, worried her, and sat as a jumbled confusion in her head.

He was caring, sweet, and knew how to put her at ease, and put her in her place. They worked well together, he was open with her, honest. The way he could look at her and express how he felt without words, shook her.

Taking deep breaths, she waited until her heart calmed, turned back to her work, and readied for her deposition client.