by Diana Palmer
“So would I,” he confided, motioning for a waiter.
The waiter, with a fine sense of irony, walked right past Jordan to take Harley's order. Julie Merrill was sputtering like a stepped-on garden hose.
“Two more iced teas, Charlie,” Harley told the waiter. “And thanks for giving us preference.”
“Oh, I know who the best people are, Harley,” the boy said with a wicked grin. And he walked right past
Jordan and Julie again, without even looking at them. A minute later, Jordan got up and stalked over to the counter
to order their drinks.
“He'll smolder for the rest of the night over that,” Harley mused. “So will she, unless I miss my guess. Isn't it amazing,” he added thoughtfully, “that a man with as much sense as Jordan Powell can't see right through that debutante?”
“How is it that you can?” Libby asked him curiously.
He shrugged. “I know politicians all too well,” he said, and for a moment, his expression was distant. “Old man Merrill has been hitting the bottle pretty hard lately,” he said. “It isn't going to sit well with his constituents that he got pulled over and charged with drunk driving by Jacobsville' s finest.”
“Do you think they'll convict him?” she wondered aloud.
“You can bet money on it,” Harley replied. “The world has shifted ten degrees. Local politicians don't meet in parked cars and make policy anymore. The sunshine laws mean that the media get wind of anything crooked and they report it. Senator Merrill has been living in the past. He's going to get a hell of a wake-up cal at the primary election, when Calhoun Ballenger knocks him off the Democratic ballot as a contender.”
“Mr. Ballenger looks like a gentleman,” Libby commented, noticing the closeness of Calhoun and his brunette wife Abby. “He and his wife have been married a long time, haven't they?”
“Years,” Harley said. “He and Justin are honest and hardworking men. They came up from nothing, too, al-though Justin's wife Shelby was a Jacobs before she married him,” he reminded her. “A direct descendant of Big
John Jacobs. But don't you think either of the Ballenger brothers would have been taken in by Julie Merrill, even when they were still single.”
She paused to thank the waiter, who brought their two glasses of tall, cold iced tea. Jordan was still waiting for
his order at the counter, while Julie glared at Libby and Harley.
“She's not quite normal, is she?” Libby said quietly. “I mean, that outburst in Barbara's Cafe was so violent.”
“People on drugs usually are violent,” Harley replied. “And irrational.” He looked right into Libby's eyes.
“She's involved in some pretty nasty stuff, Libby. I can't tell you what I know, but Jordan is damaging himself just by being seen in public with her. The campaigns will get hot and heavy later this month and some dirty linen is about to be exposed to God and the general public.”
Libby was concerned. “Jordan's a good man,” she said quietly, her eyes going like homing pigeons to his lean, handsome face.
He caught her looking at him and glared. Julie, seeing his attention diverted, looked, too.
Once he returned to the table Julie leaned over and whispered something to Jordan that made him give Libby a killing glare before he started ignoring her completely.
“Watch your back,” Harley told Libby as he sipped his iced tea. “She considers you a danger to her plans with
Jordan. She'll sell you down the river if she can.”
She sighed miserably. “First my stepmother, now Julie,” she murmured. “I feel like I've got a target painted on my forehead.”
“We all have bad times,” Harley told her gently, and slid a big hand over one of hers where it lay on the table. “We get through them.”
“You, too?” she wondered aloud.
“Yeah. Me, too,” he replied, and he smiled at her. Neither of them saw the furious look on Jordan Powell's face, or the calculating look on Julie's.
The following week, when Libby went to Barbara's Cafe for lunch, she walked right into Jordan Powell on the sidewalk. He was alone, as she was, and his expression made her feel cold all over.
“What's this about you going up to San Antonio for the night with Harley last Wednesday?” he asked bluntly.
Libby couldn't even formulate a reply for the shock. She'd driven Curt over to Duke Wright's place early
Wednesday afternoon and from there she'd driven up to San Antonio to obtain some legal documents from the county clerk's office for Mr. Kemp. She hadn't even seen Harley there.
