The Black Widow

Jordan clutched her hands together and moistened her lips with a quick, light lick.

Did she have any idea what kind of an effect she had on him? Sure she did. She was playing him and he’d damn well better not forget it.

“Yes, I’m sure you may use Dan’s study. I—I hadn’t been back in there until yesterday when I interrupted your private conversation with Ryan.”

“Everyone is a suspect until I rule them out, including you and Ryan. If you have a problem with that, I need to know now.”

She almost smiled. Her lips curved upward ever so slightly and he noted a faint trace of laughter in her eyes. “Please, call me Jordan. And may I call you Rick?”

He nodded. What sort of game was she playing? Please, call me Jordan. And may I call you Rick?

A soft rap on the half-open door interrupted them.

“Yes, come in, please,” Jordan said, as if she was expecting someone.

A plump, middle-aged woman entered the room, a silver tray in her hands. She set the tray on Jordan’s desk.

“Thank you, Vadonna,” Jordan said.

“Yes, ma’am. Will there be anything else?”

“No, thank you, that will be all.”

While the woman exited, Jordan indicated the silver pot and accessories on the tray. “Would you care for coffee?”

Rick shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Jordan focused on him. “You laid your cards on the table, Rick, and asked me point blank if I killed my husband. Now it’s my turn to be brutally honest. I don’t like you. I don’t want you here invading my home and my grief, taking away my privacy and questioning my integrity. But if my husband was murdered, I want his killer found and brought to justice. I want you to do your job. However, if you do anything to sully Dan Price’s reputation, I’ll see to it personally that you regret it. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am. Crystal clear. Any skeletons your husband had in his closet will remain there.”

She sighed heavily. “I expect to be kept up-to-date on the investigation. For now, a daily report will suffice.”

The lady was accustomed to giving orders and having them obeyed. The privilege of wealth—her dead husband’s wealth. “Will every morning right after breakfast be suitable for my daily report or do you prefer for me to report right before bedtime?”

“Every morning works for me.” A cool, succinct reply.

When she stood, he stood.

“I’ll have Tobias show you to your room. If there’s anything you need, please let us know.” As she walked toward the door, he followed. “Dinner is at seven.”

She opened the door and ushered him out of her study, effectively dismissing him. “If you’ll wait in the foyer, I’ll find Tobias.”

He watched her as she walked away. She moved with a fluid grace that came as naturally to her as breathing. Jordan Price’s kind of class couldn’t be learned. It was innate.

If he didn’t watch his step, the lady would have him wrapped around her little finger in no time at all.

Rene washed hurriedly, removing the smell of sex from her body, then not bothering to dry off, she yanked on her thong and pulled up her slacks. As she hooked her bra, she noticed a bruise on her left breast. J.C. liked to bite, not forcefully enough to bring blood to the surface, but hard enough to bruise. While slipping on her blouse, she returned to the bedroom and found J.C., still naked, sprawled in the center of the bed, a rakish smile on his too-handsome face.

“What’s the hurry, babe? Sister won’t need you this after noon. She’s got that stud Powell agent to keep her company.” J.C. chuckled.

“Will you shut up! What a thing to say, to imply that Jordan would find Mr. Carson sexually appealing and poor Dan not cold in the ground.”

“Dead’s dead. Dan’s as dead now as he will be six months from now. Besides, you and I know that she wasn’t getting any from old Danny boy.”

“Hush! You say the most awful things. Have you no respect for your sister and Dan?”

“I respected my brother-in-law’s power and money. And I respect the hell out of Jordan, frigid bitch that she is.”

“Get up, take a shower and get dressed,” Rene told him, hating herself for having succumbed to J.C.’s immeasurable charm once again. The guy could be a real jerk, but he was dynamite in bed. At least she thought so. Maybe the fact that she was halfway in love with him colored her vision.

“The only reason you think Jordan is frigid is because she can so easily resist you.” Picking up a comb from the vanity, she raked it through her short black hair. “For God’s sake, she’s your sister and you still hit on her. You’re a real ass, you know that?”

J.C. slithered out of bed like the snake he was, and stood to his full five-eleven height. Lean, lightly muscled, his skin appearing darker than it actually was because of his sandy hair and pale blue eyes, the man was gorgeous.

As his gaze glided over her sensually, he moved toward her, then reached out and jerked her up against him. “She’s my stepsister. Technically, if I screwed her, it wouldn’t be incest.”

“You’re a worthless shit.”

He grinned, rubbed his semi-erect penis against her and grabbed her butt. “Yeah, but I’m your worthless shit, aren’t I?”

Rene pulled away from him. “I’m not fool enough to think you’re exclusively mine. Not when I know you’ll fuck just about anything with a pussy.”

J.C. laughed. “Honey, you know you’re my favorite pussy.”

Ignoring him as he turned and headed for the bathroom, Rene inspected herself in the mirror. She needed lipstick. Otherwise, she’d do.

She hadn’t seen Jordan since breakfast this morning and it was past time she checked in with her boss. It had taken her a while to adjust to working for Jordan instead of with her. They had met when they’d been in college, both working two jobs to pay their tuition. A few years after graduation, Jordan had called her out of the blue and offered her a position at the Atlanta PR firm where Jordan had just received a promotion. They had remained friends ever since and when Jordan married Senator Daniel Price and needed a personal assistant, she’d offered her the job. She had snapped it up posthaste.

Halfway along the upstairs hall and lost in her thoughts, Rene almost ran over Darlene Wright, who stepped aside just in time to prevent being hit head-on.

“Good afternoon.” Rene spoke to the old biddy simply out of courtesy.

Turning up her sharp, birdlike nose, Darlene gave Rene a condescending glance. “Have you seen Jordan?”

“Not since breakfast. Why?”

“I know she was expecting Mr. Carson, the Powell agent, and I wanted to make sure she’s all right and that his arrival didn’t upset her.”

“Why should his being here upset her? After all, she hired him, didn’t she?”

Darlene snorted. “I suspect that Ryan gave her little choice. If he had simply accepted the medical examiner’s findings, it would be unnecessary for Jordan to suffer more than she already has.”

“You’re right.” As much as she hated to agree with this snooty old bitch, she, too, didn’t want to see Jordan put through the wringer. “But all we can do is stand by and try to help her as much as we can. And pray that Dan wasn’t murdered.”

“I’m sure he wasn’t. After all, who would want to kill a lovely man like Dan?”

“He was a sweetie, wasn’t he?” Rene sighed. “Our poor Jordan. She has the damnedest luck with men.”