Order of Protection (A Courting Justice Novel, Band 1) - Softcover

Blake, Lexi

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0399587462 ISBN 13: 9780399587467

Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2018

Inhaltsangabe

A sexy and suspenseful new contemporary romance from New York Times bestselling author Lexi Blake where love and law entwine for a conviction of the heart.

To high-end defense attorney Henry Garrison, Win Hughes is a woman he met during one of the most trying times of his life. She's soft and warm, and he finds solace in their brief relationship. But Win has a secret. She's actually Taylor Winston-Hughes--born to one of the wealthiest families in the country, orphaned as a child by a tragic accident. Win moves in the wealthiest circles, but her lavish lifestyle hides her pain.

When her best friend is murdered in the midst of a glittering New York gala, Win's charged with the crime, and the only person in the world she wants to see is Henry.

Henry is shocked at the true identity of his lover, but he can't reject the case. This trial could take his new firm into the stratosphere. Still, he's not getting burned by Win again. And yet every turn brings them closer together.

As the case takes a wild turn and Win's entire life is upended, she must look to the people she's closest to in order to find a killer. And Henry must decide between making his case and saving the woman he loves...

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Lexi Blake is the New York Times bestselling author of the Lawless novels, including Ruthless, Satisfaction, and Revenge, and the Masters and Mercenaries series, including Submission Is Not Enough, Dominance Never Dies, and From Sanctum with Love. She is also coauthor with Shayla Black of the Perfect Gentlemen series, including Big Easy Temptation and Seduction in Session, and the Masters of Menage series, including Their Virgin Mistress and Their Virgin Secretary.

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***This excerpt is from an advance uncorrected copy proof*** Copyright © 2018 Lexi Blake

Chapter One

Martha’s Vineyard,
Massachusetts

Henry Garrison sat on the back-porch steps, looking out at the Atlantic. The waves were calm at this time of day, an endless beat that once had been the rhythm of his childhood. The sky was darkening, a storm coming in with savage quickness. It was one of the things he’d always loved about this place. One minute the sky was perfect, and then some terrible storm would roll in, and thirty minutes later the world was back to flawless again.

If only his life had turned out to be so quick to change. Oh, it had gotten shitty fast, but the cleanup afterward seemed like it might take a lifetime.

He let the coffee cup he held warm his hands and concentrated on the beach. When he looked out over that sand, he could practically see his grandfather walking. The old man who’d raised him had walked the shoreline every single day, combing the beach he’d known for decades as though he would find something new. He would show back up with some shell or sand dollar like it was a treasure.

Damn but he missed that old man.

Sometimes he didn’t though. He was happy his grandfather hadn’t lived long enough to see the complete wreck Henry had made of his life. Along with his daily walk on the beach, Alistair Garrison had sat right here on this porch and read the New York Times every single morning while sipping his two cups of coffee. Never more, because that would be too indulgent.

Control and discipline, my boy. Those are the keys to life.

Yeah, his grandfather hadn’t lived long enough to watch his only grandchild, the golden boy, fall from grace because of booze and arrogance. He hadn’t had to watch as the New York Bar had nearly taken away his ability to practice law. He hadn’t been alive to witness the downfall of his grandson’s made-for-the-tabloids marriage, and Henry was sure as hell happy he hadn’t been alive to know that his precious house was being put on the market to pay off a never-ending series of bills he’d run up when he’d been married. He’d bought cars and houses and other shit he didn’t need.

Most of which he didn’t even own anymore. He’d had to sell almost everything to simply keep his head above water. He’d blown it all on booze and luxury vacations and clothes with price tags that would have made his grandfather roll over in his grave.

Henry gripped the coffee cup with both hands, willing himself to stay out here on the porch and not go back inside the small but beautifully decorated bungalow. That had been his grandmother’s doing, and he reminded himself that he was happy she hadn’t witnessed his tragedy either.

