Read Online Lancelot of the Pines (Louisiana Knights Book 1) by Jennifer Blake - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jennifer Blake
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before she replied, and then he almost missed it with the rustling of sheets as she lay down.
“Goodnight, Lancelot,” she whispered.
Chapter 6
Mandy awoke in stages, gradually becoming aware of the unusual quiet broken only by birdsong and the sighing of trees. The generator was off, and so was the RV’s air conditioning. Though it wasn’t yet hot inside, neither was it as cool as it had been earlier.
The mattress under her wasn’t the softest she’d ever slept on, either. She stretched, easing the stiffness out of her muscles, before opening her eyes.
She went perfectly still.
She’d slept without moving for most of the night. When was the last time that had happened? Why had it happened? The only thing she could think was that she’d felt safe for the first time in years.
Turning her head, she looked toward the rear bedroom. The sheet was thrown back, the bed empty. It was easy to see she was alone, though she thought she could hear Lance’s voice coming from outside.
Swinging her legs off the makeshift bed, she stood and took the two steps that would let her look through the top glass section of the access door.
He was walking back and forth under the trees. One hand was in the pocket of the jeans he must have borrowed from Trey’s closet, while the other held a cell phone to his ear. He frowned as he spoke, and a commanding tone rang in his voice.
He was reporting to the sheriff on their location; he must be. She didn’t much care for the idea; it seemed far safer if no one knew it.
What else was he doing?
Had she said anything last night that might have aroused his suspicions? Well, more than they were already?
She lifted a hand to her face, rubbing it across her eyes. For a few minutes the night before, she’d almost forgotten he was a cop. That wasn’t good, not good at all. She couldn’t risk counting on him, even if he had hustled her out of danger. She’d learned long ago that the only person she could really count on was herself.
It was possible she and the deputy should come to a parting of the ways, that she might be better off without his so-called protection. There were a couple of obstacles, however. First, her money and identification had been left behind. Then the T-shirt she was wearing for a dress might make her a bit conspicuous, even if she did have on her bikini for underwear.
Outside, Lance stopped talking and stared down at his cell phone screen. He flicked it with his thumb, scrolling at high speed. Whatever he was reading wasn’t making him happy; he appeared to be swearing as he read.
Seconds later, he turned toward the RV. His long strides held hard purpose, though his attention was still on the phone in his hand.
The door of the tiny bathroom was directly behind Mandy. She whisked inside and reached to turn on the water in the vanity sink. Whatever Lance Benedict might have to say to her now, she was in no hurry to hear it.
It was the smell of bacon frying that enticed her from her hiding place some minutes later. She emerged slowly, uncertain what she might have to face.
The brief smile Lance gave her, along with a quick up and down glance, brought heat to her face. It wasn’t fair that he could disconcert her so easily, or that he could act so normal when she’d feared something different.
Maybe it was just as well she’d used her time in the bathroom to wash her face, brush her teeth, comb the tangles out of her hair and rinse out her bikini and hang it to dry. The delay seemed to have given him time to get over whatever had upset him.
“Hungry?” he asked, turning back to his pan and the bacon strips he was turning with a fork.
She opened her mouth to deny it, but realized it would be a lie. “Starving.”
“Fried eggs or scrambled?”
“Whatever is easier.” She waited a second. “Anything I can do to help?”
“You can set the table, if you don’t mind.” He nodded toward where he’d returned her sleeping place to its normal
“Goodnight, Lancelot,” she whispered.
Chapter 6
Mandy awoke in stages, gradually becoming aware of the unusual quiet broken only by birdsong and the sighing of trees. The generator was off, and so was the RV’s air conditioning. Though it wasn’t yet hot inside, neither was it as cool as it had been earlier.
The mattress under her wasn’t the softest she’d ever slept on, either. She stretched, easing the stiffness out of her muscles, before opening her eyes.
She went perfectly still.
She’d slept without moving for most of the night. When was the last time that had happened? Why had it happened? The only thing she could think was that she’d felt safe for the first time in years.
Turning her head, she looked toward the rear bedroom. The sheet was thrown back, the bed empty. It was easy to see she was alone, though she thought she could hear Lance’s voice coming from outside.
Swinging her legs off the makeshift bed, she stood and took the two steps that would let her look through the top glass section of the access door.
He was walking back and forth under the trees. One hand was in the pocket of the jeans he must have borrowed from Trey’s closet, while the other held a cell phone to his ear. He frowned as he spoke, and a commanding tone rang in his voice.
He was reporting to the sheriff on their location; he must be. She didn’t much care for the idea; it seemed far safer if no one knew it.
What else was he doing?
Had she said anything last night that might have aroused his suspicions? Well, more than they were already?
She lifted a hand to her face, rubbing it across her eyes. For a few minutes the night before, she’d almost forgotten he was a cop. That wasn’t good, not good at all. She couldn’t risk counting on him, even if he had hustled her out of danger. She’d learned long ago that the only person she could really count on was herself.
It was possible she and the deputy should come to a parting of the ways, that she might be better off without his so-called protection. There were a couple of obstacles, however. First, her money and identification had been left behind. Then the T-shirt she was wearing for a dress might make her a bit conspicuous, even if she did have on her bikini for underwear.
Outside, Lance stopped talking and stared down at his cell phone screen. He flicked it with his thumb, scrolling at high speed. Whatever he was reading wasn’t making him happy; he appeared to be swearing as he read.
Seconds later, he turned toward the RV. His long strides held hard purpose, though his attention was still on the phone in his hand.
The door of the tiny bathroom was directly behind Mandy. She whisked inside and reached to turn on the water in the vanity sink. Whatever Lance Benedict might have to say to her now, she was in no hurry to hear it.
It was the smell of bacon frying that enticed her from her hiding place some minutes later. She emerged slowly, uncertain what she might have to face.
The brief smile Lance gave her, along with a quick up and down glance, brought heat to her face. It wasn’t fair that he could disconcert her so easily, or that he could act so normal when she’d feared something different.
Maybe it was just as well she’d used her time in the bathroom to wash her face, brush her teeth, comb the tangles out of her hair and rinse out her bikini and hang it to dry. The delay seemed to have given him time to get over whatever had upset him.
“Hungry?” he asked, turning back to his pan and the bacon strips he was turning with a fork.
She opened her mouth to deny it, but realized it would be a lie. “Starving.”
“Fried eggs or scrambled?”
“Whatever is easier.” She waited a second. “Anything I can do to help?”
“You can set the table, if you don’t mind.” He nodded toward where he’d returned her sleeping place to its normal
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