The Pegasus Marshal's Mate (U.S. Marshal Shifters 2)

“Go look after your girl,” Colby said gently. “I’ve got this. We’ve got this. And as long as you’re in that room with her, nothing bad is going to happen.”

Martin just had to hope that he was right.

*

He had to give Judge McMillan one thing: the man ran his courtroom like clockwork. All that predictability would make it easy to see if something wasn’t happening when and how it was supposed to.

It would make it easier for someone to know where to stick a spanner in the works, too. Anyone looking to hit would know exactly where and when to strike.

Martin stationed himself in one corner of the room. From there, he could keep his eyes on all the doors, shield the judge and any witnesses, and—though this wasn’t part of the official Marshal training—dive in front of the court reporter.

Tiffani didn’t look at all like someone who had been up half the night making love and asking him shy, tentative questions about what it was like to be a shifter.

She had once again bound back her hair. He knew she probably thought it made her look tame and unremarkable, but as much as he loved her with her hair down, he loved her just as much with it up. And she was just as ravishing that way. It called attention to her long, graceful throat. It all but invited him to touch the fine, silky strands at the nape of her neck where they curled in wisps over her collar.

Her skirt was a little shorter this time, her blouse a little brighter in color. When she moved her hands against the keys of her steno machine, he saw that golden bracelet of hers glitter on her wrist.

He wondered if he would go the whole rest of his life seeing her in these flashes of brilliant color, like she was the brightest thing in the room.

But this morning he had to remind himself to take his eyes off her from time to time. He scanned the room.

Was this all typical for a trial of the century? He thought it probably was. They had the necessities—judge, jury, bailiff, defendant, defense team, prosecutors, reporters. They had the usual crowd of courtroom lurkers, a blend of the curious and the morbid. So far, this was normal. The reporters and the lurkers were just more numerous and more intense this time. They were drawn to anything gruesome and grim.

More people made everything more complicated.

Which meant he had to keep his eyes open.

But for the most part, the day seem

ed to be passing smoothly. The lawyers gave their opening remarks. Testimony began.

By the end of the third hour, Martin thought he had learned more about corporate takeovers and public vs. private companies than he had ever wanted to.

A headache was throbbing behind his temples. It made him feel like someone had piled a bunch of dry kindling inside his skull and was about to strike a match.

McMillan, with unusual mercy, called an early recess for lunch. Maybe even he could only take so many statistics in a single morning.

Martin was about to go to Tiffani, but she came to him first, one hand rooting around in her purse.

“Here,” she said, coming up with a small white bottle. Aspirin. “You looked like you could use this. I mean, everyone looked like they could use it, but I didn’t get the economy-sized.”

“You’re a godsend.”

He dry-swallowed a couple of the pills, which made her make a face.

“Ugh. I was going to say we could go out to the water fountain. I don’t understand how you can do that.”

“Years of stakeouts. We needed caffeine pills to keep us awake, and we couldn’t drink too much for... obvious reasons.”

Tiffani giggled, a sound like the fizz of something sweet and intoxicating. “Say no more.”

“How are you doing? I know I had to get out too early, but I left a note—”

“I saw that. I might even still be carrying it around.” Her smile grew a little more serious. “Thank you for that, by the way. A lot of people wouldn’t think of it.”

A lot of people would. Tiffani had just known too many bad people.

If Martin ever saw Gordon Marcus in the flesh, it would take everything he had in him to keep from punching him in the face for taking this smart, funny, vibrant woman and convincing her that her looks were all she had to offer the world. That crime alone should have landed him in jail, never mind all the corporate swindling.