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meeting hers and her lips softening in acceptance.
    He exhaled, and his next breath was filled with her enticing scent, making his fists clench and his groin harden in unmistakable need. He acknowledged that he wanted more than a simple kiss. He wanted Chelsie.
    With that notion, stark reality and the reasons for his visit came flooding back hard and fast. His fingers, which he’d wrapped around her sweatshirt, uncurled as he released his hold and stepped back.
    Chelsie simply stared, her moist lips mocking his current attempt at restraint. He’d been a damned fool, responding to a woman who angered him beyond belief, who made flippant offers to help and reneged when faced with the reality of her words, who toyed with a child’s life. With that reminder, he backed as far away as the small hallway would allow.
    “Well?” he asked, letting impatience spark in his voice. Better than the sparks that had flown just seconds earlier. Their physical attraction was an inconsequential but annoying fact, one he could ignore with enough willpower. After her easy rejection of his niece and her problems, that shouldn’t be too hard. Or so he told himself, knowing he’d spend a ridiculous amount of time trying to convince himself of that fact.
    “Well what?” she asked in a none-too-steady voice.
    “I was on my way out. You followed. I assume you wanted something?”
    She flushed a deep crimson at his choice of words. To her credit, though, she ignored his sarcasm.
    “Come back and sit down,” she said. “We aren’t finished yet.” She folded her arms across her chest and met his steady gaze.
    “I have my answer.”
    “But not my reasons. I intend to give them to you, so sit down and listen for once.” She brushed past him, shaking her head as she walked. Her decidedly feminine scent lingered in the air, hitting him like a blow to his midsection. Lilacs? He suppressed a groan. Chelsie Russell gave new meaning to this concept of self-control.
    She cleared her throat, and he met her gaze. From the center of the living room, she motioned for him to join her. “How do you practice law if you haven’t learned to listen?” she asked.
    He listened—to everyone except Chelsie. With her, he reacted without thinking. That included leaping to unflattering conclusions without regard to the facts. Even when he heard what she had to say, he dismissed her words as meaningless.
    Yet he had gone so far as to ask for her help. He had passed the contemplation stage and had actually wanted to have her around his niece, so he must have sensed some thread of decency in her nature. Despite what had just passed between them, she was right. He did owe her the chance to explain.
    He groaned and followed her back inside to reclaim his position on the couch. “I’m listening.”
    “Okay.” She leaned forward in her seat. “There’s a lot more involved with your request than you realize. Asking me to give you a regimented schedule wouldn’t work for any of us. My life is… let’s just say it’s complicated,” she said.
    “How so?”
    “My career. I work twelve-, sometimes fifteen-hour days, weekends included. Even then, my desk backs up.”
    That she’d put her practice before her own niece shouldn’t surprise him. She’d hardly spent much time with the little girl before now. But he could overcome this objection with ease. “You could come by for supper. You’d have to eat anyway.”
    “At my desk, or on the run. As it is, I have to refer more clients than I like. Long dinners would put me even further behind.” Sound reasoning, but for some reason, she couldn’t meet his gaze. Perhaps she wasn’t as confident in rejecting him as she’d like him to believe.
    Sure as Alix would suffer from another restless night, Griff knew he would regret this. But the words escaped before he could think them through. “I could take on some of your work, lighten your caseload.”
    She stared. “I couldn’t ask you…”
    “You didn’t.