Читать книгу His Touch - Mary Baxter Lynn - Страница 8

Jessica sensed Brant Harding was as uncomfortable with the situation as she was. It didn’t take any brain-power to figure that out. So why had he come? And why didn’t she just send him on his way? Good questions, but with no good answers.

“Shall we get down to business?”

Although his tone was not exactly brusque, it touched on it. “I have no problem with that,” she said, feeling her temper rise, which was totally out of character for her. It took a lot to rile her, but there was something about this man that set her on edge. As the seconds ticked on, that edge seemed to sharpen.

Why hadn’t she asked Veronica more about him when she’d had the chance? She kicked herself mentally for that oversight. At the time, however, she had assumed he was an older man, the Saxon type, perhaps, with a bald spot on the top of his head. Well, he certainly wasn’t old—early to mid-forties, she gauged. Nor did he have a bald spot.

Shifting her thoughts abruptly, Jessica turned and made her way into her office proper.

Brant didn’t sit down, but then, she didn’t invite him to, either. Briefly their eyes met before both looked away.

However, Jessica didn’t have to stare at him to know what he looked like. The image of his tall, well-honed body dressed in a pair of casual slacks, sports shirt and boots was imprinted on her mind. He seemed to dominate her office, and it wasn’t small, either. It was the man himself. He exuded that kind of power and authority.

No wonder he was a crackerjack agent. Still, that didn’t excuse his curt behavior. Without having to be told, she knew no one had been able to make him show up here—favor or no favor. She imagined Brant Harding did his own thing, in his own time.

Handsome? No. His features, which were etched with an almost bitter overtone, were too strong for that. Noticeable? Oh, yes. His thick dark hair was entwined with silver and appeared like it wanted to curl, which merely added to its richness. And his dark eyes were surrounded by thick sooty lashes, lashes that most women would kill for, herself included.

A living, breathing work of art was what he was.

Clearing her throat and hoping she’d successfully maintained her composure, Jessica jerked her mind back on track. Remembering her manners, she offered him a cup of coffee.

“No, thanks. But I would like to know who that guy was and what he meant by his parting shot.”

He was also a man who came straight to the point, Jessica noted. A man who apparently didn’t believe in wasting words.

“His name is Lance Saxon, and he’s a councilmember.”

“He’s obviously not happy with some of your latest decisions.”

“That’s an understatement. He’s by far my biggest critic.”

“Is it because of the police stink?”

“So you know about that.”

He shrugged his shoulders, which were the width of a fullback’s. “Thurmon told me you’d cleaned house.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. What I did was relieve the chief of his duties, along with two officers whom I put on suspension.”

Dark eyebrows quirked. “Sounds pretty drastic to me, but I’m sure you had your reasons.”

God, he was irritating. “Evidence was uncovered that the officers were on the take and the chief knew it but did nothing. In addition, there was strong evidence of police brutality, not just in one incident but several. The same officers were involved each time.”

Jessica paused and drew a clear breath. “Pending further investigation, I thought it best for the city that I take such a bold move.”

“So everything is well documented.”

“I have folders filled with complaints,” Jessica said.

“So you do indeed have your guns loaded.”

“That seems to surprise you,” she responded in a testy tone, having difficulty hiding her growing irritation. “Or maybe it’s that you don’t approve.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t.

” Brant’s eyes narrowed. “It’s what the council thinks that matters.”

“If I were a m—” Jessica broke off, choking on the word man.

Brant finished the sentence for her. “If you were a man, you might have more support, right?”

“That’s right,” she said, unable to suppress the bitterness that sometimes caught her unawares. “I suppose you feel the same way.” Not that she gave a damn.

Again he seemed a bit shocked at her directness, though his tone was even and unruffled. “Actually, I don’t have an opinion one way or the other.”

“Good,” she muttered, turning away from his intense gaze.

“Not all on the council are on your side, I take it.”

Jessica faced him again. “Saxon especially, like I said. He’s determined to make me reinstate the chief and the officers, then make a public apology.”