“I thought you were pure as the driven snow,” Jordan continued icily. His dark eyes narrowed on her shocked face. “You put on a good act, don't you, Libby? I don't need to be a mind-reader to know why, either. I'm rich and you and your brother are about to lose your ranch.”
“Janet hasn't started probate yet,” she faltered.
“That's not what I hear.”
“I don't care what you hear,” she told him flatly. “Neither Curt nor I care very much what you think, either, Jordan. But you're going to run into serious problems if you hang out with Julie Merrill until her father loses the election.”
He glared down at her. “He isn't going to lose,” he assured her.
She hated seeing him be so stubborn, especially when she had at least some idea of what Julie was going to drag him down into. She moved a step closer, her green eyes soft and beseeching. “Jordan, you're an intelligent man,” she began slowly. “Surely you can see what Julie wants you for”
A worldly look narrowed his eyes as they searched over her figure without any reaction at all. “Julie wants me,
all right,” he replied, coolly. “That's what's driving you to make these wild comments, isn't it? You're jealous because I'm spending so much time with her.”
She didn't dare let on what she was feeling. She forced a careless smile. “Am I? You think I don't know when a man is teasing me?”
“You know more than I ever gave you credit for and that's the truth,” he said flatly. “You and Harley Fowler.” He made it sound like an insult.
“Harley is a fine man,'' she said, defending him.
“Obviously you think so, or you wouldn't be shacking up with him,” he accused. “Does your brother know?”
“I'm a big girl now,” she said, furious at the insinuation.
“Both of you had better remember that I make a bad enemy,” he told her. “Whatever happens with your ranch, I don't want to have a subdivision full of people on my border.”
He didn't know that Libby and Curt had already discussed how they were going to manage without their father's life insurance policy to pay the mortgage payments I that were still owed. Riddle had taken out a mortgage on I the ranch to buy Janet's Mercedes. Janet had waltzed off with the money and the private detective
Jordan had recommended to Mr. Kemp had drawn a blank when he tried to dig into Janet's past. The will hadn't been probated, either, so there was no way Riddle Curtis's children could claim any of their inheritance with which to pay bills or make that huge mortgage payment. They'd had to let their only helper their part-time cowboy go, for lack of funds to pay him. They only had one horse left and they'd had
to sell off most of their cattle. The only money coming in right now was what Curt and Libby earned in their respective jobs, and it wasn't much.
Of course, Libby wasn't going to share that information with a hostile Jordan Powell. Things were so bad that she and Curt might have to move off the ranch anyway because they couldn't make that mortgage payment at the end of the month. It was over eight hundred dollars. Their collective take-home pay wouldn't amount to that much and there were still other bills owing. Janet had run up huge bills while Riddle was still alive.
Jordan felt sick at what he was saying to Libby. He was jealous of Harley Fowler, furiously jealous. He couldn't bear the thought of Libby in bed with the other man. She wasn't even denying what Julie had assured
&
nbsp; him had happened between them. Libby, in Harley's arms, kissing him with such hunger that his toes tingled. Libby, loving Harley
Jordan ached to have her for himself. He dreamed of her every night. But Libby was with Harley now. He'd lost his chance. He couldn't bear it!
“Is Harley going to loan you enough money to keep the ranch going until Janet's found?” he wondered aloud.
He smiled coldly. “He hasn't got two dimes to rub together, from what I hear.”
Libby remembered the mortgage payments she couldn't make. Once, she might have bent her pride enough to ask Jordan to loan it to her. Not anymore. Not after what he'd said to her.
She lifted her chin. “That's not your business, Jordan,” she said proudly.
“Don't expect me to lend it to you,” he said for spite.
“Jordan, I wouldn't ask you for a loan if the house burned down,” she assured him, unflinching. “Now, if
you'll excuse me, I'm using up my lunch hour.” She started to go around him, but he caught her arm and inarched her down the little alley between her office And the town square. It was an alcove, away from traffic, with no prying eyes.
