“What the hell are you talking about?” Reed drew back, moving away from her, a wounded look in his eyes—eyes that only moments ago had been gazing at her so tenderly.

She realized instantly that he was innocent, that he honestly didn’t know anything about the deaths of her father’s beloved dogs. “Reed, I—”

He shot up off the bed, gloriously naked. “Don’t bother.” He snapped the words. “I take it that somebody killed Webb Porter’s hunting dogs, and of course, I’m the number one suspect.” He glared at her. “Is that why you came here—to accuse me? What happened, honey, did you get a little sidetracked by your lust for my body?”

“Don’t do this. Please, let’s don’t say things that we’ll regret later.” She started to rise from the bed, but became acutely aware of her nudity. What the hell? He’d not only seen every inch of her, he was personally acquainted with the territory. She crawled out of bed, stark naked.

Reed’s facial muscles tightened, giving him the look of a dangerous predator. “Lady, the only thing I regret is screwing you twice.”

She couldn’t endure his cold, unemotional stare. The man who knew her body better than she knew it herself had instantly become a stranger—a frightening stranger.

“I’m sorry.” She reached over and laid her hand on his chest.

He jerked away from her. “Not as a sorry as you will be if you come up pregnant.” His sudden smile mocked her. “I didn’t use a condom again tonight, Miss Ella. Now, wouldn’t that be something if I knocked you up?”

“Go ahead and lash out at me,” she told him. “If it makes you feel any better. I suppose I deserve it. But I just wish you’d listen to me. I’m sorry I asked about Daddy’s hunting dogs.” Her fingers itched to touch him, to grab him and pull him to her. But she didn’t dare touch him. Fury radiated from him. Strong and deadly. “I realize now that when I decided to come here tonight I told myself I needed to know the truth, that I had to come here and confront you personally about the dogs. But that was just a lie I told myself. The truth is…the truth is—”

“You want to know what the truth is?” He grabbed her upper arms, his fingers pressing hard enough to hurt. When she winced, he instantly loosened his hold. “The honest to God truth is that I did not kill Junior Blalock. I haven’t written you any letters or made any threatening phone calls or sent you flowers with green snakes. And I sure as hell didn’t kill Webb’s hunting dogs.”

“I believe you. And I’m sorry I asked about the dogs. It’s just that I loved Beau and Stonewall and Lee, and I needed to be sure that the man I…that you hadn’t poisoned them.”

“God damn it, I’d never hurt innocent animals.”

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. She nodded. “Someone did. Someone poisoned those wonderful dogs. Daddy and I raised them from puppies.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “I loved them almost as much as Daddy did. Stonewall was the runt of his mama’s litter and I bottle-fed him.” Ella swallowed her tears.

Reed stared at her. She could barely see the blurry outline of his body through her tears. When he touched her, she jumped.

“Don’t cry, babe.”

“Reed…”

He encompassed her in his embrace, his strong arms comforting her. She loved the feel of him, the power of his big body. While she wept against his chest, he cradled her buttocks and lifted her upward until they touched intimately.

“I’m an insensitive asshole,” Reed said. “About those things I said a couple of minutes ago—”

She kissed him, then pulled back and smiled at him, her face damp with tears. “You were trying to hurt me because I had hurt you. I understand.”

He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her chin, then licked the teardrops from her eyelashes. “I don’t want to hurt you. Not ever. What I want is to protect you from anything and anyone who would harm you. Looks like I’d better start with myself.”

“I don’t want to hurt you either,” she said. “If you’ll let me, I’ll help you find out who really killed Junior Blalock. Will you let me help you?”

He grinned, but this time there was no anger or sarcasm associated with the smile. “Your folks aren’t going to like the idea of their little girl getting involved with a man like me.”

“I’m not a little girl.” She rubbed herself against him. “I’m a woman.”

“You sure are,” Reed agreed.

His penis swelled to life between them. Ella sighed, loving the feel of him. When he took her hand and led her toward the bed, she hesitated when she noticed the time glowing brightly on the small digital alarm clock sitting on the floor beside the bed. It would be daylight soon. She had spent the night with Reed.

“I should go home,” she told him.

“Want to sneak in before anyone realizes you’ve been gone all night?”

“Can you understand?”

“Yeah, I can understand,” he said. “Just tell me something, Ella. Are you ashamed that you spent the night with me.”

“No!”

