Legal Heat by Sarah Castille

She barely registered Tony’s departure as she melted against Mark’s broad chest.
    “What happened to look but don’t touch?” Her voice caught in her throat when Mark nipped her earlobe.
    “That only applies to you,” he whispered. “I am totally unable to resist a beautiful lawyer in a corset.”
    “Well, then I’d better take it off, or we’ll be heading down to the Law Society office for a friendly fireside chat in no time.” Katy tried to step away, but Mark held her firm.
    “Mmm. Dress off. That would be better. Well worth the risk.”
    Katy closed her eyes, struggling for calm as fire swept through her body incinerating everything in its path. Clenching her teeth, she took a deep breath and pushed him back. “Changing. Now. Do not follow me.”
    She shuddered when he released her and then beat a hasty retreat to the change room. Either he was a master player and an expert manipulator, or they were one heck of a volatile combination.
    And right now, she didn’t need any complications in her life.
     
     
    To Katy’s surprise, it was very easy to break into an apartment, even on Vancouver’s busy Beach Avenue. When Valerie didn’t answer her buzzer, they waited until one of the tenants came home and followed him inside. Easier still, was their entry into Valerie’s apartment, assisted by the broken lock on the door.
    Valerie wasn’t in the living area or the kitchen. They walked down a narrow hallway and into a very pink, very feminine bedroom. Fluffy toys filled the shelves along with photographs in decorative, heart-shaped frames. Lingerie and clothing covered the white wooden furniture and littered the pink plush carpet underfoot. A huge four-poster bed dominated the room.
    An occupied bed.
    Katy’s hand flew to her mouth as she struggled to process the sight in front of her.
    Recognizable only by her short, black bob, Valerie lay curled in a fetal position in the midst of a pink froth of linen.
    Hideously swollen. Horrendously disfigured.
    Dead.
    Katy gasped and buried her face in Mark’s chest. “Oh God. What happened to her?”
    “I don’t know,” Mark said, his voice tight. “I’ll call nine-one-one and then I’ll call my friend, James. He’s a homicide cop.”
    Katy remembered the man with the ice blue eyes from her last visit to the club. She wouldn’t want to be a criminal with James on her tail. Based on looks alone, she suspected he would be relentless in his pursuit of any wrongdoer—and merciless when he caught his prey.
    Her thoughts of criminals led to thoughts of her client and she excused herself to call Jimmy. She stepped out into the hallway. Calling someone in prison was never an easy task, but she managed to get through and break the bad news.
    If Jimmy was distraught, she couldn’t tell through the shouting and yelling on the other end of the phone.
    “I told her not to touch them, but she obviously didn’t listen.” Jimmy swore and cursed Valerie for her stupidity and then his voice became urgent. “There should be a plastic bag with some pills in her bedroom. You need to get it before the police get there.”
    Katy stiffened. “I can’t take anything from a crime scene.”
    “What kind of lawyer are you?” Jimmy growled. “You’re supposed to protect me and keep me outta jail. It’s not a crime scene until the police get there. Go get the bag. Now.”
    “I’m sorry. I can’t,” Katy whispered, worried Mark might overhear. But it was too late. Jimmy was gone.
     
     
    James’s protective suit crinkled when he bent down to examine the body. He didn’t know Valerie well, but they had spoken at the club several times and he had bought her the occasional drink when Jimmy was late picking her up. Pretty girl. Such a waste.
    The cloying smell of heavy perfume permeated his protective mask. He righted the spilled bottle on the night table beside the bed with a gloved hand.
    “Bag.” Someone from the forensics squad placed an evidence bag in his