While she was wondering what was on his mind, he backed her up against the cold brick and brought his mouth down on her lips.
She pushed at his chest, but he only gave her his weight, pressing her harder into the wall. His own body was almost as hard, especial y when his hips shifted suddenly, and lowered squarely against her own. She shivered at the slow caress of his hands on her ribcage while the kiss went on and on. She couldn't breathe. She didn't want to breathe. Her body ached for something more than this warm, heady torment. She moaned huskily under the hard, furious press of his mouth.
He lifted his head a bare inch and looked into her wide green eyes with possession and desire. It never stopped.
He couldn't get within arm's length of her without giving in to temptation. Did she realize? No. She had no idea. She thought it was a punishment for her harsh words. It was more. It was anguish.
“You still want me,” he ground out. “Do you think I don't know?”
“What?” she murmured, her eyes on his mouth. She could barely think at all. She felt his body so close that when he breathed, her chest deflated. Her breasts ached at the warm pressure of his broad chest. It was heaven to be so close to him. And she didn't dare let it show.
“Are you trying to prove something?” she murmured, forcing her hands to push instead of pull at his shoulders.
“Only that Harley isn't in my league,” he said in a husky, arrogant tone, as he bent again and forced her mouth open under the slow, exquisite skill of his kisses. “In fact,” he bit off against her lips, “neither are you, cupcake.”
She wanted to come back with some snappy reply. She really did. But the sensations he was arousing were hypnotic, drugging. She felt him move one long, powerful jean-clad leg in between both of hers. It was broad daylight, in the middle of town. He was making love to her against a wall. And she didn't care.
She moved against him, her lips welcoming, her hands spreading, caressing, against his ribcage, his chest.
There was no tomorrow. There was only Jordan, wanting her.
Her body throbbed in time with her frantic heartbeat. She was hot all over, swelling, aching. She wanted relief. Anything!
Voices coming close pushed them apart when she would have said that nothing could. Jordan stepped back, his face a rigid mask. She looked up at him, her crushed mouth red from the ardent pressure, her eyes soft and misty and dazed.
Her pocketbook was on the ground. He reached down and handed it back to her, watching as she put the strap over her shoulder and stared up at him, still bemused.
She wanted to tell him that Harley was a better lover, to make some flip remark that would sting him. But she couldn't.
He was in pretty much the same shape. He hated the very thought of Harley. But even through the jealousy, he realized that Libby's responses weren't those of any experienced woman. When Julie kissed him, it was with her whole body. She was more than willing to do anything he liked. But he couldn't take Julie to bed because he didn't want her that way. It was a source of irritation and amazement to him. And to Julie, who made sarcastic remarks about his prowess.
It wasn't a lack of ability. It was just a lack of desire. Hut he raged with it when he looked at Libby. He'd never wanted a woman to the point of madness until now and she was the one woman he couldn't have.
“Women and their damned ambitions,” he said under his breath. “Damn Harley. And damn you, Libby!”
“Damn you, too, Jordan,” she said breathlessly. “And don't expect me to drag you into any more alleys and make love to you, if that's going to be your attitude!”
She turned and walked away before he had time to realize what she'd said. He had to bite back a laugh. This was no laughing matter. He had to get a grip on himself before Libby realized what was wrong with him.
After their disturbing encounter, she wondered if she and Curt wouldn't do better to just move off their property and live somewhere else. In fact, she told herself, that might not be a bad idea. Mr. Kemp didn't agree.
“You have to maintain a presence on the property,” he told Libby firmly. “If you move out, Janet might use that against you in court.”
“You don't understand,” she groaned. “Jordan is driving me crazy. And every time I look out the window, Julie's speeding down the road to Jordan's house.”
“Jordan's being conned,” he ventured.
