Free THE PROSECUTOR by Adrienne Giordano

weakness.”
    Unbelievable . “Your sister just said that to me! Right before you got into the car. I’m not kidding.”
    He shrugged. “We learned from the master. Now, where shall we eat?”

Chapter Six
    Emma set the steaming hot plate of pasta in front of her last customer and did the can-I-get-you-anything-else spiel. As usual, her feet and body ached from the Saturday-night rush, but she’d go home with a fat wad of cash to plop down on her next tuition payment, so there wasn’t a lot to complain about.
    From the corner of her eye, she spotted someone sliding into a booth. Really? Closing in thirty minutes and people were still being seated in her section? She headed to the new customer and analyzed the back of his blond head. Couldn’t be.
    Then he turned sideways and—yep—Zac Hennings. Her heart seized, along with every other part of her. Why would he be here when he’d told her he and Penny would be spending the night at their parents’ lake house? Something’s wrong.
    The creepy detective. His son probably fell off the face of the earth. Or they cleared him.
    Wouldn’t that be her luck?
    In the back of her mind, a nagging, paralyzing, incessant fear that sometimes dulled, but never truly vanished, roared with full force. Images flashed through her mind of Brian’s bloody body, laid out on a prison floor where he’d bled to death after a prison brawl.
    Don’t think about it .
    Zac shifted sideways and peered over his shoulder, his expression neutral. If he’d at least smile, her fear would go back into hibernation. Come on, Zac . But his lips remained...well...flat. He waved, but she stood still, half-terrified to step closer and hear whatever news he had to deliver.
    Then, as if sensing her panic, he finally waved her over. She breathed in, ignored her pounding heart and forced her feet to move. Perhaps whatever he had to say wasn’t so bad after all.
    She stopped in front of his table. He wore navy slacks and a white dress shirt, no tie. Must have come straight from dinner with his folks. Translation: bad news. Horrible news, if he’d driven from Wisconsin to deliver it.
    He squeezed her wrist and the connection, all that warm male heat, sparked.
    “Everything is fine,” he said.
    Emma dropped her chin to her chest and breathed. With each exhalation, her pulse slowed a notch and she focused on releasing the tension that had wound her body so tightly. How had she gotten so accustomed to bad news that her mind always went straight there? After a few seconds, her composure restored, she lifted her head. “I got nervous when I saw you.”
    “I can tell.”
    She stole a glance at her customers. Everyone was busy eating. She went back to Zac. “I’m sorry. Prosecutors usually bring bad news. I’ve been conditioned.”
    “I understand.” His lips quirked in a subtle, mischievous way and tingles shot up her arms. “Maybe I can break the trend.”
    We can’t have that. She had no room left for personal sinkholes and Zac Hennings was one giant sinkhole waiting to swallow her up. If her brother’s freedom weren’t involved, there would be no question that she’d be on this man like nobody’s business. But right now, Zac’s job was to keep her brother incarcerated.
    She could flirt with the charming prosecutor, though. No harm in that. “If anyone can, it’s you. Why are you here? I thought you went to Wisconsin.”
    “I did. We had dinner and I decided to come home. Penny stayed with my folks. They’ll all come back tomorrow.”
    “So you’re not here for dinner.”
    He grinned. “Wicked smart you are.”
    Oh, that smile—charming and slick and devilish. The man knew his way around a woman’s heart. And most likely other body parts as well.
    Bad, Emma . Bad.
    “I’m here because I don’t want you going home by yourself. I’ll follow you and make sure you don’t have any unexpected visitors.”
    If ever there was something to make her shamelessly sigh, it was that statement right