“He can give you protection,” Kiki argued. She was dressed in her normal Bohemian garb: a peasant blouse and a flowy skirt. She somehow managed to make it sexy. “You have to take this seriously. Whoever sent you that threat knew your personal e-mail.”

“But there wasn’t anything specific about the threat,” Tom argued, then turned to Kiki. “In fact, I’m not even sure it was a threat. Maybe we’re freaking out about nothing. What are the real odds that someone’s put this all together? There are rumors everywhere about who runs CS, and not a one of them mentions you, Lara.”

She wasn’t sure that was true. What else could someone know about her? She was Senator Armstrong’s vegan hippie daughter, whom everyone in the Republican party knew not to put on camera because she would use the opportunity to talk about policy as she saw it.

There really wasn’t anything else about her that would be considered even slightly gossip-worthy. Good grades in the right schools. A degree in political science that would probably lead to law school when she found the time someday. She’d broken her engagement an acceptable amount of time before the wedding. She hadn’t even dated in the two years since she and Tom had broken up. Capitol Scandals was the sum of her “nefarious” existence. She’d put everything she had into it, and she was finally scenting something big.

Could this new threat have anything to do with the anonymous stranger who claimed to know what really happened to Maddox Crawford? He’d hinted that if she figured out the truth, the trail would lead to something much bigger.

She merely needed to find a woman named Natalia Kuilikov. Just find one Russian immigrant, and the yellow brick road would open up and take her straight to Oz.

Lara found it interesting that her first big case and her first death threat had come so close together.

“I don’t know that there’s no threat, but simply figuring out who I am doesn’t mean someone intends to kill me. I might have overstated that,” she admitted.

“To your Internet guy?” Kiki wasn’t Niall’s biggest fan. She might have mentioned on more than one occasion that he was likely a middle-aged creep looking for some online hookup. “He’s the one you told, even before you told me. Before you told Tom. I hate to say it, but you seem to have some stake in the guy, and that’s why you’re listening to him.”

“Maybe you should listen to the people who have been with you for years. What do we know about this Niall guy? Next to nothing. You can’t just let this random dude start to dictate your life.” Tom hopped off his barstool. He straightened his V-neck tee. “I’ve got to run. We have oral arguments on the McNally case tomorrow. Lara, call me if you need me. You know I’m always here for you.” He walked away.

Tom clerked for an appellate judge, so he was always talking about oral arguments and drafting opinions. She had to admit, watching Tom was one of the reasons she hadn’t given in to her parents’ pressure and gone to law school. He was endlessly writing other people’s opinions. She wanted to make up her own mind.

“Holy jeez.” Kiki’s eyes went wide as she stared beyond the door through which Tom had exited moments ago. “I think my mouth just watered. I finally understand what that means.”

“What?” Lara turned and caught sight of a man in jeans and a T-shirt. He stood right outside the coffeehouse, his cell phone against his ear.

His shoulders were so wide they almost spanned the window. He had to be six and a half feet tall, and his T-shirt molded to every muscle and sinew of his lean strength.

He turned slightly, his profile coming into view. Lara realized then that mouthwatering was really just an elevated term. Drooling was more accurate. The man was stunning. His jaw looked perfectly square, though the lines of his face were far too angular to be beautiful. His dark blond hair was cut in an almost military style, accentuating his features. Manly. Handsome. Sexy.

His lips suddenly curled up in the hottest smirk she’d ever seen.

Caveman. Alpha male. Probably straight off some military base. She could appreciate him on an aesthetic level, but she preferred her men a little more civilized. “He’s very nice looking, Kiki.”

Kiki groaned. “Nice looking? There is nothing ‘nice’ about him. He’s dirty. He’s bad. And you can’t dare call him a boy because he’s all man.”

Lara adjusted her glasses. “I like Niall more.”

Niall had perfect surfer hair and the sweetest face.

“You’ve never met Niall.”

She shrugged. “Niall is more my type.”

“And by that you mean a thousand miles away and unobtainable. Safe.” Kiki slapped the table. “Damn it, it’s time you got laid. How long has it been?”

“Not long.” She put her head down and mumbled. “Two years.”

Kiki gasped. “You haven’t slept with anyone since Tom? Oh my god. I never imagined it was this bad. I thought you just didn’t want to talk about it.”

“I talk to you about everything and you didn’t think I would mention a couple of one-night stands somewhere in there?” Her eyes trailed back to Caveman Hottie. He really was amazing to gawk at. The slightest hint of a beard spread across his jaw. Though he’d probably shaved this morning, his masculinity wouldn’t be denied.

“It’s a muscle, you know. You have to use it to keep it healthy. I think your vajayjay has atrophied. That’s why you can’t think straight about this death threat stuff.”

“It’s not a muscle,” Lara argued. But it probably had atrophied . . . and maybe grown a few cobwebs because she hadn’t even played around down there herself in the longest time. She hadn’t had time. Even in her head she sounded prim, like she was already collecting cats and preparing for old-maid-dom.

She had a sudden vision of that caveman putting his hands on her. Big hands. They wouldn’t be soft. When he touched her, she would be able to feel every callous and rough edge of his skin. He would have working hands, hands that had built things and protected people. He wouldn’t ask her what she wanted. No, he wouldn’t hesitate to give her what he thought she needed.

“Um, do you want to borrow my sweater?” Kiki’s question forced her out of her daydream.

“No. Why?” Lara turned, not wanting to get caught staring.

“Yours is really thin and your nipples are giving this group a show,” she pointed out.

Lara crossed her arms over her ridiculously erect nipples. “Guess I was a little cold.”

Kiki gave her a skeptical glare. “How about we go and introduce ourselves to the hottie and see if we can buy him a coffee. Or better yet, we could take him to the bar next door, get him tipsy, and have our wicked way with him.”

“Our?”

“There’s a reason I’m known as Kinky Kiki, hon.” She grinned, looking back at the caveman. “I’ll go talk to him and you can join us after you interview the bodyguard.” She glanced down at her watch. “He’s late.”

Lara checked her phone. Sure enough, she was supposed to have met the mysterious Connor five minutes ago. She’d gotten here early enough to have a cup of tea, but then she’d actually been instructed to meet him . . . outside.

Oh, god. Lara nearly fell off her seat. There was only one person standing outside the coffeehouse.

That glorious hunk of man.

“Kiki?” she squeaked.

Her friend settled a designer bag over her shoulder. Lara had tried to convince her to buy a purse from some Nepalese women’s organization that supported indigenous children, but Kiki had replied that when Louis Vuitton supported them, she would, too. “Yes?”

“I think that’s my bodyguard.”