BEVERLY BARTON - The Black Widow

“Don’t interfere, Jordan,” Wes said. “I’m going to beat the crap out of him, so help me God. After I finish with him, he’ll think twice before he touches Kendra or any other girl young enough to be his daughter.”

“Oh, for goodness sake, Wes, all he did was kiss me,” Kendra shouted. “And I didn’t try to stop him!”

Jordan glowered at J.C. “Leave. Now. Go home and stay there. We’ll talk later.”

J.C. wiped the blood from his mouth. He smirked at Jordan. “Just keep the kid away from me.” He glanced at Kendra. “Hell, keep both of those brats away from me.”

When he started to walk off, Wes lurched for him, but Jordan grabbed Wes by the shoulders and shook him. J.C. meandered away, around the house, whistling to himself. Wes threw off Jordan’s hold, obviously intending to go after J.C.

In his peripheral vision, Rick noted that the entire house-hold had come out on the veranda—Roselynne, Darlene, Rene, Devon and both servants—just as Wes shoved Jordan’s hands off his shoulders. Rick realized that Wes had pushed Jordan harder than he’d intended and she was falling backward. Only when Rick dashed straight to her and caught her just before she hit the ground did Wes realize what he’d done. That realization stopped him cold.

“Oh, God, Jordan, I’m sorry,” Wes said.

Rick swooped a dazed Jordan up in his arms, something primeval inside him wanting to protect her, needing to keep her safe from this swarm of vultures hovering around her.

Jordan grabbed hold of Rick by instinctively throwing her arm around his neck. Momentarily stunned by what had happened, she stared into his eyes. Their gazes connected and instantly locked. Knowing she had to remove herself from such intimate contact with this man, she inhaled and exhaled a deep, steadying breath before saying, “Please, put me down.”

Rick hesitated for a split second, then eased her onto her feet.

“Thank you,” she mouthed the words quietly.

He didn’t get a chance to say anything before the adoring Jordan Price tribe swarmed around her, each person professing their concern. But Devon Markham cut through the other groupies and all but pushed Rick aside.

“Are you okay?” Devon asked, genuine worry marring his handsome features.

“I’m fine.” She patted him on the arm and then turned to the others. “The show’s over. Everything is going to be fine. Please, all of you, go back inside.”

Tobias and Vadonna returned to the house immediately, while no one else hurried back inside; instead they began mumbling among themselves.

“Wait up, Wes,” Jordan called to her stepson. “We need to talk.” She looked from Wes to his sister. “You, too, Kendra. Both of you go sit down. I’ll be there in a minute.” She turned to Rick. “Please, go eat breakfast and get your day started. I have to do my job as their stepmother and sort things out with them before I send them both back to school.”

“I don’t mean to interfere, but shouldn’t you confront your stepbrother about making advances to a teenager first?”

Jordan grimaced. “No, the children first. I’ll deal with J.C. later.”

Rick nodded, then left her to handle the family situation on her own. She squared her shoulders and walked across the lawn, up the steps and onto the veranda. Wes sat in one of the big wicker chairs, his legs spread, his shoulders and head drooped, and his hands clutched together between his knees. Kendra paced back and forth. Pausing when Jordan approached, she looked at her in a wide-eyed, pleading manner.

“Wes overreacted to something that was none of his business in the first place,” Kendra said.

Pointing her index finger in Kendra’s face, Jordan gave her a stern, disapproving, maternal glare. “J.C. kissed you, right?”

“Yes.”

“Did anything else happen?”

“No.”

“Has he kissed you before?”

“Once.”

“Kendra Diane Brannon, you are eighteen years old. J.C. is thirty-six. Do the math. He’s twice your age and has had five times more experience. He is a sweet-talking womanizer who uses and discards women as if they were Kleenex.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Jordan said. “Whatever he’s said to you, whatever you think you feel for him, forget it.”

“You’re not being fair,” Kendra whined, reminding Jordan of just how immature her stepdaughter was.

Maybe it was her fault that Kendra still saw the world through rose-colored glasses, but she had so wanted to protect her from life’s harsh realities as long as possible. When Jordan had married Boyd, Kendra had been a shy, starved-for-motherly-affection little girl of ten, the same age Jordan had been when she’d lost her own mother. She had reached out to Kendra immediately, offering her the love and attention she had so desperately needed.

“I’m being sensible. I am protecting you because I love you. And in case you have any doubts, let me spell this out for you. This subject is closed. After breakfast, I want you to go upstairs and pack your bags. You’re going back to university today instead of this weekend.”

“Oh, Jordan, do I have to…” Kendra stopped mid-sentence, heaved a deep, overly dramatic sigh and said, “Okay, I’ll go.”

“You know I’m doing what I believe is best for you under the circumstances.”

“Yes, ma’am. I know.”

“Go on inside. I need to talk to Wes. Alone.”

As soon as Kendra left, Jordan turned to Wesley. He wouldn’t look at her. Instead, he stared at the floor. Even though he was now a young man of twenty, broad shouldered and six feet tall, she would always see him as he’d been when she first married Boyd, a hostile twelve-year-old who was determined to hate his new stepmother. It had taken her a year of hard work to win him over and make him realize that she didn’t expect to take his mother’s place, that she wanted her own place in his life and his heart.

“Look at me, Wes.”

He hazarded a quick glance up at her.

“You should have come to me when you saw J.C. kiss Kendra and let me handle the problem. All you achieved by physically attacking J.C. was to bruise and bloody both of you and create a hullabaloo within the family.”

“Yeah, well, it did more than that,” Wes told her. “It made me feel damn good to hit him.”

Barely managing not to smile, Jordan laid her hand on Wes’s shoulder. “I suppose it did. There have been a few times when I’ve wanted to knock some sense into J.C.”

“I don’t see how you can stand having that sleazeball around. He’s worthless and everybody knows it. Even Devon, who likes just about everybody, has no use for J.C.”

“J.C. is my stepbrother. He’s family.”

“Have you considered the possibility that he killed Dan?”

The question genuinely startled Jordan. “No, I haven’t because despite all of J.C.’s faults, he’s not capable of murder.”

“Yeah, he is,” Wes said. “Everyone is. He kept hitting up Dan for money and when Dan didn’t come through the last time, J.C. got really pissed. What if he thought by killing Dan, you’d inherit and—”

“J.C. did not kill Dan. We don’t even know for sure that Dan was murdered.”

Wes shrugged. “Just don’t trust him, okay? You’re too smart for that, but at the same time, you’ve got a really soft spot when it comes to taking care of friends and family.” Wes rose to his feet. “Please, be careful around him.”

“I appreciate your concern.”

“I’ll go pack, too.” Wes grinned. “I figure you’ll want me to leave when Kendra does.”

Jordan slipped her arm around her stepson’s waist. “It’s for your own good. You two have missed more than enough school this semester and I know y’all stayed on because you’re concerned about me. Don’t be. I’m going to be all right. Devon’s here, as is Roselynne and Darlene, not to mention Rene.”