Free Immortal Healer by Elizabeth Finn

offensive to her at this point. “…to the PTSD, then we may be able to argue a lesser charge or at least a lesser sentence. If we’re very lucky, the prosecution will decide they’re too busy to try this case and offer a good plea bargain. With my reputation, and I’m not trying to sound arrogant,” Yes he was. “…they’ll be more apt to offer a plea bargain than were you being represented by public defense.”
    “So, you’ll agree to represent her?” Quentin watched the man impassively, and Mr. Devlin’s eyes passed from one to the other of them. Her heart fluttered. She wanted him to agree. She may not like the man, but he’d come recommended, and he had an exceptional reputation. And for the first time since this nightmarish post-Mason chapter of her life began, someone was trying to help her. Not the lawyer; he would simply be doing his job and hopefully doing it well. It was Quentin. She wanted to believe there might be light again. And at the same time, she didn’t want to believe it. It was frightening to imagine in some ways. She wanted to go back to her life, and yet she didn’t know if she could ever fit in there again.
    “Yes.”
    Quentin’s fingers curled against her skin, and he slid his palm around the side of her hand to hold hers, giving her a gentle squeeze. “You have my number, you know how to reach her public defender to get up to speed, and you know her court date. Call when you need to.” Quentin stood, and she followed his lead. His hand stayed on hers, and they walked from the office together hand in hand. She didn’t think of pulling away, and he didn’t remove his hand from hers until they were out of the building, and he was helping her into his car.
    She didn’t quite understand the intimacy between them—not at all in fact, but she sure did like it. It popped up constantly when they were together. She’d been staying with him a week, and she’d been nearly comatose for the first few day, but there was something about the way her skin prickled when it brushed past his. He didn’t act as though there was anything wrong with touching her, though his touch was always innocent and gentle, and today was no different. His hand on her wrist was soothing to her heightened anger at Devlin’s approach, and it was his confidence in touching her that put her at ease.
    She watched him cross in front of his car as warmth and desire pulsed between her legs. He was incredibly handsome and strong. Just watching the confidence of his gait, the casual way he held his keys in his hand, and the calm and cool expression that never seemed to leave his face, left wetness surging to her sex. It was more than odd. It was shocking she was being so … normal.
    When he climbed in, his eyes fluttered closed as she glanced to him, and his nostrils flared as he breathed in deeply. “Care to tell me what you’re thinking about?” Yeah right, but his eyes flashed open to hers. It was a knowing expression, even though impressively impassive. She could feel her cheeks burn.
    “No.” He wasn’t fooled. “So, do you have any … like … special powers or … like … uh…”
    “Mind reading?”
    Well, that was exactly what she was thinking, and she cocked her head as she looked to him. Wasn’t that proof enough?
    “Yes.” She was almost whispering. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.
    “No.” She breathed a sigh of relief as he started the car, but before pulling into traffic, he turned toward her, studying her eyes. “But I do have an exceptional sense of smell—hormones, slight fluctuations in body chemistry. All those lovely things that tell me exactly what’s going on inside of that mind of yours.” His smirk was almost imperceptible, and she gasped as his gaze returned to the road. Holy shit! She clamped her hands into fists as her panic ratcheted up a notch, and when he glanced back, he spoke again. “Relax.” And then he pulled into traffic as she stared at the