The Black Widow. BEVERLY BARTON

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      “You want this child, don’t you? I heard you say that your child was the most important thing in your life.”

      “We wanted a child. Dan and I. I just wish he could have…” She swallowed hard.

      Rick gritted his teeth. She seemed so sincere, so genuinely sad.

      “Dan would have been such a good father. He was a good man. Kind and caring. He would have loved this child so much.”

      When she unconsciously laid her hand over her belly in such a gentle, protective movement, Rick sensed how much this child meant to her. She wasn’t faking the depth of her feelings. And if she loved his child, didn’t it stand to reason that she had loved Dan Price?

      “Look, is there anything I can do for you?” Rick took a tentative step toward her, desperately wishing he could erase the pain he saw in her eyes.

      “I’m sorry, Mr. Carson…Rick.” Jordan tried to smile. “I’m all right. Really I am.” She changed the subject quickly. “You’re here to give me a report, aren’t you?”

      He watched while she poured herself a cup of decaf from the carafe on her desk. She took a sip of the black coffee.

      “I really don’t have anything to report,” he said. “Nothing you don’t already know.”

      She took several more sips of coffee, then set the cup and saucer on her desk and glanced at Rick. “I sense there’s something you wanted to say to me.”

      “It can wait.”

      “Please, won’t you sit down? Have some coffee and tell me whatever it is.”

      His experience with pregnant women was very limited. He’d never been married or fathered a child. His sister was older than he, so he hadn’t seen his own mother pregnant. And after devoting most of her life to her career, his sister had married only a couple of years ago and she and her husband had adopted a ten-year-old last year.

      Rick didn’t sit. Instead, he walked over to Jordan and looked her right in the eyes. “I received a report from Powell’s last night.”

      “A report on what?” she asked, her expression one of total innocence.

      “A report on you.”

      Her expression didn’t alter except for a slight flickering of her eyelashes that hinted surprise. “You requested a report on me?”

      “It’s standard procedure. I’ll get one on Ryan, too, probably later today.”

      “Did you find anything of interest in the report, something that adds to your suspicions?”

      “You’ve had several tragedies in your life.”

      “I’d say that’s an understatement.”

      He suspected that she was forcing herself not to break eye contact, to continue looking directly at him. “It’s no secret that Dan is the third man that I’ve loved and lost. My fiancé died in a one-car accident shortly before we were to be married. I was twenty-one. My first husband was killed in a hunting accident when we’d been married only two years. And now, Dan…Neither Robby Joe nor Boyd was murdered, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

      “Murder can be made to look like an accident,” Rick said and when her face went chalk white and her eyes widened in shock, he wished he’d kept that assessment to himself.

      Jordan slumped into the chair behind her desk, her movements indicating that she could barely manage to stand on her own two feet. Rick took several tentative steps toward her, concerned about her welfare.

      She held up a restraining hand. “No, please. I’m all right. Just shocked that you would even consider such a thing was possible.”

      “Look, I was hired for a specific reason and I have to consider every aspect of the situation, which means looking into the past. The senator’s past, your past, and the past of anyone who had an opportunity to kill Dan Price.”

      “I know you’re just doing your job, but the very idea that Robby Joe’s death or Boyd’s was anything other than an accident is ludicrous.”

      “Look, I’m sorry if I upset you, especially since you’re pregnant,” Rick said. “I think maybe we should discuss Powell’s sending in another agent to replace me, all things considered. I’m probably not the best man for this job.”

      “No! I don’t want another agent,” Jordan said vehemently. “I—I don’t want to start all over again with someone else. You’re here. You’re qualified. If you weren’t, Nicole wouldn’t have sent you. Am I right?”

      “Yes, ma’am, you’re right. But I thought that since—”

      “I’m not offended that you think I might have killed Dan. In your place, I might question my innocence, too, especially after learning that Dan was not the first man in my life who died unexpectedly. But I didn’t kill Dan anymore than I killed Robby Joe or Boyd. I’m not afraid of the truth and the truth is that Robby Joe’s death and Boyd’s death were terrible accidents. And if Dan really was murdered, I’m not his killer.”

      Damned if he didn’t believe her. At least for the moment. She looked so sincere, sounded so sincere, and sent out strong I’m-sweet-and-innocent vibes. Everything in him wanted to believe her without question. He wanted her to be just what she seemed, a grieving, pregnant widow who really had cared deeply for her husband and wouldn’t have harmed a hair on his head.

      Maybe he should stick around, stay on the job and prove to himself that Jordan was innocent of any wrongdoing. Wasn’t that what he wanted?

      “Will you please reconsider leaving, Mr. Carson? Please stay and continue to investigate Dan’s death.” She gave him a pleading look that had him all but dropping to his knees and begging her to forgive him for ever doubting her. Damn, she was good. Either that or he was far too susceptible to her charm.

      “Yeah, sure, I’ll consider staying, if that’s what you really want.”

      “It’s what I want, someone impartial who will find out the truth about Dan’s death.” She offered him a fragile, seductive smile.

      Hell, he was reading far more into her delicate smile than she intended. He wanted it to mean something personal. It didn’t and he damn well knew it didn’t.

       You can’t stay here. You’re too vulnerable to Jordan’s charm to remain impartial. You know she could be guilty of three murders, but you want her to be innocent because you want to screw her.

      There, he’d said it. He had admitted that he was thinking with his dick and not his brain. And he suspected he wasn’t the first man who’d let his libido take over and his good judgment go out the window where Jordan Price was concerned.

      Before he had the chance to refute his agreement to stay on as the Powell agent investigating her husband’s murder, they both heard a loud ruckus, the sounds of shouting, screaming and running feet coming from somewhere nearby.

       What the hell?

      Jordan shot up СКАЧАТЬ