Too many erotic dreams made it impossible to see this man in an objective way. Every time she looked at him, her dreams started to play in her head. She wondered if he was as good a lover as her dream man. She also wondered if she'd ever get the chance to find out.

From the look in his eyes, he seemed like he might be interested-she'd seen that heated stare many times in her dreams. She thrilled with the thought that he wanted her. Of course, she had to ignore the fact that he might be a pedophile. And even if he wasn't, she'd have to hide him from her family.

At least I get to meet him. And she wasn't even asleep. She was actually in the same room with her dream man, talking to him. Except that they hadn't talked yet, which reminded her that she was the one who was supposed to do that.

She cleared her throat. "Good afternoon, Mr. Veseli. I'm your court-appointed defense attorney, Constance Westerley." She offered her hand to him.

His eyes widened when he heard her name, and he seemed to be frozen for a few seconds. Finally, he raised cuffed hands, offering them together.

Something is wrong here. Why was he still in handcuffs? They usually released her clients when in conference, keeping them restrained only in extreme situations. Was this case so high profile that even the officers were concerned for her safety?

Constance pulled her hand back. "Wait a minute." She turned and knocked on the door. The policeman stationed outside unlocked it.

"Yes, counselor?"

"Why is this man still in handcuffs?"

"Well, the sergeant thought he might be dangerous, and you're a woman and all, so we decided to keep him restrained."

"This man is not dangerous. Uncuff him." The officer hesitated and looked away as if he needed to consult someone else. Constance snapped at him, "Now!" Then she softened and added, "Please."

"Okay." He removed Nick's handcuffs and left the room. Nick rubbed his wrists.

Constance set her paperwork on the table and stepped closer. "Now let's try that again. Hello, I'm Constance Westerley." She held out her hand.

His eyes widened again at the mention of her name. "A Westerley?" He snorted, then held out his hand. "I guess I don't have to tell you that I'm Nicholas Veseli. Call me Nick." They shook hands. The touch of his skin seemed to ripple up her arm and across her body. She had to force herself to end the handshake. Why was it that everything about this man seemed so perfect? Well, except for the fact that he might be a creepy pornographer.




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