Have you ever met someone who makes your blood boil simply by existing? Or turn your notorious, ice-cool demeanor volcanic in a nanosecond? Perhaps smother your usual air of indifference with a lightning-charged thundercloud, threatening to strike at any moment?
Because that's what she does.
It's been seven peaceful years since I last saw Beulah Holmes. Seven peaceful years of practicing the law without her arguing against me, and if I never saw her again it would be too soon; but I'm not that fortunate.
She hasn't changed a bit.
Still the same shouty mouth threatening to burst my eardrums. Still the same murderous eyes which laser through me, promising to reign Hell. Except this time, the longer I have to sit opposite her, the longer I have to notice that the murderous eyes are also the most beautiful I've ever seen. And that shouty mouth with its full lips curled up in a snarl? I want to know what else it can do.
As each day passes, hating her isn't the only thing becoming harder. Beulah Holmes was my own personal devil, until the day I realized she wasn't . . .
And then I made it my mission to bring her back from Hell.
