Novels: The Law is a Lady Read Online Free Page A

countless homages to her looks. This was hardly a homage. But something in his tone, in his eyes, made a tremor skip up her spine. She made no protest when he reached a hand through the bars to touch her hair.
    He let it fall through his fingers while his eyes stayed on hers.
    Tory felt a heat to which she had thought herself immune. It flashed through her as though she had stepped into the sun from out of a cool, dim room. It was the kind of heat that buckled your knees and made you gasp out loud in astonished wonder. She stood straight and absorbed it.
    A dangerous man, she concluded, surprised. A very dangerous man. She saw a flicker of desire in his eyes, then a flash of amusement. As she watched, his mouth curved up at the corners.
    "Baby," he said, then grinned, "I could make you a star."
    The purposely trite words dissolved the tension and made her laugh. "Oh, Mr. Kincaid," she said in a breathy whisper, "can I really have a screen test?" A startled Phil could only watch as she flung herself against the bars of the cell dramatically. "I'll wait for you, Johnny," she said huskily as tears shimmered in her eyes and her soft lips trembled. "No matter how long it takes." Reaching through the bars, she clutched at him. "I'll write you every day," she promised brokenly. "And dream of you every night. Oh, Johnny..."
    her lashes fluttered down— "kiss me goodbye!"
    Fascinated, Phil moved to oblige her, but just before his lips brushed hers, she stepped back, laughing.
    "How'd I do, Hollywood? Do I get the part?"
    Phil studied her in amused annoyance. It was a pity, he thought, that he hadn't at least gotten a taste of that beautiful mouth. "A little overdone," he stated with more asperity than truth. "But not bad for an amateur."
    Tory chuckled and leaned companionably against the bars. "You're just mad."
    "Mad?" he tossed back in exasperation. "Have you ever spent any time in one of these cages?"
    "As a matter of fact I have." She gave him an easy grin. "Under less auspicious circumstances. Relax, Kincaid, your friend will come bail you out."
    "The mayor," Phil said on sudden inspiration. "I want to see the mayor. I have a business proposition," he added.
    "Oh." Tory mulled this over. "Well, I doubt I can oblige you on a Saturday. The mayor mostly fishes on Saturday. Want to tell me about it?"
    "No."
    "Okay. By the way, your last film should've taken the Oscar. It was the most beautiful movie I've ever seen."
    Her sudden change of attitude disconcerted him. Cautiously, Phil studied her face but saw nothing but simple sincerity. "Thanks."
    "You don't look like the type who could make a film with intelligence, integrity and emotion."
    With a half laugh he dragged a hand through his hair. "Am I supposed to thank you for that too?"
    "Not necessarily. It's just that you really do look like the type who squires all those busty celebrities around.
    When do you find time to work?'
    He shook his head. "I...manage," he said grimly.
    "Takes a lot of stamina," Tory agreed.
    He grinned. "Which? The work or the busty celebrities?"
    "I guess you know the answer to that. By the way," she continued before he could formulate a reasonable response, "don't tell Merle T. you make movies." Tory gave him the swift, dashing grin. "He'll start walking like John Wayne and drive us both crazy."
    When he smiled back at her, both of them studied each other in wary silence. There was an attraction on both sides that pleased neither of them.
    "Sheriff," Phil said in a friendly tone, "a phone call. Remember the line about the quality of mercy?"
    Her lips curved, but before she could agree, the door to the office burst in.
    "Sheriff!"
    "Right here, Mr. Hollister," she said mildly. Tory glanced from the burly, irate man to the skinny, terrified teenager he pulled in with him. "What's the problem?" Without hurry she crossed back to her desk, stepping over the dog automatically.
    "Those punks," he began, puffing with the exertion of running. "I warned you about