“And you intend to fight him?”

“To the end. I did what I felt was right, but only after I carefully weighed all the evidence. And consequences. Trust me, it wasn’t an easy decision. And in the long run, it could cost me dearly.”

“Your job.” A blunt statement of fact.

“Yes.”

“Do you think Saxon might be behind the threats toward you?”

Jessica was taken aback. “Of course not. He’s a pillar of the community, plus he’s one of the wealthiest men in the city.”

“So?”

She stiffened. “So I don’t think it’s Saxon. He’s pompous and everything that goes with that, but he’s no fool.”

“That remains to be seen.”

Jessica tightened her lips. Talking to him was like constantly bumping into a brick wall.

“What else is going on in your professional life that might generate this kind of menace?”

“There’s a big land deal pending,” she said, following a deep sigh. “More to the point, there’s a huge tract of land I’m trying to annex into the city. In fact, I thought I had all the loose ends tied and knotted, that it was a done deal, only I’ve suddenly encountered severe opposition.”

“Such as?”

“Industry. One of the major land owners, who’s actually a friend of mine, has been approached by a worldwide industrial company. This company wants to build a plant on part of the land. As it stands now, the community where it’s located has a much cheaper tax rate than the city of Dallas.”

“If you get your way, then the company might want to move elsewhere.”

“Most likely they will.”

“Which will screw the owners out of a mega deal.” Brant rubbed his chin. “Not a great scenario.”

“There’s more, I’m afraid,” Jessica added. “The other portion of the land is being developed for garden homes. A polling firm was hired to question the interested parties. The community won hands down, citing city taxes again.”

“Sounds like another hornet’s nest.”

“Maybe.” Jessica stiffened. “Nonetheless, I’m going to fight them on it.”

“Is the council behind you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Could anyone connected with the land project be responsible for the threats?”

“I have no idea, though my first thought would be no.”

Brant rubbed his jaw. “What about your friend?”

“Curtis Riley? Absolutely not.” This time she was empathic.

His eyes drilled her. “How do you know?”

“I just know,” she said with cold emphasis.

“Okay, how ’bout your personal life?”

Jessica bristled. “That’s not an issue.”

“At this point, Mrs. Kincaid, everything’s an issue.” He gave her a hard stare. “And everyone.”

“Not as far as I’m concerned.”

The air suddenly crackled with suppressed hostility.

“Look, if I’m going to do my job effectively,” Brant said, his slightly curled lip registering his impatience, “you have to be forthcoming.”

“Need I remind you it’s not your job yet?” The words were out before she could stop them. Now it was too late to recall them. In that moment the already charged atmosphere seemed to heighten another degree.

“Fine.” Brant pushed away from the wall where he’d been leaning. “When you decide, I’ll be at the Nashes’ house.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

Brant turned at the door, his eyes narrowed to slits. “You have twenty-four hours to make up your mind, then I’m out of here.”

The moment she was alone, Jessica’s entire body wilted. She hadn’t realized she’d been so uptight until then. Biting down on her lower lip, she walked back to her desk and sat down.

Brant Harding had the potential to rev up her nerves as much or more than the threats against her. The idea of having him invade her life was unthinkable. Where did that leave her?

Back at square one.

He had told Thurmon this was crazy, that he wasn’t the right man for the job. Since he’d met the woman, he knew that for a fact. Thank God her clear dislike of him had gotten him off the hook.

She wasn’t about to hire him.

Even so, he thought as he sat in his car in his friends’ driveway, he wasn’t looking forward to conveying the news to them. If he weren’t careful, the whole episode could turn around and bite him on the ass. The monkey had to rest on Jessica’s back. But whether she would assume that responsibility remained to be seen.

That was her problem, not his.

He might as well get out and get his chore over with. Yet he didn’t budge. Instead he took his cell phone out of his pocket with every intention of calling his son. Then it dawned on him that Elliot was probably still in school. Or was school out? Hell, he didn’t even know what his kid was up to. All the more reason why he needed to hang around, he reminded himself, bitterness swelling inside.

