The Daughter. BEVERLY BARTON

she stopped directly in front of him, he flashed her his I’d-like-to-strip-you-naked-and-screw-you-right-here-and-now smile.

      She didn’t return the smile. Okay, so she wasn’t interested. No big deal.

      ‘What can I do for you?’ he asked.

      ‘You’re Reed Conway, aren’t you?’

      She knew him? Was she someone from his past? An old girlfriend? He’d managed to lay several Spring Creek debutantes when he was in high school. But not this one. If he’d ever gotten in her pants, he’d remember her.

      ‘Who wants to know?’ He gave her a once-over, concentrating on the area from breasts to knees. Giving a lady that kind of sexual appraisal had away of separating the women from the girls, as well as the available from the unavailable. Besides, he enjoyed looking. She had nice tits – big, but not too big. A small waist. And wide hips. Not today’s fashionable figure, but still the kind that gave a guy a woody.

      She removed her sunglasses and held them tightly in her left hand. A hand without rings. Short, neatly manicured nails with clear polish. Not flashy. Not married. Not engaged.

      He took a good look at her face, but didn’t instantly recognize her. Had he known her? She was pretty. Not beautiful the way his mother and sister were, but alluring in an almost exotic way. Full lips, glazed with a colorless sheen. A square face, a well-defined nose, and a pair of large, striking, dark eyes – eyes so brown they appeared almost black.

      She stared at him, her gaze boring into him and her lips slightly parted. Suddenly he remembered those eyes. Other things about her had changed. She’d lost weight, grown an inch or two taller, and now possessed an air of confidence that had been lacking in the young girl who’d watched him with those remarkable black eyes.

      ‘Ella Porter, my, how you’ve changed.’ He grinned when a look of shock drained the color from her face.

      ‘So have you, Mr Conway.’

      ‘Why so formal, Ella? Call me Reed.’

      ‘Mr Conway, I have a reason for coming here, and it isn’t so that we can get to know each other on a first-name basis.’

      ‘Then I take it you didn’t stop by to welcome me home on behalf of the Porter family.’ He sensed the tension in her tighten, and he couldn’t help enjoying being able to irritate her so easily.

      ‘I received a rather disturbing letter today.’

      She snapped open her small gray shoulder bag. That was when he noticed her hands were trembling. She was scared. Scared of him. Son of a bitch! She jerked a white envelope from her purse and held it between them as if it were a weapon that would hold him at bay.

      ‘Bad news?’ he asked flippantly.

      ‘Bad news for you,’ she replied, shaking the envelope in his face. ‘I’m not going to run to my father with this. Do you hear me, Mr Conway? Writing me vulgar, harassing letters isn’t going to upset my father, because he won’t see this letter or any future letters. You’re wasting you time trying to get to him through me.’

      ‘So you received a vulgar, harassing letter today and you immediately assumed it was from me?’

      ‘Are you denying that you sent this?’ She flapped the envelope in his face again.

      He grabbed her wrist. She gasped. The fear in her eyes gave him an odd sense of pleasure, but it was a pleasure mixed with pain. ‘Stop waving that damn thing in my face.’ She twisted her wrist, trying to free it from his grip, but he held fast. She glared at him, the fear in her eyes turning to anger. Ah, he liked the anger much more than the fear. ‘I’m not denying anything. Nor am I admitting to anything.’

      ‘I hardly expected you to admit it,’ she said, glancing from his face to her wrist. ‘Will you please let go of me?’

      ‘All in good time, Miss Ella.’ Tugging on her wrist, he practically dragged her toward the side door of the garage. ‘But first, I think you and I need to have a little private talk.’

       5

      Reed hauled Ella into the garage. She protested verbally and struggled against his overpowering strength. What had she been thinking, coming here and confronting him this way? The man was a convicted murderer!

      ‘Let go of me this instant or you’ll be sorry.’

      He ignored her, damn him! He pulled her inside a windowless room that possessed only two pieces of furniture: a cheap ‘Kmart special’ swivel chair and an old metal desk piled high with books, magazines and papers. A small air conditioner hummed and rattled in a hole cut out of the concrete wall. With wide eyes and mouth agape, Briley Joe shot out of the chair.

      ‘We need to use your office for a few minutes,’ Reed said.

      Briley Joe shut his mouth and stared at them, grinning at first and then grimacing when he apparently recognized Ella. ‘You do know who she is, don’t you?’

      ‘Yeah, I know who she is.’

      ‘Have you lost your mind, manhandling Webb Porter’s daughter?’

      ‘If he doesn’t let me go, I’ll have him arrested,’ Ella said.

      ‘Hey, cuz, let her go. You can always find another woman. You don’t want to wind up back in the pen over a piece of ass.’

      ‘A piece of – how dare you!’ Ella glared at Briley Joe. Did that imbecile think Reed had dragged her into the garage office for a little slap and tickle? Her heart nearly thumped out of her chest. Unbidden thoughts swirled through her mind. She started to protest such Neanderthal treatment once again, but before she could do more than open her mouth, Reed shoved her down in the chair that Briley Joe had recently vacated. She gasped aloud as her bottom hit the seat, which was still warm from Briley Joe’s body heat.

      ‘Close the door on your way out,’ Reed told his cousin, who left immediately and quietly closed the door behind him.

      ‘I don’t know what you think this little scene will accomplish, Mr Conway, but I hope it’s worth it to you because I can assure you that it’s going to cost you dearly.’ Ella used her authoritarian judicial voice, the same commanding tone she used in the courtroom.

      Reed settled his backside onto the edge of the desk, reached out, and spun around the chair she sat in so that she was forced to face him. Resting his hands on the chair’s armrests on either side of her hips, he leaned forward, getting close enough so that she could feel his breath on her face. Startled by his nearness, she blinked several times.

      ‘You certainly grew up nice, Miss Ella.’ He raked his gaze over her face and down her throat, stopping at her breasts, then retraced his visual journey until their eyes met. ‘Real nice.’

      ‘Is this step two in your plan to sexually harass me so that my father will come after you?’ Keeping her gaze locked with his, she refused to let him know how much he intimidated her. He was a big man, powerfully built, and surrounded by an undeniable aura of danger.

      ‘You’ve got me all wrong,’ he said, grinning. ‘Besides, it seems to me, if anybody’s doing any harassing, it’s you.’

      ‘Me?’ She wanted to knock that cocky smile off his face. Her hands balled into fists, crushing the white envelope in the process. She prided herself on her even-tempered disposition. But this man had enraged her so easily that she felt shocked at her irrational reaction to him.

      ‘Yeah, you. I was here at work, minding my own business, being a law-abiding citizen, when you showed up and started tossing out accusations, accusing me of something I didn’t do. I figure that could be called harassment.’

      ‘Are you denying that you sent this to me?’ She held up the letter she still clutched