Convincing Alex

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Authors: Nora Roberts
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looked when he walked in. Then he lifted his head and looked at her, and she saw she was wrong.
    His eyes hadn’t looked so tired, so terribly tired, twenty minutes before.
    â€œI told you to stay in the car.”
    â€œI did.”
    â€œThen get back in.”
    Gently she laid a hand on his arm. “Alexi, you made your point. I’ll take a cab. You have things to do.”
    â€œI’ve done them.” He skirted the car and yanked open the passenger door. She could almost feel his body vibrating, but when he spoke, his voice was firm, sharp. “Get in the damn car, Bess.”
    She didn’t have the heart to argue, so she crossed over and complied. “What about Judd?”
    â€œHe’s heading to the cop shop to file the report.”
    â€œOh.”
    He let the silence hang for three blocks. It hadn’t been his first, but he hadn’t told Judd that the bright, shaky sickness didn’t fade. It only turned inward, becoming anger, disgust, frustration. And you never stopped asking yourself why.
    â€œAren’t you going to ask how it felt? What went through my mind? What happens next?”
    â€œNo.” She said it quietly. “I don’t have to ask when I can see. And it’s easy enough to find out what happens next.”
    It wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want her to be understanding, or quietly agreeable, or to turn those damned sympathetic eyes on him. “Passing up a chance for grist for your mill? McNee, you surprise me. Or can’t your TV cop blow away a couple of stoned perps?”
    He was trying to hurt her. Well, she understood that, Bess thought. It often helped to lash out when you were in pain. “I’m not sure I can fit it into any of our scheduled story lines, but who knows?”
    His hands clenched on the wheel. “I don’t want to see you downthere again, understand? If I do, I swear I’ll find a way to lock you up for a while.”
    â€œDon’t threaten me, Detective. You had a rough night, and I’m willing to make allowances, but don’t threaten me.” Leaning back, she shut her eyes. “In fact, do us both a favor and don’t talk to me at all.”
    He didn’t, but when he pulled up at her building, the smoke from his anger was still hanging in the air. Satisfied, she slammed out of the car. She’d taken two steps when he caught up with her.
    â€œCome here,” he demanded, and hauled her against him. She tasted it, all the violence and pain and fury of what he’d done that night. What he’d had to do. There was no way for her to comfort. She wouldn’t have dared. There was no way for her to protest. She couldn’t have tried. Instead, she let the sizzling passion of the kiss sweep over her.
    Just as abruptly, he let her go. He’d be trembling in a minute, and he knew it. God, he needed…something from her. Needed, but didn’t want.
    â€œStay off my turf, McNee.” He turned on his heel and left her standing on the sidewalk.

C HAPTER F OUR
    â€œW hen it comes to murder,” Bess mused, “I like a nice, quick-acting poison. Something exotic, I think.”
    Lori pursed her lips. “If we’re going to do it, I really think he should be shot. Through the heart.”
    Shifting in her seat at the cluttered table, Bess scooped up a handful of sugared almonds. “Too ordinary. Reed’s a sophisticated, sensuous cad. I think he should go out with more than just a bang.” She munched and considered. “In fact, we could make it a slow, insidious poison—milk a few weeks of him wasting away.”
    â€œNagging headaches, dizzy spells, loss of appetite,” Lori put in.
    â€œAnd chills. He really should have chills.” Bess steepled her hands and imagined. “He gives this big cocktail party, see. You know how he likes to flaunt his power and money in the faces of all the people he’s dumped on over the

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