“I know that, but he won't listen,” Libby said, sitting down heavily behind her desk. “Julie's got him convinced that I'm running wild with Harley Fowler.”
“That woman is big trouble,” he said. “I'd give a lot to see her forced to admit what she did to the Culbertson girl at that party.”
“You think it was her?” she asked, shocked.
He shrugged. “Nobody else had a motive,” he said, his eyes narrow and cold. “Shannon Culbertson was running against her for class president and Julie wanted to win. I don't think she planned to kill her. She was going to sets her up with one of the boys she was dating and ruin Shan-non's reputation. But it backfired. At least, that's my theory. If this gets out it's going to disgrace her father even further.”
“Isn't he already disgraced enough because of the drunk-driving charges?” she asked.
“He and his cronies at city hall are trying desperately to get those charges dropped, before they get into some news-paper whose publisher doesn't owe him a favor,” Kemp replied, perching on the edge of her desk. “There's a disciplinary hearing at city hall next month for the officers involved. Grier says the council is going to try to have the police officers fired.”
She smiled. “I can just see Chief Grier letting that happen.”
Kemp chuckled. “I think the city council is going to be in for a big surprise. Our former police chief, Chet
Blake, never would buck the council, or stand up for any officer who did something politically incorrect with the city fathers. Grier isn't like his cousin.”
“What if they fire him, too?'' she asked.
He stood up. “If they even try, there will be a recall of the city council and the mayor,” Kemp said simply. “I can almost guarantee it. A lot of people locally are fed up with city management. Solid waste is backing up, there's no provision for water conservation, the fire department hasn't got one piece of modern equipment, and we're losing revenue hand over fist because nobody wants to mention raising taxes.”
“I didn't realize that.”
“Grier did.” He smiled to himself. “He's going to shake up this town. It won't be a bad thing, either.”
“Do you think he'll stay?”
Kemp nodded. “He's put down deep roots already, although I don't think he realizes how deep they go just yet.”
Like everyone else in Jacobsville, Libby knew what was going on in Cash Grier's private life. After all, it had been in most of the tabloids. Exactly w
hat the situation was between him and his houseguest, Tippy Moore, was anybody's guess. The couple were equal y tight-lipped in public.
“Could I ask you to do something for me, sir?” she asked suddenly.
“Of course.”
“Could you find out if they've learned anything about Daddy at the state crime lab and how much longer it's going to be before they have a report?” she asked.
He frowned. “Good Lord, I didn't realize how long it had been since the exhumation,” he said. “Certainly. I'll get right on it, in fact.”
“Thanks,” she said.
He shrugged. “No problem.” He got to his feet and hesitated. “Have you talked to Violet lately?” he asked reluctantly.
“She's lost weight and she's having her hair frosted,” she began.
His lips made a thin line. “I don't want to know about her appearance. I only wondered how she likes her new job.”
“A lot,” she replied. She pursed her lips. “In fact, she and my brother are going out on a date Saturday night.”
“Your brother knows her?” he asked.
She nodded. “He's working for Duke Wright, too”
“Since when?” he exclaimed. “He was Jordan's right-hand man!”
She averted her eyes. “Not anymore. Jordan said some pretty bad things about me and Curt quit.”
Kemp cursed. “I don't understand how a man who was so concerned for both of you has suddenly become an enemy. However,” he added, “I imagine Julie Merrill has something to do with his change of heart.”
“He's crazy about her, from what we hear.”
“He's crazy, all right,” he said, turning back toward his office. “He'll go right down the tubes with her and her father if he isn't careful.”
“I tried to tell him. He accused me of being jealous.”
He glanced back at her. “And you aren't?” he probed softly.
Her face closed up. “What good would it do, Mr. Kemp? Either people like you or they don't.”
Kemp had thought, privately, that it was more than liking, on Jordan's part. But apparently, he'd been wrong right down the line.
“Bring your pad, if you don't mind, Libby,” he said. “I want you to look up a case for me at the courthouse law library.”