Read Online Retribution by Elizabeth Forrest - Free Book Online
Authors: Elizabeth Forrest
Tags: Fiction
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alone, and had half his food finished when he looked up, and saw Charlie Saunders watching him over the shoulders of the latest conversant to hold her captive. Her look quickly flicked away as if she'd been caught. John suppressed the desire to see if he'd spilled something on the rental tuxedo and put his fork down. He gathered up the tray holding his plate and drink, surveying his plate and realizing it was actually damn near empty. He stood and made his way back toward Charlie, leaning into the conversation without preamble.
"Hon, I'm going back for seconds… sure you don't want me to pick up a plate for you?"
She blinked as her face turned rosy, then nodded. "I'm famished. That would be wonderful," she said smoothly, after a twitch of the corner of her mouth. "You know I adore the Chinese chicken salad, and anything with shrimp in it." Jagger flashed him an enormously grateful look as if the dog knew dinner snacks were drawing close.
"Will do." John grinned. "And I think I saw a couple of pieces of chocolate fudge cake that had our names written all over it." He nodded toward the latest group holding her hostage. "You don't mind if I steal her away for some dinner, do you?" The rosy glow to her face took the edges off her plainness, and he found himself enjoying having her somewhat at a disadvantage.
Her audience immediately began to murmur agreement as he swung past, grabbed another plate, and began to assemble her request. By the time he'd gotten her dinner, his seconds and dessert, they were saying their good-byes and Charlie was shaking their hands.
She followed him over to the table which had thankfully remained empty, the slight limp she walked with engagingly, unconsciously, sexy, and sat down with a sigh. She examined the plate as he slid it over in front of her, unrolled the linen napkin from the silverware, and laid it over her lap. "I am not sure how grateful I am for the rescue— I've been avoiding the cake all evening." She dipped a fingertip into the icing, tasted it, and rolled her eyes. "Torture."
Night had rolled in, a black velvet backdrop to the tent, and the candle lanterns on the tables began to reflect their golden glow. He had a plain, hard-boiled egg to the side of his plate, neatly sliced it in two and pressed it into her fingers. "Jagger deserves a little something, too."
The dog responded quickly, moist nose sniffing the air for all its good smells. Charlie smiled wearily. "Actually he would prefer a piece of the cake."
"But chocolate isn't good for him, and he'd just as soon have the egg."
With a laugh, she bent over and Jagger scarfed up the treat with little judgment as to whether or not chocolate cake would have tasted better.
"Dogs," Rubidoux remarked, "are potato chip eaters. Each chip looks irresistible, and they're always ready to eat another."
She more than smiled at that; she burst out with a laugh, a sound so genuine it made him feel like responding the way Jagger did… with a feel good all over wiggle. He suppressed it by stuffing a shrimp egg roll in his mouth. She did not say anything for a good five minutes other than "mmmming" at the salad and rolling her eyes in happiness.
"If you want to keep avoiding the cake," he offered, "I'll eat both slices."
"And die a slow death from a dull butter knife," Charlie warned.
John Rubidoux grinned.
A handsome, silver-haired couple paused by the table, as if waiting for Charlie to notice them, and of course she did, swallowing quickly and wiping the edges of her mouth with the corner of her napkin.
"Judge and Mrs. Laverman, how nice to see you!"
They smiled: tall, elegant, well-groomed people. He wore a thick but well-trimmed mustache, and he had a lot of laugh creases at the corners of his clear blue eyes. John had seen a fair number of judges in his police days, but he had never been before this one and found himself wondering what it would be like. Not too many people made him want to remember those past
"Hon, I'm going back for seconds… sure you don't want me to pick up a plate for you?"
She blinked as her face turned rosy, then nodded. "I'm famished. That would be wonderful," she said smoothly, after a twitch of the corner of her mouth. "You know I adore the Chinese chicken salad, and anything with shrimp in it." Jagger flashed him an enormously grateful look as if the dog knew dinner snacks were drawing close.
"Will do." John grinned. "And I think I saw a couple of pieces of chocolate fudge cake that had our names written all over it." He nodded toward the latest group holding her hostage. "You don't mind if I steal her away for some dinner, do you?" The rosy glow to her face took the edges off her plainness, and he found himself enjoying having her somewhat at a disadvantage.
Her audience immediately began to murmur agreement as he swung past, grabbed another plate, and began to assemble her request. By the time he'd gotten her dinner, his seconds and dessert, they were saying their good-byes and Charlie was shaking their hands.
She followed him over to the table which had thankfully remained empty, the slight limp she walked with engagingly, unconsciously, sexy, and sat down with a sigh. She examined the plate as he slid it over in front of her, unrolled the linen napkin from the silverware, and laid it over her lap. "I am not sure how grateful I am for the rescue— I've been avoiding the cake all evening." She dipped a fingertip into the icing, tasted it, and rolled her eyes. "Torture."
Night had rolled in, a black velvet backdrop to the tent, and the candle lanterns on the tables began to reflect their golden glow. He had a plain, hard-boiled egg to the side of his plate, neatly sliced it in two and pressed it into her fingers. "Jagger deserves a little something, too."
The dog responded quickly, moist nose sniffing the air for all its good smells. Charlie smiled wearily. "Actually he would prefer a piece of the cake."
"But chocolate isn't good for him, and he'd just as soon have the egg."
With a laugh, she bent over and Jagger scarfed up the treat with little judgment as to whether or not chocolate cake would have tasted better.
"Dogs," Rubidoux remarked, "are potato chip eaters. Each chip looks irresistible, and they're always ready to eat another."
She more than smiled at that; she burst out with a laugh, a sound so genuine it made him feel like responding the way Jagger did… with a feel good all over wiggle. He suppressed it by stuffing a shrimp egg roll in his mouth. She did not say anything for a good five minutes other than "mmmming" at the salad and rolling her eyes in happiness.
"If you want to keep avoiding the cake," he offered, "I'll eat both slices."
"And die a slow death from a dull butter knife," Charlie warned.
John Rubidoux grinned.
A handsome, silver-haired couple paused by the table, as if waiting for Charlie to notice them, and of course she did, swallowing quickly and wiping the edges of her mouth with the corner of her napkin.
"Judge and Mrs. Laverman, how nice to see you!"
They smiled: tall, elegant, well-groomed people. He wore a thick but well-trimmed mustache, and he had a lot of laugh creases at the corners of his clear blue eyes. John had seen a fair number of judges in his police days, but he had never been before this one and found himself wondering what it would be like. Not too many people made him want to remember those past
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