Two divorce lawyers determined to share only beds but not hearts discover that love is something that can’t be overruled in this steamy contemporary romance by Lana Ferguson, Danica Pierce has one great love in her life: work. As one of the top divorce lawyers in Chicago, Danica lets her caseload keep her warm at night and has no problem being married to her job, not when love only ends in hurt. When the biggest case of her career gives her a shot at making partner, it seems like nothing could possibly stand in her way…except for her infuriating secret: she’s sleeping with the enemy. Ezra Hart is known for charming his way in and out of a courtroom. In the matter of winning Danica Pierce’s heart, however, he’s been far less successful. With her verdict to keep things purely physical with no chance of appeal, Ezra struggles to show Danica he’s more than the insufferable playboy she’s pegged him to be--especially since they find themselves on opposing sides of Danica’s most important case to date. While Dani and Ezra battle it out in the courtroom, the real trial is the one happening between them. When Dani realizes that everything she knows of Ezra might be hearsay--and that she’s not the only one with emotional baggage--she must choose between her fear of trusting again and the feelings blossoming between her and the man she thought was her worst enemy.

Autorentext

Lana Ferguson is a USA Today bestselling author and sex-positive nerd whose works never shy from spice or sass. A faded Fabio cover found its way into her hands at fifteen, and she’s never been the same since. When she isn’t writing, you can find her randomly singing show tunes, arguing over which Batman is superior, and subjecting her friends to the extended editions of The Lord of the Rings. Lana lives mostly in her own head but can sometimes be found chasing her corgi through the coppice of the great American outdoors.

Klappentext

**A USA Today Bestseller

Two divorce lawyers determined to share only beds but not hearts discover that love is something that can’t be overruled in this steamy contemporary romance by Lana Ferguson, USA Today bestselling author of The Game Changer.**

Danica Pierce has one great love in her life: work. As one of the top divorce lawyers in Austin, Danica lets her caseload keep her warm at night and has no problem being married to her job, not when love only ends in hurt. When the biggest case of her career gives her a shot at making partner, it seems like nothing could possibly stand in her way…except for her infuriating secret: she’s sleeping with the enemy.

Ezra Hart is known for charming his way in and out of a courtroom. In the matter of winning Danica Pierce’s heart, however, he’s been far less successful. With her verdict to keep things purely physical with no chance of appeal, Ezra struggles to show Danica he’s more than the insufferable playboy she’s pegged him to be—especially since they find themselves on opposing sides of Danica’s most important case to date.

While Dani and Ezra battle it out in the courtroom, the real trial is the one happening between them. When Dani realizes that everything she knows of Ezra might be hearsay—and that she’s not the only one with emotional baggage—she must choose between her fear of trusting again and the feelings blossoming between her and the man she thought was her worst enemy.

Leseprobe
One

Dani

"Objection. Leading the witness."

I bite my tongue, quietly seething as I resist the urge to look back at the owner of the deep, honeyed voice calling out in a bored tone.

"Let me rephrase," I say as evenly as I can manage, keeping my attention on the man in front of me. "You said in your statement that you would often see a visitor coming to the house while Mrs. Johanson was home alone. Is that correct, Mr. Crane?"

The man nods, peeking warily at the woman in question. "That's correct."

"And during those visits, where was Mr. Johanson?"

"He was usually at work, ma'am."

"And this visitor, was it a man or a woman?"

"It was a man."

I bite back a grin. "I see. How long would this man stay?"

Mr. Crane reaches to scratch at his thinning hair, shifting in his seat. It had taken me a hell of a lot to get him on the stand; in the end it was only because of Mr. Johanson's promise that he would keep his gardening job regardless of the outcome of this trial that he finally agreed.

"It varied," Mr. Crane said. "Sometimes an hour. Sometimes more."

"So it's safe to assume that Mrs. Johanson knew this man . . . well, correct?"

"Objection." I hear a sigh behind me. "Speculation."

"Rephrase," I say tightly, still refusing to look at him. It's clear he's only objecting to trip me up at this point, since the basis is ridiculous. "Did you ever see Mrs. Johanson and the man interacting when he would visit, Mr. Crane?"

Mr. Crane shakes his head. "No, ma'am. He always went straight inside the house."

"But it was always the same man?"

"Yes, ma'am. As far as I could tell."

I know any other attempts to steer this conversation to the obvious truth of Mrs. Johanson's infidelity will only result in more bullshit objections from my opposing counsel.

"Thank you, Mr. Crane." I give my attention to Judge Hoffstein. "No further questions, Your Honor."

I try not to look at him when I return to my table, I really do-but that pull is there, the one I so desperately wish didn't plague me anytime we're in the same room together. I can feel his eyes linger on me when I'm finally able to avert my gaze, feel them like the weight of his fingers along my skin as I retake my seat.

He stands slowly, one hand reaching to fasten the button of his suit-a deft, practiced motion that makes the tendons in his too-large hands flex-and I can't help the way my eyes are drawn there, remembering the warmth of them on my body hardly even a week ago. I catch a hint of a smirk when I turn my face to meet his eyes, feeling warmth creep up my neck as I clench my teeth.

Fucking Ezra Hart.

I train my eyes forward, keeping them on the nervous older man on the stand, in quiet support.

"Mr. Crane," Ezra starts. "Did you know Mrs. Johanson's visitor?"

"No, sir," Mr. Crane answers. "I was told that-"

"That's hearsay," Ezra cuts him off. "What you heard is irrelevant." He shoves his hands in his pockets, strolling casually to the side and flicking his gaze to mine for the briefest of moments. "I'm asking if you ever actually met Mrs. Johanson's visitor."

Mr. Crane's eyes dart to mine, looking unsure. "Well, no, I didn't."

"So there's no possible way for you to know the purpose of that man's visits. Correct?"

Mr. Crane is quiet for a moment, and my heart thuds in my ribs. There's no way that Ezra can possibly suggest-

"No, sir," Mr. Crane answers. "I could not."

"I see." Ezra's mouth turns up in the ghost of a smile. "Just as you couldn't know of Mrs. Johanson's recent interests in spiritual direction?"

"I . . ." Mr. Crane blinks with confusion, and I can feel the same emotion playing on Mr. Johanson's and my faces. "No? I didn't know that."

"Of course you didn't," Ezra practically coos. "It's not something she advertised. The only people who knew this were her close friends. Well, and her husband, of course." Ezra looks back at our table. "Although I very much doubt Mr. Johanson would recall this, given that he rarely took note of Mrs. Johanson's interests."

"Objection," I call. "Speculation."

"Withdrawn," Ezra says with a grin. "Mr. Crane, did you know that the man you saw coming in and out of Mrs. Johanson's house was her spiritual advisor?"

Oh, what a load of horseshit.

"Objection, Your Ho…