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scrutinized the man. How the hell do I know? barked Shawn. He s a sadistic bastard The last word caught in his throat as Ciarra was ushered by two female officers into the room. He moved to go to her, but Taryn s hand tightened on his arm, stilling him. You can t approach her, Shawn, warned Taryn. Now sit down. Shawn shook off Taryn s hold. Shawn, sit down! When his gaze met Ciarra s, she bowed her head, breaking the connection. Fuck. He wanted to hold her. Tell her everything was going to be all right. He wanted to peel her navy blue suit off, feel the silk of her white shirt slip through his fingers before he revealed her breasts. His fingers dug into the wooden barrier separating them. His cock grew firm, his balls drew tight. The memory of her kiss, the smell of her skin was the only thing that had kept him going over the last week. He needed to touch her, hold her. Shawn, you re making her nervous. Now sit the fuck down. Taryn s voice was a whisper. Still, the iron in her tone drove him down upon the bench. Ciarra moved directly in front of him and took a seat, her back facing him. Her unique scent of sunflowers caressed his senses. Leaning forward, he reached out to touch her, his hand stopping midair when his gaze met his sister s glare. A glare that said, Touch her and you re dead. In fact, the two female officers moved closer, their hands resting on their laser wands. The air crackled, electricity shooting between them as if it were alive. Her hair was pulled back in a long braid and he had the urge to release it. To feel his fingers slip through her cool tresses, to feel them slide across his body. He gulped down a breath he 142 The Charade hadn t even known he d been holding. God, he needed to hold her, part her thighs and delve between her legs to reinforce in his mind as well as hers that she was his. But there would be time for that later. Right now he needed to focus. If anyone could prove Ciarra s innocence, Taryn could. His sister knew people, knew the system and if he knew Taryn she had already primed the pump even before the proceedings got underway. Taryn and Ciarra stood and faced the judge and his staff all holographic images. Several years ago, after the murder of four judges, the judicial branch decided that it was prudent to safeguard themselves and the jury. Now the courtroom contained only the prosecutor and defendant s team, plus the audience. The three-dimensional figures before him flickered. The virtual images became sharper, clearer until the judge in his black flowing robes, his court reporter and bailiff sat beside him. Shawn listened to the charges read. Shit! Ciarra was being charged with three murders. Apparently the woman she had impersonated had washed up on the shores of Muscle Beach last night. Kitty Carmichael was dead. From behind he watched Ciarra s shoulders fall on a defeated sigh. How do you plea to the charge of murder in the first degree of Stan Mayhem? the judge asked. His hologram might not be steady and firm, but his tone was. Not guilty, Ciarra responded. Her voice quivered, showing signs of anxiety. The big man beneath the seal of justice raised a bushy brow, his image flickered once more. How do you plea to the charge of murder in the first degree of Matthew Collins? the judge asked. Not guilty, Ciarra responded again. Her voice dropped to a whisper. How do you plea to the charge of murder in the first degree of Kitty Carmichael? the judge asked. Ciarra remain silent. Her palm clasped her mouth. Miss Storm the judge frowned with impatience, answer the question. Taryn leaned into Ciarra, murmuring. Her words were lost to Shawn as Ciarra mumbled something back before facing the judge. The strain on her face as she swallowed hard made Shawn s fists clench. Finally, Ciarra murmured, Not guilty. With that aside, both lawyers began to present their arguments about bail. The district attorney stood. He walked toward the judge and then spun on a heel. Ciarra Storm is a threat to the community. We ask that no bail be posted. Shawn wanted to strangle the short man, balding, with glasses perched on the tip of his stubby nose. Bad posture and his cheap suit did nothing for his image. 143 Mackenzie McKade Taryn drew herself to her full height of five-eleven. A light chuckle of disbelief left [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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