"Coughlin, Patricia - Love In The First Degree" - читать интересную книгу автора (Coughlin Patricia)

"Mr. Cabrio asked me to tell you-and I quote," he added, " " Thanks,
but mind your own business. " "

Of course, Claire thought as she tightened her grip on the handle of
her leather briefcase and started for the prison entranoe, thaYs
exactly what she ought to do. Mind her own business. Tell herself
she'd tried to help and Luke had refused her offer. Then she should
get in her car and drive back to her comfortable life, respectable
friends and nioe safe job. She ought to turn and run.

Unfortunately, she couldn't. Her parents had raised her to be
cautious, true, but she had also been taught to pay her debts in full.
Right now the situation with Luke had her caught between those two good
bits of advice. She owed Luke Cabrio big-time, and she wasn't going
home until she'd settled the score.

While she wasn't officially representing Luke, the public defender,
Gerald Rancourt, had agreed to arrange with the prison officials for
her to meet with him. Claire showed her identification to the
uniformed guard at the gate, who checked the approved visitors' list
for her name and then diretted her inside and through a series of
checkpoints.

Another guard led her to a small room set aside for prisoners to confer
privately with their attorneys.

It had been years since Claire's stomach had done somersaults at the
loud metallic clang of a prison gate swinging shut behind her. Back
then, fresh out of law school, she'd been uneasy at the thought of
visiting jailed clients, at the prospect of being locked in a cell
block with hundreds of prison en At the moment, however, it was the
thought of being locked in a tiny room with one specific prisoner that
was making her palms sweat. Worse, Claire knew she'd be sweating even
if her meeting with Luke was to take place in Times Square or a field
of daisies. It wasn't the surroundings that had her on edge, it was
the man.

The meeting room was predictably small and Spartan, with only a small
table and two folding chairs positioned beneath a light fixture mounted
flush with the ceiling. Fluorescent , she noted glumly, wondering if
there was a more unflattering backdrop than the combination of
fluoresoent light and institution green walls. Not that it mattered,
she took pains to remind herself, even as she smoothed the white silk
shell she was wearing under her collarless gray suit and wished she'd
thought to choose something with a little more color.

Though it was July, her schedule didn't allow for much time in the sun
and her fair skin looked more pale than ever in this light.

She could have at least worn her new linen suit, she thought belatedly.