Free Lancelot of the Pines (Louisiana Knights Book 1) by Jennifer Blake Page B

felt sorry for me. He liked to take on underdog cases now and then, when he thought he could win.”
    “But he didn’t. Win, that is.”
    “He said he could get probation for me, but it didn’t happen.”
    “You were sentenced to five years instead.”
    It was the first of many promises Bruce hadn’t kept. “He was sorry about that, I guess, because he came to see me at the correction center, brought me books and hand lotion and all the other little comforts families usually bring. He did arrange parole after four years. When I was released, he took me home with him.”
    “So you married him.”
    It wasn’t that simple, but she was pretty sure Lance wouldn’t understand. “A year or so later, yes. He was—was kind and acted as if he cared. I had nowhere else to go. One thing led to another.”
    “I’ll bet it did.”
    Her smile was crooked. “You try being barely eighteen years old and just out, no family or job prospects, and see what happens.”
    He made no answer, but sat studying her with concentration in his eyes. It was as if he was willing her to say something more, something incriminating.
    She refused. He was the one who wanted to talk about Bruce, not her.
    “When did he put everything he owned in your name?”
    “What?” He couldn’t have said what she thought, couldn’t have meant it if he’d said it.
    “All his assets; the house and other investment properties, cars, boat, bank accounts—everything was signed over to you. Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”
    She could only shake her head. “He never mentioned it. It must be a tax dodge of some kind. He hated paying taxes.”
    “He never gave you documents to sign.”
    Her heart gave a small leap in her chest. “Insurance papers, or so he said, though he gave me no chance to read them, seemed to think I wouldn’t understand the fine print. He was older, and wanted to be sure I was taken care of if anything happened to him. Oh, and then there were the papers for the car he bought for me.”
    “A car.”
    “Yes, but he took the keys after—that is, about a year ago.”
    “Why was that?”
    “I guess he was afraid I might drive off and leave him.”
    He took a moment to digest that, too. “This would be the same car you wrecked after being abducted at the shopping mall?”
    Hot color rose in her face. “It wasn’t as if I had a choice! Or should have to feel bad about using my own car, for that matter. It was just—when Bruce didn’t come home that evening, I saw an opportunity to get out of the house for a while.”
    “You went shopping.”
    “It was something to do besides drive around. I didn’t realize—I thought he would be back later in the night.”
    “I see.”
    In those few seconds, he lowered his eyes to her hem that had ridden up again. A muscle tightened in his jaw before he looked away. She grabbed for the stretchy fabric to halt its progress. Grasping for a change of subject as well, she said, “I hope Granny Chauvin got her car back okay that we borrowed. I’d hate if anything happened to it.”
    “It was returned safe and sound. Trey saw to it.”
    “No nicks or scrapes. No bullet holes.”
    A grim smile touched his mouth, though it was hard to tell if it was from amazement that she would care what happened to Granny Chauvin’s property or because she’d noticed where he was looking. For a split second, it crossed her mind to let the hem go and find out what he’d do if he saw she was naked under Trey’s old shirt.
    The chance never came. It was taken away by the hum of a vehicle. It grew louder, riding hard, the sound rising and falling as it bounced over the rough track. It was headed straight toward their sanctuary among the trees.

    Lance saw Mandy’s eyes widen and the sudden clench of her hand into a fist. He could relieve her fear with a few words, but he hesitated.
    Anger simmered inside him at the way he was taken in by her. He’d been convinced she was a useless society type, so accustomed