A Stallion Dream. Deborah Fletcher Mello

A Stallion Dream - Deborah Fletcher Mello


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flecks that shimmered behind lengthy lashes. London heard herself gasp, a swift inhale of air that sounded as if she’d been punched square in the stomach. He was dazzling, emanating a glow of kindness that felt infectious. It had captivated everyone in the room and even London was finding it difficult to resist.

      She snatched her gaze from his and took two deep breaths before shifting her eyes back to his. He was still staring, a bright smile filling his chiseled face. He was exquisite, and despite her every effort, he took her breath away. Needing a distraction, she turned her attention back to his shoes, which, she recognized, were designed by the contemporary shoemaker Maison Corthay. The crisply polished leather easily cost what she paid in rent for three months. She hated that she knew that. Her obsession with designer fashion was a guilty pleasure few were aware of. Nor did they know that most of her own designer-label possessions were previous years’ releases found at local thrift and consignment shops.

      Everyone was familiar with the Stallion family’s reputation. Collin’s parents were at the top of their game in the legal profession. His uncles had built one of the largest black-owned corporations in the world, each of them making one of Forbes magazine’s rich lists annually. The family’s wealth was impressive and mind-boggling. Collin Stallion’s silver spoon came with gold medallions and diamond-encrusted embellishments. So, what was he really doing there? Her name being spoken pulled at her attention. She looked up with a start, then forced a smile to her face as she lifted her eyes to find Perry and Collin standing right in front of her. Her gaze met Collin’s and locked.

      “London is one of our staff attorneys. She litigates postconviction cases here in the Dallas area. She’s been a top litigator for us for almost two years now,” Perry said.

      He went on to complete the introduction. “London, this is Collin Stallion. Attorney Stallion was in Boston prior to passing the bar here in Texas. He’s bypassing an opportunity to practice corporate law to help us here with our innocence initiative. You two will be working closely together.”

      “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stallion. Welcome aboard.”

      “Please, call me Collin,” he said as his palm slid gently against hers.

      London was surprised to discover his hands weren’t as soft and pasty as she had expected. His skin was slightly calloused, his fingers were strong, and his palm was surprisingly hot. A wave of heat surged in her like a firestorm. London was taken aback by the magnitude of it and practically snatched her hand from his.

      The furl of his lips deepened, showcasing the prettiest set of snow-white teeth. “Thank you,” he said, his deep voice thick and rich like blackstrap molasses. “I look forward to our working together.”

      London tossed him a nod of her head. “I think I’ll grab a doughnut,” she said as she stepped back, Perry already pulling another attorney forward to make an introduction.

      A doughnut? Did I really just say that? London shook her head as she eased over to the other side of the room. I should have kept looking at his damn shoes, she thought.

      * * *

      Both Paula and Felicia were grinning foolishly at her as she sat down.

      “That looked like it went well,” Felicia said, her laughter teasing. “You didn’t trip on anything.”

      “That glazed deer-in-headlights look you have isn’t pretty, though,” Paula said. “There’s a hint of desperation, just a tiny hint,” she added teasingly, gesturing with her thumb and forefinger.

      “Neither of you is funny,” London said, a frown pulling the lines of her face downward. Her eyes rolled as she poked at a chocolate-iced doughnut Felicia pushed toward her.

      “Actually, I think it went very well. He’s still staring at you,” Paula quipped.

      “Staring at who?” London asked, her eyes widening.

      Paula laughed, “At you.” She gestured with her head, throwing the slightest of nods in the man’s direction.

      London tossed a quick glance over her shoulder. Collin was still staring and when he saw her looking, he smiled.

      * * *

      Collin gazed from his office toward Attorney Jacobs’s, hoping against all odds to catch a glimpse of the beautiful woman. London Jacobs had taken his breath away and it had truly been a struggle to contain his interest. She’d captured his attention the moment she’d entered the conference room. Despite her obvious efforts to mask her supermodel looks, she was stunning. She wore the barest hint of makeup, her face adorned with just a little eyeliner and rose-tinted lip gloss. She wore a charcoal-gray silk suit, the blazer closed with four buttons and belted around her waist. Her hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail. She was a wisp of a woman, petite in stature, with hints of curves in all the right places. She was the sweetest confection, with a mouth that begged to be kissed. Despite his best efforts at self-control, he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing London Jacobs’s delicate mouth or the dreamy look in her eyes when she’d looked at him.

      There was a purity in her expression, and something very refreshing in her appraisal of him. She hadn’t seemed at all impressed, neither the reputation of his family name nor his looks swaying her attention. Usually women fell all over him, influenced by one, the other or both. Women his father and uncles had often told him to be wary of.

      While there had been a few who had been excessively attentive to him, London had appeared genuinely disinterested until those moments they’d locked gazes and held on. And when they’d connected, it wasn’t what he saw but more about a feeling that singed the edges of his spirit as heat coursed up his spine. There’d been fire in the dark orbs of her eyes and it had ignited something deep in his core that was still simmering on a slow burn.

      Perry suddenly stood in the doorway, gesturing for his attention, an index finger waving as if it was unhinged. “Collin, if I can grab you for minute, please.” He shook a manila file folder in the other hand.

      “Certainly,” Collin said, rising from his seat.

      He followed as Perry led the way to London’s office. Perry knocked before he pushed his way inside.

      Collin paused at the entrance, and when she gestured with a polite smile he felt a quiver of something he couldn’t quite name billow through his midsection.

      London greeted them both warmly. “Gentlemen, please, have a seat. How can I help you?”

      Perry looked from her to him with a raised brow. “They’ve set a trial date for the Jerome James case. It’s been decided that Collin will sit second chair with you.”

      * * *

      Although his internships had given him a wealth of experience, Collin couldn’t help feeling like he might be out of his element. The boxes of case files that littered his office seemed to be growing exponentially as he shifted through the multitude of folders that detailed everything about Mr. Jerome James, a former community activist incarcerated for the murder of his wife. James had always maintained his innocence and had become somewhat of a legend in the community. Affording him a new trial had taken the innocence coalition eight years of one court motion after another to secure. Countless hours and the efforts of a large task force had laid the foundation for what would soon come. Collin blew a soft sigh, moving yet another folder of documents to his completed pile as he pulled one from the to-be-read pile. Leaning back in his seat, he made himself comfortable.

      He’d been reading for a good hour when he looked up to find Attorney Jacobs staring at him. She stood in his doorway with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, a curious furrow on her brow. Amusement pierced his spirit as he stared back. She hadn’t had much to say to him since he’d been assigned to work with her. For the last few weeks, the little conversation between them had been limited to polite chatter and her admonishments for him to update himself on the details of the case as she dropped yet another box of files onto his desk. That she was standing there, looking like she was interested in a real conversation, was clearly progress.

      “Good


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