Falling for Rachel
Page 17

Her quick jolt of alarm both pleased and amused him. “Excuse me?”
“Maybe I should rephrase that. I’d like to spend the night with you—several nights running, in fact—but I’ll settle for the evening.” He managed to wind a lock of her hair around his finger before she remembered to bat his hand away. “Some food, some music. I know a place that does both really well. If the idea of a date makes you nervous…”
“I’m not nervous.” Not exactly, she thought.
“Anyway, we can consider it a few hours between two people who have a mutual interest. It couldn’t hurt if we got to know each other a little better.” He pulled out his trump card. “For Nick’s sake.”
She studied him, much as she had the witness she’d so ruthlessly cross-examined earlier. “You want to spend the evening with me for Nick’s sake?”
Giving up, he grinned. “Hell, no. There’s bound to be some spillover benefit there, but I want to spend the evening with you for purely selfish reasons.”
“I see. Well, since you didn’t perjure yourself, I may be able to cut a deal. It has to be an early evening, somewhere I can dress comfortably. And you won’t…” How had he phrased it? “Get pushy.”
“You’re a tough one, Counselor.”
“You got it.”
“Deal,” he said, and gave her the briefcase.
“Fine. Come back in twenty minutes. I’ll be ready.”
A bar, Rachel thought a half hour later. She should have known Zack would spend his night off on a busman’s holiday. Actually, she supposed it was more of a club. There was a three-piece band playing the blues on a small raised stage, and there were a handful of couples dancing on a tiny square of floor surrounded by tables. From the way he was greeted by the waitress, he was obviously no stranger.
Within moments they were settled at a table in a shadowy corner, with a glass of wine for her and a mug of beer for him.
“I come for the music,” he explained. “But the food’s good, too. That’s not something I mention to Rio.”
“Since I’ve seen the way he slices a club sandwich, I can’t hold that against you.” She squinted at the tiny menu. “What do you recommend?”
“Trust me.” His thigh brushed hers as he shifted closer to toy with the stones dangling at her ear. He smiled at her narrowed eyes. “And try the grilled chicken.”
She discovered he could be trusted, at least when it came to food. Enjoying every bite, lulled by the music, she began to relax. “You said the navy was a family tradition. Is that why you joined, really?”
“I wanted to get out.” He nursed a second beer, appreciating the way she plowed through the meal. He’d always been attracted to a woman with an appetite. “I wanted to see the world. I only figured on the four years, but then I re-upped.”
“Why?”
“I got used to being part of a crew, and I liked the life. Looking out and seeing nothing but water, or watching the land pull away when you headed out. Coming into port and seeing a place you’d never seen before.”
“In nearly ten years I imagine you saw a lot of places.”
“The Mediterranean, the South Pacific, the Indian Ocean, the Persian Gulf. Froze my…fingers off in the North Atlantic and watched sharks feed in the Coral Sea.”
Both fascinated and amused, she propped her elbows on the table. “Did you know you didn’t mention one land mass? Doesn’t one body of water look pretty much like another from the deck of a ship?”
“No.” He didn’t think he could explain, knew he wasn’t lyrical enough to describe the varying hues of the water, the subtle degrees of the power of the deep. What it felt like to watch dolphins run, or whales sound. “I guess you could say that a body of water has its own personality, just like a body of land does.”
“You do miss it.”
“It gets in your blood. How about you? Is the law a Stanislaski family tradition?”
“No.” Under the table, her foot began to tap to the beat of the bass. “My father’s a carpenter. So was his father.”
“Why law?”
“Because I’d grown up in a family who’d known oppression. They escaped Ukraine with what they could carry in a wagon—in the winter through the mountains—eventually reaching Austria. I was born here, the first of my family to be born here.”
“It sounds as though you regret it.”
He was astute, she decided. More astute than she’d given him credit for. “I suppose I regret not being a part of both sides. They haven’t forgotten what it was like to taste freedom for the first time. I’ve never known anything but freedom. Freedom and justice go hand in hand.”
“Some might say you could be serving justice in a nice, cushy law firm.”
“Some might.”
“You had offers.” When her brows lifted, he shrugged. “You’re representing my brother. I checked on you. Graduated top of your class at NYCC, passed the bar first shot, then turned down three very lucrative offers from three very prestigious firms to work for peanuts as a public defender. I had to figure either you were crazy or dedicated.”
She swallowed a little bubble of temper and nodded. “And you left the navy with a chestful of medals, including the Silver Star. Your file includes, along with a few reprimands for insubordination, a personal letter of gratitude from an admiral for your courage during a rescue at sea in a hurricane.” Enjoying his squirm of embarrassment, she lifted her glass in toast. “I checked, too.”
“We were talking about you,” he began.
“No. You were.” Smiling, she cupped her chin on her hand. “So tell me, Muldoon, why did you turn down a shot at officer candidate school?”
“Didn’t want to be a damn officer,” he muttered. Rising, he grabbed her hand and hauled her to her feet. “Let’s dance.”
She chuckled as he dragged her onto the crowded dance floor. “You’re blushing.”
“I am not. And shut up.”
Rachel tucked her tongue in her cheek. “It must be hell being a hero.”
“Here’s the deal.” Zack held her lightly by the arms on the edge of the dance floor. “You drop the stuff about medals and admirals, and I won’t mention that you were class valedictorian.”