But working for that uptight broad was not the answer.

She might be a looker as well as a mover and a shaker, with that lovely face, short tousled hair that moved when she did, and those long, shapely legs, and thin, well-curved body. Too much for him to handle. He would be the first to admit that, and he didn’t feel the least bit shamed by it.

A cold fish under a warm designer outfit.

That had been his initial reaction and that hadn’t changed. Hell to work for, too, he would bet. Spoiled, used to having her own way. Nah, he didn’t need that extra headache. Thurmon would just have to find someone in his firm who would suit her needs. He wished them the best of luck.

Come morning, he was hauling ass back to Arkansas. In just the small amount of time he’d been in the city, his stomach had been knotted. He despised crowds and concrete. He’d had enough of both.

Once he was back on his own turf, he would have to start working on another plan for patching things up with his son. Just because this arrangement hadn’t panned out didn’t mean he’d lost his determination. He would merely have to take another tack.

Moments later, Brant was inside the Nash house, sitting at the kitchen table watching Veronica whip up a bowl of chicken salad for sandwiches. A tray of cheese and fruit was already on the table, along with three choices of bread.

“As you guessed, Thurmon had to run to the office and handle a problem,” she said, turning and smiling at him.

“Figures.”

“You of all people should understand that,” she said, adding to her smile.

“It’s been a long time, but yeah, I understand. It goes with the territory.”

“I’m still not used to it, though. I don’t think I’ll ever be.”

“But you’ve hung in.”

She obviously picked up on the bitterness in his tone, because her animated features sobered. “Are you still smarting from Marsha’s betrayal?”

“No. We should never have married to begin with. The part I regret is Elliot.”

“Have you spoken to him yet, let him know you’re in town?”

He heaved a sigh. “I almost called a few minutes ago, but I didn’t know if he was in school or not.”

“I don’t think it’s quite out yet, but close. Anyway, you’ll have plenty of time now that you’re back for a while.” She paused. “Which brings us to the reason you’re sitting here. How did your meeting with Jessica go?”

Brant didn’t flinch, though he picked up on the anxious note in her voice. “It didn’t.”

“What does that mean?” Veronica’s voice rose a level.

“I don’t think your friend was impressed with me.”

“That’s crazy. You’re the best at this kind of thing.”

“You’ll have to take that up with her.”

“Exactly what did she say?”

“That she’d call me. I told her she had twenty-four hours to make up her mind. But I think it’s already made up.”

“Oh dear,” Veronica said, gnawing on her lower lip. “You can’t desert her, Brant. You just can’t.”

“Hey, she’s the one who’s making that call, not me. I asked some questions she didn’t want to answer, and that seemed to be that.”

“She’s a very private person. Her job forces her to be.”

“I can respect that, but at the same time, when your life’s in danger, you have to make adjustments.” He toyed with a fork. “She apparently hasn’t reached that conclusion yet. Until she does…” He let his voice trail off, but Veronica got his drift.

“I’m really worried about her. She’s so damned independent, yet she misses depending on Porter.”

“What happened to him?”

“He died of a heart attack. He was twenty-five years older than she was. I know what you’re thinking, but it worked for them.”

“Whatever.”

Veronica eased down in the chair across from him. “Promise me you won’t give up. Not until I’ve talked to her again, anyway. Thurmon, too.”

Brant blew out his breath. He hated feeling trapped in the middle of a situation he couldn’t control. Granted, he wanted to help his friends, to do right by them. At the same time, he had to look out for his own best interest.

And watching over Jessica Kincaid was not in his best interest. Still, he had given her a deadline, and he intended to honor that. “All I can promise is to wait for her call.”

Veronica toyed with her lip. “She can be really stubborn.”

“If I get the green light, I’ll do my best.”

“Fair enough,” Veronica said, looking slightly relieved. “Maybe she’ll come to her senses.”

He doubted that, but he kept his mouth shut.