Men to Trust: Boss Man / The Last Good Man in Texas / Lonetree Ranchers: Brant. Diana Palmer

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СКАЧАТЬ how much money his victim is carrying, as a rule. Sometimes the victim resists, and dies, and the thief ends up with pocket change and a life sentence. Greed is its own punishment.”

      “I hope Janet Collins gets hers,” Violet said quietly, hugging her mother. She glanced at Blake. “I suppose it will be in all the papers?”

      “Undoubtedly,” he agreed. He moved into the living room and dropped down into a comfortable armchair. “Personal tragedies have become popular entertainment. We’ve reached an all-time low in journalistic ethics.”

      “Where do you think Janet Collins went?” Mrs. Hardy asked abruptly.

      Blake crossed his long legs and leaned back in the chair. “At a guess, somewhere close by. She won’t want to let go of the ranch. Libby and Curt have had some threats already, probably at her instigation.”

      “I’m sorry they’re having such trouble,” Violet said. “Libby’s the best friend I have.”

      “I won’t give up until Janet is found,” Blake assured her. “I’ve got one of the best private investigators in Texas on the job.”

      Mrs. Hardy was dabbing at her eyes. Anger had given way to grief. “I wondered about the coroner’s report, saying that he had a heart attack,” she murmured aloud. “He’d had all sorts of tests, and there was no trace of heart trouble.”

      “From what the medical examiner told me, the poison paralyzes the heart. Essentially, it stops it dead. Since no one suspected foul play, they didn’t bother with an autopsy. But I credit those investigators in San Antonio with doing a great job of evidence gathering. When we finally catch Janet, we’ll have enough to hang her.”

      Violet hugged her mother. “It will be all right,” she said, although she didn’t really feel it.

      “The newspapers will have a field day, won’t they?” Mrs. Hardy asked suddenly, her face contorted.

      “We’ll get through it,” Violet assured her. “We’re tough, aren’t we?”

      Mrs. Hardy hesitated, then she smiled. “Yes, dear. We’re tough.”

      “We’ll find a way around the publicity,” Blake told them. “First things first. We have to find Janet.”

      “Thank you for coming with Violet to give me the news, Blake,” Mrs. Hardy told him gently. “It made it easier.”

      “I thought it might,” he said gently. “I’m sorry it turned out this way,” he added.

      “So are we,” Violet replied. “But we don’t get to choose our obstacles, do we?”

      “How true,” Mrs. Hardy murmured. She looked toward Blake. “Would you like to come to dinner?”

      Violet flushed. She knew her mother was trying to play matchmaker, but she wished she hadn’t. She was uneasy around Blake. She didn’t know what he expected of her. She didn’t know how she should behave.

      Blake saw her indecision and averted his gaze to Mrs. Hardy. “Thanks,” he said, “but I’ve got a lot of work to get through tonight for a client.” The client was Libby Collins, but he wasn’t going to discuss that with the women.

      “Another time,” Mrs. Hardy suggested.

      “Another time,” he agreed pleasantly. “I’d better get on the road. If you need me, call,” he told Violet firmly.

      “Of course, we will,” she said without looking directly at him, and with a forced smile.

      “My interim secretary is getting married,” he remarked. “You might consider coming back to work. Libby and Mabel miss you.”

      Violet was surprised, because he hadn’t been in touch with her since their dinner. She didn’t even know that he’d hired an interim secretary. He sounded as if he wanted Violet to come back. But he didn’t look desperate.

      On the other hand, she missed seeing him every day. It was a wrench to work for Duke Wright. It guaranteed that she wouldn’t see Blake on a regular basis at all. Today had been a rare event.

      “Think about it, at least,” Blake added quietly.

      “Yes,” she replied. “I certainly will.”

      He studied her for a few seconds too long, his eyes narrow and intent. She might mistake his invitation for something romantic, but that wasn’t the case at all. He felt guilty for what he’d let happen at his house. Violet could be pregnant. He didn’t dare keep his distance until he knew for sure. The woman hadn’t a clue about relationships, and she’d be in a hell of a fix if she really had become pregnant.

      He had to keep her close so that he’d know, whatever her condition turned out to be. If there was going to be a child…

      He stopped the thought dead. He wouldn’t think about that consequence. He had to look on the bright side. He wasn’t ready for marriage and a family. He might never be. Certainly, Violet was hardly the sort of woman he envisioned marrying. She was sweet and kind, but she wasn’t assertive. There were divisions between them that she didn’t understand. He couldn’t hurt her by pointing them out.

      He had to bide his time until he knew for sure if there was going to be a child. That wasn’t her fault, either. He’d seduced her, out of loneliness and aching hunger. He still felt the need for her. It was why he’d avoided her for the past couple of days. He’d hoped to get it under control.

      But it wasn’t. He looked at her and he wanted her. His body was already as taut as drawn rope, just from looking at her. He knew instinctively that if he touched her, he wasn’t going to be able to pull away. The pleasure she’d given him was exquisite. He wanted it again. And he didn’t dare have it.

      “Violet, why don’t you walk Blake out?” Mrs. Hardy suggested when there was a brief silence.

      “I can find my way out,” Blake said without making a big thing of Violet’s hesitation. He even smiled. “Think about the job,” he suggested. “We make a good team…you and me and Libby and Mabel,” he added just when she thought he was talking about the two of them.

      She nodded. “I will think about it,” she promised.

      “I’ll be in touch,” he replied. He didn’t say goodbye. He simply left.

      “See, dear, he misses you!” Mrs. Hardy exclaimed when they heard his car start up outside. “He wants you back! You’ll do it, won’t you?”

      “I have to change clothes and get supper started,” she interrupted to halt her mother’s speculation. “What would you like? How about pancakes?”

      “Pancakes? For supper?” the older woman exclaimed.

      “Why not? We love pancakes!”

      Mrs. Hardy smiled. “Then pancakes it is. And coffee.”

      Coffee reminded Violet of Blake and made her sad. She’d lost her job over coffee. But she didn’t let it show. “Decaf for you,” she teased, and went to change her clothes.

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