Now You See Her Linda Howard(7)

"He doesn't want the divorce?"

Kai gave another graceful shrug. "Who knows what Richard wants? All I know is, he isn't being very conciliatory. Candra seems to have two moods these days: worried or infuriated."

Infuriated sounded like normal behavior during a divorce; worried didn't. "Maybe she's changed her mind and wants to back out of the divorce, but doesn't know how to smooth things over. "

"Oh, she didn't want it at all." His eyes sparkled with the glee of delivering juicy gossip. "From what I gather, Richard's the one who filed. Candra's putting a good face on things, acting as if the decision was mutual, but she isn't at all happy with the split. "

Abruptly Sweeney felt ashamed of herself, and irritated, too. Candra had supported her professionally, promoted her, steered clients her way. It went against her grain to gossip like this. If only gossip weren't so titillating. Sweeney tried to control an avid desire to know more, to dig for all the dirty details.

The temptation was great. Dirt was like fat; it made life more delicious.

She was saved from herself by the opening of Candra's office door. She turned and for a brief moment found herself looking directly into Richard Worth's eyes. It was like being touched with a cattle prod, an unwanted but electric connection. Then Candra appeared, her face pale with fury, gripping his arm and pulling him around as the door slammed shut again, closing out the sight and sound of marital disintegration.

"Uh-oh," Kai said with malicious satisfaction. "There's gonna be murder."




Chapter 2


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Sweeney was numb with shock. She wasn't certain what had just happened, but she knew something had. For a moment, just a split second, it had been as if she and Richard Worth were linked. She didn't like the sensation, didn't want that uncomfortable intimacy. She had always enjoyed her sense of being alone, envisioning herself as a ball that rolled through life, bumping into other lives but not stopping.

For a moment, just for a moment, the roll had been halted, and she didn't know why. He was only an acquaintance, little more than a stranger. There was no reason for him to look at her as if he knew her.

There was no reason for her to feel that funny jolt in her stomach, akin to the pleasure she had gotten from the Diet Coke commercial.

If this was another one of the weird changes that had been going on in her life for the past year, she didn't like this one any more than she did all the others. Damn it, she wanted things back the way they had been!

Before she could gather herself, the front doors opened behind her. Kai's face lit with the smile he reserved for buyers. To her surprise, he didn't seem to have noticed anything unusual. "Senator and Mrs. McMillan," he exclaimed, strolling toward them. "How nice to see you. May I get you anything?

Tea, coffee? Something stronger?"

Sweeney swung around as a tall, thin, impossibly stylish woman said, "Tea," in a languid tone that was almost drowned by her husband's stronger voice as he said, "Coffee, black." His tone was as forceful as hers had been die-away.

To her surprise, Sweeney recognized him. She was notoriously oblivious to current events, but even so, this face had been on television often enough that she knew who he was. If Kai had said "Senator McMillan" before, instead of "the McMillans," she would have known. Senator Carson McMillan had a charisma that had carried him from city government to the state house, and from there to Washington, where he was in his second term. He had money, charm, intelligence, and ambition—in short, the qualities expected to eventually carry him to the presidency.

She disliked him on sight.

Maybe it was the career politician's practiced suavity that put her off. It wasn't the ruthlessness she read in him; she understood ruthlessness, having her share of it when it came to clearing out the space and time for her painting. It could have been the hint of disdain that seeped through his charm like the occasional whiff of sewer gas coming from a drainage grate. He was the type of politician who secretly thought his constituents were either dim-witted or hayseeds, or both.

On the other hand, he was undeniably striking in looks: about six feet tall, with a certain beefiness through the chest and shoulders that nevertheless struck her as muscular rather than fat, and gave him the impression of power. His brown hair was still thick, and attractively grayed at the temples. His hair stylist did a good job with that. His eyes were a clear hazel, his facial structure strong and almost classical, though his jaw and chin were too pugnacious for true classic beauty.

She immediately knew she didn't want to paint his portrait. She didn't want to spend another minute in his presence. But still… what a challenge. Could she portray the essential good looks and still catch that expression of condescending superiority, like a transparent overlay? The expression was everything. Senator McMillan had learned, for the most part, to put on a congenial face for the benefit of the public. In this situation, with only Kai and herself as witnesses and with both of them in what he would consider a subservient position, the public face slipped a bit. Sweeney didn't doubt that if she had been dressed in designer clothes and expensive jewelry, rather than a simple skirt and sweater, the reaction she had gotten from him would have been something other than the glance that was both dismissive and insulting, lingering on her breasts as it did.