His Touch

“He hates us!” Opal cried, her features twisted with bitterness. “Don’t you ever forget that. And don’t ever mention his name again. As far as I’m concerned, he’s dead. You hear that? He’s dead.”

Fearing her mother was going to grab her again, Jessica stepped out of harm’s way, whirled and ran to her room, where she cried until she couldn’t cry anymore. Then she got up and went to the window that overlooked the front yard. She stood there all day and night waiting for her daddy to come back home.

He never did.

From then on, her life was never the same. Her mother changed, turned into a mistrusting, bitter woman who continually bad-mouthed men, instilling in both her girls how important it was for them to stand on their own, never to trust or depend on a man for anything, especially their livelihood.

Jessica had taken that lesson to heart, rarely ever dating until she went to college. Even then, she had only one serious relationship, which failed when she refused to marry the boy.

Only after she graduated from law school and began practicing law had she dated anyone else seriously, and that was Porter. That had been a giant step for her.

Scar tissue covered a portion of her heart. And every so often thoughts of her mother and that awful day would prick that tissue and reopen the wound. She would hemorrhage from the heart again.

Like now. Feeling the wetness on her face, Jessica grabbed a tissue out of the box. This weak display of emotions would never do. The tears resulted from the havoc she was going through, mainly the threats against her.

Once that was fixed, her life would surely revert to normal. So how was she going to stop the menace? Simple. Do what she should already have done.

With a resigned sigh, Jessica reached for the phone and punched out the Nashes’ phone number, praying she wasn’t making a big mistake.

Six

He would rather have a root canal than be confined indoors, doing what he’d sworn he would never do again. Brant thought he had learned long ago never to say never. He guessed he hadn’t.

He could look for a scapegoat all he wanted, but there wasn’t any. He had no one to blame but himself for letting his conscience overrule his sound judgment. A cynical smile altered his lips.

Face it, Harding, you don’t have a conscience.

He had lost that years ago. Yet something was sure as hell playing pull and tug with his insides or he wouldn’t be in this predicament. His son. He was that something. If it hadn’t been for Elliot, he wouldn’t have fallen victim to Thurmon’s arm twisting in the first place.

But dammit, wallowing in self-pity wasn’t going to do any good or change one thing. Besides, it wasn’t like him to look back. Maybe that had to do with the fact that he was a trained marksman whose eyes were always ahead, on the target.

He admitted that part of his ill humor stemmed from the improbability of the situation that had again sneaked up on him and bitten him in the rear.

He really hadn’t expected her to call. In fact he’d been stunned. After their encounter the day before, he’d figured he would be making plans to see Elliot, then return to Arkansas.

Brant wondered what happened to make her change her mind. When she’d called the Nashes’ house and told him he had the job, she had asked him to meet her at her office the following morning. Early.

He was there at the appointed time. He suspected she was, too, alone behind closed doors. Not a good idea. Brant peered at his watch just as the door to her office opened and Jessica walked out.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Harding,” she said in her cool, polite manner.

It was obvious she wasn’t any happier with the situation today than yesterday. She wasn’t happy with him or what he represented, that was the bottom line. Too bad. She got the entire package, whether she wanted it or not.

“I’m willing to make this as painless as possible for both of us,” he responded in the same tone.

An uneasy silence fell between them.

Her assistant picked that moment to breeze in, and she introduced him. The young man was dressed so comically it was all Brant could do to keep a straight face. And smiles didn’t come easy to him. Still, that bow tie and black-and-white shoes he had on should’ve been outlawed in the work place. On second thought, they should have been outlawed, period.

He shrugged inwardly. As long as Eason was competent and Jessica was comfortable with him, Brant couldn’t care less. The guy’s mode of dress was the least of his concerns.

“I know we need to talk, to lay some ground rules,” she said, “but it’ll have to wait.” Pausing, she glanced back into her office. “I have a full agenda today,” she added awkwardly, obviously having difficulty dealing with this abrupt change in her life—a stranger invading it.

For a moment Brant felt a pinch of sympathy for her. But it passed just as quickly. He wasn’t about to develop feelings for her one way or the other. As soon as he nailed whoever was behind this menace, he would be gone. Until then, he would have to suck it up, the same as she would.

“No problem. If you need me, I’ll be here.”

“Where?”

He picked up on the panic in her voice, and his lips twisted. “Wherever you want.”

“Surely not in my office proper.”

This time her tone was so strained it came out a raspy whisper. For some reason that small change added to her attractiveness. Realizing his thoughts had betrayed him, Brant mentally shook himself.

“Not unless you want me there,” he said, knowing damn well she didn’t.

“No,” she countered quickly. “Here in the reception area will be fine.” Her gaze shifted to a stack of magazines. “Maybe you can keep occupied.”

“Don’t worry about me. Waiting and watching is what I do.”

She visibly let go of a breath. “Fine, then.”

Once she was back at her desk, Tony turned to him. “Please bear with her.” His eyes were anxious. “It’ll take her a while to get use to this drastic change.” He paused and touched his plastered-down hair. “But I’m glad you’re around. This person who’s after her apparently means business.”

Brant was instantly on the alert. “Has something else happened?”

“Yes,” Tony said almost in a hushed tone. “In case she doesn’t mention it to you, ask her about the e-mail she received last night.”

Ah, so that was what had made her call him. She’d gotten scared. Good. She was wising up. This pervert could end up harming her. No longer. The sicko would have to go through him to get to her.

“Thanks for the tip.”

Tony nodded, then went into Jessica’s office and shut the door.

Although it had been a long day, it hadn’t been boring—too much activity. He’d been busy handling traffic. There had been a steady stream of people in and out of Jessica’s office all day. Millie, her girl Friday, had identified them beforehand, as if sensing Brant would have stopped them otherwise.

In addition, he’d touched base with Thurmon a couple of times, though they hadn’t been able to talk much. But then, there really wasn’t anything to talk about, since he hadn’t had time alone with Jessica to talk over the situation. His instincts told him she’d planned her day that way.

Maybe not. Maybe he wasn’t being fair. He had to hand it to her; she was one busy lady, with her fingers in every pie in the city, which could be what had landed her in the jam to begin with. She had royally pissed off someone, that was for sure.

Now, as the work day came to an end, Brant leaned against the wall and crisscrossed his arms over his chest. The office had finally emptied, leaving Jessica alone. She suddenly appeared in his line of vision. She looked weary. Or maybe concerned was a better word.

What was on her mind? Him, probably, he told himself with his usual cynicism. What to do with him after they left here. Well, he wasn’t jumping through hoops over spending the evening alone with her, either. But that was part of the job, occasionally one of the hazards. In this case, it was definitely the latter.

He hadn’t meant to stare at her as she moved about her office, but in spite of himself, his gaze held steady. Just for a moment he indulged himself. No doubt she was an eye grabber. A classy one at that.

Great profile.