Excerpt from Burden of Proof By Esther Mitchell

BURDEN
OF PROOF

EXCERPT:

Chelsea remained silent, her eyes glued straight ahead and her mind obviously
far away from her surroundings, until the car came to a halt. Jolted from her
thoughts, she opened the door to get out, and stopped cold. Turning back into
her seat, she gave Justin an accusing look.

"This isn't the hospital."

"No," he agreed simply, "it isn't. We're getting something to eat, first."

She looked horrified, as if he'd just suggested that they run naked through the
courthouse. Even as the mental image of Chelsea, naked, hit him, Justin cursed
quietly.

"Look, it's only dinner. I'm not asking you to walk barefoot through
leech-infested waters, okay?" He snapped, frustrated beyond reason by her
distrust. "I'm going in, to get something to eat. You can either come along, or sit
in the car and wait. The choice is yours."

With that, he resolutely opened his door and climbed out. It was a risk, he
knew, to offer her this choice. As contrary as she was behaving, Chelsea might
choose to stay in the car out of sheer spite. If she did that, the game would be
up; he'd get back in the car, drive her to the hospital, and then he'd leave her
alone, permanently. But if she got out of the car now, he'd know she wasn't
indifferent, however unwilling she might be, toward him.

Just when Justin was about to concede the game, Chelsea's door opened, and
she stepped out of the car, her lightning-blue eyes wary as she smoothed the
material of her dark gray skirt.

"Just dinner, right? We eat, and then you take me back to my car."

Justin bit back a tight smile at the severe expression on her face, as if she was
taking a monumental risk and wanted to know the rules first. This was the
woman who hadn't batted an eye at the idea of breaking into a man's home? If
there was one thing about Chelsea that continually caught him by surprise, it was
the duality of her nature. She had no trouble bending the law whenever she felt
the situation warranted it, but she had a desperate need to establish unbending
rules when it came to every personal interaction in her life. Her whole manner,
and the heat behind her lightning eyes, radiated disregard for rules; she had the
wild freedom of a revolutionary. But her staid refusal to accept a client sight
unseen, or a friend without first firmly establishing her obligations, was a
contradiction of that inner freedom. His smile died completely as he realized
what that cool shield she wore was a sign of. Pain. Deep, heartbreaking,
soul-torturing pain.

Justin's gut clenched as if he'd just been sucker-punched. He'd known for a
while that Chelsea had been the victim of some painful trauma. But this new
insight into her personality was a much more devastating one. Only a few things
in this world could turn a free spirit into a paranoid automaniac. His mind roiled
with the most prominent of those abuses, and he shoved it from his mind before
he had a chance to blurt out the question pressing on his tongue. He had to
approach this delicately. He could do that. He had handled plenty of delicate
examinations in the courtroom, sidestepping around an issue until the witness
opened up on their own. Now, having made that very wise decision, he opened
his mouth, and those very foolish words tumbled out, anyway.

"What happened to you?"

Her eyes grew saucer-wide, and her breath caught in surprised fear as he came
around the front of the car to stand before her.

"I don't know what..." Her voice trailed off, and she licked her lips, as if tasting
her own lie. His libido spiked at that motion, and the temptation of her lips, but
he shoved it aside. Her answer was more important.

"Yes," he said gently but firmly. "You do know what I mean. What happened
to make you so paranoid about men?"