Make Me Melt by Karen Foley Page B

distance.
    “Do you enjoy it?”
    “Sometimes it’s emotionally grueling,” she admitted, thinking of Devon’s case, “but I can’t imagine doing anything else.”
    “Family law, huh?” he mused, his lips twitching. “Who would have thought?”
    Caroline flushed. “There’s actually quite a bit of casework involved. And we’re talking wealthy clients. You can’t take that lightly.”
    “Of course not. Do they pay you well?”
    “I get by.” Caroline thought of her small apartment in a modest section of the city. If she accepted the job offer from the district attorney’s office, she’d need to find more affordable housing, or advertise for a roommate. The cut in pay that came with that job meant she wouldn’t be able to stay in her apartment without making some lifestyle changes. But the thought of downsizing didn’t alarm her. She’d done a lot of growing up since she’d left for Richmond, and she’d realized that material wealth no longer gave her the same pleasure it had when she was young.
    Jason frowned, reading her expression. “If you’re struggling, why wouldn’t you just ask the judge to help you? Christ, Caroline, you have a trust fund.”
    “I don’t want to rely on my father or on my trust fund,” she replied. “I want to succeed on my own merits, the same way you did.”
    He leaned forward, and she saw a muscle flex in his jaw. “You think I got here on my own?” he asked. “If it weren’t for your father, I’d be dead or in prison. I only got this far because of him. He literally saved my life.”
    She made a dismissive noise. “That’s not what I mean. He might have pointed you in the right direction, but you did the rest on your own.”
    Jason lounged back in his chair and considered her. “So you’re telling me that you don’t dip into your trust fund at all?”
    Hearing the disbelief in his voice, Caroline raised her chin. “It’s true. I haven’t touched a cent of it since I was in college.”
    “So you’re spending your salary on—what?” He indicated her outfit. “Clothes? Because even a simple guy like me knows designer clothing when I see it.”
    “I buy this stuff secondhand. You’d be surprised how many upscale consignment shops there are in Richmond, and how many prominent women use them.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You think because my father is wealthy that I just blow through money? That I spend all my free time shopping?”
    He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, I’m sorry. I just seem to remember that you spent a lot of time at the mall as a teenager, and you’d come home with more shopping bags than you could carry. I just assumed that you use your trust fund to underwrite your current lifestyle. If that’s not the case, then I apologize. No offense intended.”
    She narrowed her eyes at him. “You once accused me of being spoiled and getting whatever I wanted—”
    He shot her a quelling look, causing her to clamp her mouth shut.
    “You did,” she insisted, after a long moment, keeping her tone cool. “That last night at the beach house, when I was sixteen. You said my problem was that I always got whatever I wanted, even when it wasn’t good for me.”
    He stared at her, his expression dark. “Caroline, whatever I said that night, I said out of self-preservation. You were sixteen. I would have said anything to get you to leave me alone.”
    She gave a bitter laugh. “Whatever. I wasn’t woman enough for you, right? My boobs weren’t big enough, and I had no experience. Why bother with a scrawny teenage virgin when you could have a real woman, right?”
    Jason made a growling sound of annoyance and rose to his feet. Planting his hands on the table, he leaned toward her, and it took all Caroline’s resolve not to cringe from the heat and anger she saw reflected in his eyes. She stared boldly back at him instead.
    “Is that what you think?” he said through gritted teeth. “Well, here’s the truth. I was barely