Vixen (Dark Protectors #11.5) - Rebecca Zanetti Page 0,44

has dreamed about him. Now here he is—his eyes blue, his chest wide, and his hands in cuffs.

Sure, Aiden says he doesn’t want her help, and his ties to a deadly motorcycle club should give her warning. Yes, her new boss is a sexy Italian bad boy who might be using the case to climb to the top. Plus, the detective assigned to the case, with his green eyes and broad shoulders, wants her to stay out of his way.

With so much testosterone surrounding her all of a sudden, most women would find it hard to concentrate. This might be why the case leads Anna to yelp during a spa appointment, fall out of a tree, and chase a naked old man around the courtroom. It’s a good thing Anna learned a long time ago to be her own hero, no matter how fast the bullets fly or the kisses consume.

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Excerpt:

Ducking my head, I took a sharp right, hit the end of the street, and turned for the courthouse. The building had been erected when the timber companies and the mines had been prosperous in the area and was made of deep mahogany and real marble brought in from Italy. Instead of walking downstairs like I had the last two weeks, I climbed up a floor to the district court level. It even smelled different than the lower floors. More like lemon polish and something serious. Oh yeah. Life and death and felonies. My knees wobbled, so I straightened my blue pencil skirt and did a quick check of my white blouse to make sure I hadn’t pitted out.

Nope. Good. I shouldn’t be too scared, because the pseudo-metropolis of Timber City had only 49,000 residents, roughly the same as a large state college. But compared to my hometown of Silverville, which was about fifty miles east through a mountain pass, this was the big city.

My wedges squeaked on the gleaming floor. I pushed open the heavy door and made my way past the pews to the desk to the right, facing the judge’s tall bench. My temples started to thrum. I remained standing at the table and set down the case files before flipping open the first one.

A commotion sounded, and two men strode in from the back, both wearing fancy gray suits. I recognized the first man, and an odd relief took me again, even though he was clearly there as the defendant’s attorney and on the opposite side of the aisle as me. “Mr. O’Malley,” I murmured.

He held out his hand. “Call me Chuck, Anna.” He was a fishing buddy of my dad’s and had been for years. “They’ve thrown you into District Court already?”

I shifted my feet. “It’s a long story.” That would be public shortly. “The DEA took Scot away in handcuffs,” I said.

Chuck straightened, his gray eyebrows shooting up. “Charges?”

“The warrant said something about narcotics.” We were on different sides right now, and Chuck was a phenomenal criminal defense attorney, but the truth was the truth and would be out anyway. “He probably needs a good lawyer.”

“I’ll check it out after this hearing.” Chuck’s eyes gleamed the same way they did when my Nonna Albertini brought her apple pie to a community picnic. He nodded at his client, a guy in his late twenties with a trimmed goatee and thinning hair. “This is Ralph Ceranio. He’s pleading not guilty today.”

Thank goodness. That just meant we would set things for trial.

Chuck smiled. “Unless you agree to dismiss.”

I smiled back. “I’d like to keep my job for another week.” Probably. “So no.”

Chuck turned as the bailiff entered through a side door by the bench and told everyone to stand, even though we were already standing. Then Judge Hallenback swept in.

Oh my. My mouth dropped open, and I quickly snapped it shut. It was rumored the judge had been going downhill for some time, and I was thinking that for once, rumors were right. While he had to only be in his mid-sixties, maybe he had early dementia? Today he wore a customary black robe with a charming red bow tie visible above the fold. It contrasted oddly with the bright purple hat with tassels hanging down on top of his head. A bunch of colorful drawn dots covered his left hand while a gray and white striped kitten was cradled in his right, and he hummed the anthem to Baby Got Back as he walked.

He set the cat down and banged his gavel, opening