He’d been packing up the closet in the smaller of the two bedrooms when he’d found a wooden box containing a lifetime’s worth of photos. They were black-and-white and color. Some had been professionally done—his father’s army photo, his grandfather’s wedding portrait, Henry’s Harvard graduation portrait. Some had been from the various cameras his grandfather had used over the years. There had also been a Bible with a pressed white rose in it. His mother’s.

Pictures of the dead. Pictures of people who’d smiled and had lives, and then they were gone and he was left behind.

But those bittersweet memories weren’t what had prompted Henry to practically run out of the house.

Nope. It had been the small bottle of Scotch he’d found. There had been almost half the bottle left. He’d looked at that liquid gold and known exactly how it would taste, how it would smell, the way it would burn down his throat. He’d stared at it and figured he could get three decent glasses out of it. He could go to the kitchen, grab one of the crystal tumblers his grandmother had been proud of, and sit and toast all that death.

He’d dropped the bottle on the carpet and walked out of the house. He’d walked to the small café two blocks from the beach and ordered a large coffee and told himself that he could keep the monster locked in that room. He would simply sell the contents of the house along with the structure.

The problem was, the monster didn’t live in the bottle. The monster was with Henry always.

His cell trilled, and he practically breathed a sigh of relief. Work was something he could deal with. Work was an addiction he could sink into. He set the cup down and answered the call. “This is Garrison.”

“Hey, buddy. How’s the packing going?” David Cormack’s voice came over the line, a steady sound that soothed Henry. There was something about the ex–NFL star turned lawyer that Henry found oddly calming. David never flipped his shit, never got angry or emotional, but managed to also never seem cold.

David’s whole world had turned upside down, all his hopes and dreams burned to cinders, and all he’d done was find a new dream.

Henry would bet that not once had David ever had a drunken screaming argument with his wife in the middle of a Manhattan restaurant with a phalanx of reporters documenting every moment for posterity.

Of course, David was a widower. He didn’t argue with his wife at all.

“I’m getting through it. I only got in yesterday. I’m going to pack up anything personal and let the movers take the rest.” He wasn’t going to talk to David about the fact that he was on the back porch hiding out from a bottle of Scotch. David had enough to deal with. “Did the kid get in all right?”

The kid was named Noah Lawless, and he was the only fucking reason Henry Garrison was still going to be able to practice law in Manhattan. After his disastrous divorce, he didn’t have the influence or the cash flow to keep up his private practice. Manhattan’s best criminal lawyer had become a has-been, and only his connection to the incredibly powerful Lawless family was saving him this time.

Once upon a time, he’d defended Riley Lawless’s future wife from embezzlement and fraud charges. Not that she’d needed much defending, since she’d actually been innocent, but getting Ellie out of jail had apparently endeared him to the clan, and when he’d needed help, they’d been amenable. They were funding him for the time being. They were also his only real client.

Of course, that meant doing Drew Lawless, the family patriarch and head of their multibillion dollar company, a massive favor and taking on his baby brother as a freaking junior partner. But a desperate man did what he had to do. Noah wasn’t coming in as an associate, the way he should. He had his damn name on the door.

“He’s not as bad as you think.” David knew how reluctant Henry was to take on an entitled kid. He’d dealt with enough rich pricks to last a lifetime.

Despite the fact that he was sitting on one of the world’s most affluent islands, he hadn’t grown up wealthy. The house had been built by his boat captain great-grandfather back in the 1920s and passed down the line. His grandfather had been a fisherman, and his father had gone into the military. After his father had died, Henry had grown up here as a townie. It had only been later on that he’d turned into an overprivileged asshole of a human being.

“I think he’s probably pretty bad, so you’re not giving me a lot of confidence.” Henry wished he hadn’t stopped smoking. No more smoking. No more drinking. No more random, meaningless sex. Being virtuous was starting to get to him. He needed a good murder case, and soon,...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2018
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0399587462
• ISBN 13: 9780399587467
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 337
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Buchpark GmbH; gpsr@buchpark.de; ; Krügerweg 1; Trebbin; Brandenburg; 14959; Deutschland