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A Suspect

Sicily

"What do you think you're doing?" she whispered angrily.

"I'm reading the paper. Do you want to read it? If so, just ask." He chuckled and pulled it down. "How are you more beautiful when you're angry? It should be a crime."

"Not funny. You're not a lawyer. You own the town gym. Everyone knows that. The cop is going to know that, so what the hell are you doing?" She hated the pissy sound of her voice, but the combination of needing him and not wanting to need him raged inside of her, threatening to spill over and ruin her composure.

He set the paper down before moving forward, his actions putting him closer than she wanted. "I'm a lot of things, Sicily. You don't know me and you're judging my abilities. Don't. I don't judge yours."

She turned as the girl called her name. "Miss Moretti. You and your lawyer can come this way."

"Thank you," Sicily called out a little too brightly. She glanced back at Drake as he stood and moved up beside her. "This conversation isn't over."

"Good.
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