Excerpts

Chapter One "Not guilty." Mallory Thane sank back in her chair, dizzy with relief as the foreman of the jury pronounced the verdict. She became vaguely conscious of the buzz of the spectators in the courtroom behind her, the encouraging squeeze of her attorney, James Delage's hand on her own, the judge thanking the jury, but it was all on a subliminal level. She was free! James leaned forward, his intelligent face furrowed with concern as he whispered, "Okay?" She nodded and tried to breathe slowly and evenly. She knew very well she was not at all okay. She was so exhausted and strained she could barely sit there without trembling. "Terrific. Thanks, James, for a while I thought I'd had it." "I told you there was nothing to worry about. That damn district attorney just wanted a little free publicity to launch her new election campaign. Any other official would never have brought you to trial with such scanty evidence." "She was a barracuda." Mallory shuddered, averting her gaze from the table across the courtroom where the sleek, commanding figure of the district attorney still sat. "I felt naked when she had me on the stand. She . . . flayed me." "It's over now." James gathered up his legal pads and briefs and put them in his leather briefcase. "Come on, let's get out of here. We still have the gauntlet of the paparazzi to run--and fast. I intend to get you into a taxi with the speed of light." "What more can they do to me?" Mallory asked bitterly. "They've already painted me as the premiere vamp of the eighties. Haven't you read the headlines? 'Glamorous actress seduces poor love- sick lad, leads him to the altar, accepts expensive presents, and then shoots him when he goes broke.'?" "No newspaper in existence has room for a headline that long." James grinned. "And not many people have memories that long either. Next week you'll be old news." "I hope so." James looked at Mallory's pale, drawn face. "Look, why don't you go to Europe for a while? Give the press a chance to forget." "On what?" She grimaced. "I still owe you money for my defense, and the offers haven't exactly been pouring in since I was arraigned for Ben's murder. I was just beginning to get a few good film roles when Ben Wyatt wandered into my life." "I can wait for my fee." "You'll have to." She stood and picked up her purse from the table. "But not for long. You've worked yourself into the ground to clear me, and I won't see you cheated." She shook her head wearily. "Somebody has to come out of this mess with something besides bruises or there's no sense to anything." "Like the not-so-honorable district attorney I've gotten a lot of free publicity." "That doesn't pay the bills when you've got a wife and a baby on the way. I'll get some kind of job even if I have to wait tables again until . . ." She trailed off. Until what, she wondered in discouragement. She had never felt so damned helpless in her life. Despite this acquittal, the press would still malign her, and she would be forever associated with scandal. Perhaps not. If Ben's murderer were caught . . . She sighed. A black widow had publicity value, but not the kind a producer believed would sell tickets. "I'll pay you back, I promise. You've been my good angel, James." Her smile lit her face as she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "It's not every day that a woman has her life handed back to her on a silver platter." & Excerpted from Notorious by Iris Johansen All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.