âWhy do you wear those glasses?â Griffin asked.
âUmâ¦so I can see?â
âYou used to wear contacts. Those pictures in the living roomâno glasses.â
âVery observant of you.â Raleigh shrugged. âGlasses are less trouble, and they make me look smarter. That helps in the courtroom.â
âTheyâre also easy to hide behind. You go to a lot of trouble to make sure men donât notice you.â
âIs that any of your business?â she asked sharply.
âMaybe not. But reporters are naturally curious. Other men might not look past the frumpy lawyer facade, but I have. Youâre a beautiful woman, Raleigh. Why donât you let the world see that?â
As heâd spoken, her eyes had grown wide. But she didnât deny anything. The anger he saw reflected in her expression gradually receded, replaced by a look of perplexity.
Griffin touched her chin with one forefinger, leaned forward, and did what heâd been thinking about since walking through the front door.
Dear Reader,
In the 1970s, the whole country became fascinated with the investigative reporting of Woodward and Bernstein, whose Watergate stories brought down a president. Journalism became a popular major for college students, including me. Alas, I was never hard-hitting enough to be a good investigative reporter. The best I could come up with was a story about two competing pizza restaurants titled (cleverly, I thought) Pizza Wars.
But the fun thing about being a novelist is that I get to be any kind of person through my characters. Griffin Benedict is the tough but compassionate journalist I wanted to be, jetting off to war zones and natural disasters, shining the light of truth into shady dealings. And who better for him to investigate than upstanding, uptight Project Justice attorney Raleigh Shinn, who has never so much as been late with a library book?
I had a great deal of fun pitting these two smart yet very different people against each other, then forcing them to team up to face the real threat. I hope you enjoy it.
Sincerely,
Kara Lennox
Nothing But the Truth
Kara Lennox
Kara Lennox has earned her living at various times as an art director, typesetter, textbook editor and reporter. Sheâs worked in a boutique, a health club and an ad agency. Sheâs been an antiques dealer, an artist and even a blackjack dealer. But no work has ever made her happier than writing romance novels. To date, she has written more than sixty books. Kara is a recent transplant to Southern California. When not writing, she indulges in an ever-changing array of hobbies. Her latest passions are bird-watching, long-distance bicycling, vintage jewelry and, by necessity, do-it-yourself home renovation. She loves to hear from readers; you can find her at www.karalennox.com.
Believe it or not, this oneâs for my ex-husband, Pete, who really did jet off to war zones and natural disasters with his trusty Nikon. Iâm still in awe of the danger you put yourself in, and the beautiful pictures you took.
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
RALEIGH SHINN HESITATED on the sidewalk outside the coffee shop, her palms damp, her chest tight. She hadnât been this nervous since sheâd argued a case before the Texas Supreme Court.
She so much preferred to be the one asking the questions. But she had committed to the interview; she couldnât weasel out.
Raleigh did not like the media. Even when she fought for a popular cause, the press often described her as a bulldog, a terrier, or a sexless, humorless legal machine.
Those descriptions were, perhaps, not entirely undeserved. But now, she needed some good press, because her current cause was decidedly unpopular. It would take a tidal wave of evidence to get the D.A. to reopen the case of Anthony Simonetti, currently sitting on death row for supposedly gunning down his girlfriend in a cold-blooded act of premeditation. Raleigh wanted public sentiment squarely on her side when she made her argument.
Griffin Benedict, roving investigative reporter for the Houston Telegram, could turn public opinion. He was immensely popularâalmost a celebrity in his own right. People believed what he wrote. He could help her cause.
Or he could crucify her. She had to take her chances.
After a deep, fortifying breath, she entered Legal Grounds, a coffee shop near the Harris County Courthouse.
She spotted him immediately. Even if she hadnât seen his picture, she would have known he was the one. He was the only man sitting alone, and he was staring right at her.
Lord have mercy, he was gorgeous.
That thought surprised her. She didnât normally think of men in terms of their looks. She sometimes sized up a clientâs appearance and how it would play with a judge or jury, but she couldnât remember the last time she had found a man attractive.
Griffin Benedictâs sexual magnetism hit her like a fog bank, momentarily disorienting her. Brown hair, longish and with a rakish wave, framed a square-jawed, tanned face. The nose had a slight bump, as if it had been broken. Mouth, sensual. That was the adjective that leaped to mind, although she wasnât sure what made it so.