“But you wouldn’t want the whole town to know, would you?”

She sighed. He had her dead to rights. No, she didn’t want people to know about her involvement with Reed. “I’m sorry, but—”

“You’re a Porter, a circuit court judge and a lady.” He poked her shoulder repeatedly, inching her backward until he toppled her onto the bed. “You can stay another thirty minutes, can’t you?”

“Yes.”

Her compliance signaled Reed to take action. Within seconds he had joined her on the bed, lifted her up to straddle him, and impaled her with his stiff sex.

“Come on, babe, one last wild ride for the road.”

Ella unlocked the back door, then moved through the kitchen as quietly as possible, hoping she wouldn’t awaken anyone. Bessie never arrived before six o’clock, and there was no reason why the rest of the household wouldn’t still be asleep. As she headed upward, the back stairs creaked slightly, the whine echoing in the stillness of the dawn hour. When she reached the top of the stairs, she sighed. Just a short walk down the hall to her room and she was home free. No one need ever know that she’d stayed out all night.

Her hand hovered on the crystal doorknob to her bedroom door, but before she grasped it, she heard footsteps behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw her father coming toward her. Uh-oh! She knew how she looked—as if she’d spent the night making mad, passionate love. Wrinkled. Mussed. Tired. Sated. And if she could smell sex on herself, then her father would, too. Her heart sank. She supposed she could lie to him and tell him she’d been with Dan, but her father would know better. And she’d never lied to her father, not once in her entire life. She wasn’t about to start now.

“You look like hell,” Webb said.

“I’m a grown woman, and if choose to stay out all night, it’s nobody’s business,” she told him.

“Agreed.” His gaze traveled over her. “You’d better get a shower and change clothes. You wouldn’t want your mother to see you looking like that.”

Ella nodded, relief flooding through her. “Thanks, Daddy. For not asking any questions.”

“None of my business, remember?” But there was no warm smile, no twinkle of devilment in his eyes.

“You know, don’t you?” The sudden realization that her father was probably aware of where she’d spent the night, and with whom, unnerved her.

“Is it more than sex?” he asked.

Ella swallowed. “I honestly don’t know.”

“I don’t approve.”

“I know.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game with a dangerous man. You could get hurt. I can’t let that happen.”

“Daddy, please—”

“Take your shower.”

“We’ll talk later, okay?”

He nodded, then turned and went back to his room. Ella opened the door and went straight through to the bathroom. As she stripped off her clothes, she encountered the strong scent of Reed Conway, as if it were embedded in her skin. She tossed her dress and panties in the laundry hamper, turned on the shower, and stepped under the lukewarm spray. As she began to scrub her body, she recalled the feel of Reed’s hands, the touch of his mouth and tongue, the power of having him deep inside her.

“Is it more than sex?” her father had asked.

She didn’t want it to be more. If it were only sex between Reed and her, it would simplify this untenable predicament she was in. But if she were totally honest with herself, she would have to admit that she truly feared that it was more than sex. Much more. Heaven help her.

Judy Conway sat at her kitchen table, a cup of strong coffee in her hand. She hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours all night. Even though she trusted Mark Leamon and knew he would never do anything to hurt Regina, Judy couldn’t help wondering what had happened between Regina and her boss last night. Her daughter had been upset and angry when she’d run away from the Carlisle house yesterday. And Regina had every right to be outraged at seeing her mother sharing a passionate kiss with a married man.

What could she say to Regina? How could she ever explain without being totally honest? She had sworn to herself that she would never reveal the identity of Regina’s father to anyone, not even Regina herself. Too many lives could be destroyed if the truth ever came out. Poor Carolyn Porter would be devastated. And Webb’s political career would be ruined.

When Judy heard two cars drive up outside, she set her cup on the table, jumped to her feet, and raced to the door. Glancing through the glass panes in the kitchen door, she watched Mark get out of his car and rush to open the driver’s door of Regina’s Honda. Then he took Regina’s hand in his. The two of them looked into each other’s eyes, exchanging a lovers’ glance. Suddenly Judy felt like a voyeur, inappropriately glimpsing a very private moment. She opened the door, walked out onto the back porch, and waited as the couple approached.

“Good morning,” Judy said, trying to make her voice sound cheerful.

“Good morning,” Mark replied.

Judy noted that he still held Regina’s hand and couldn’t help wondering if Regina held on to him so tightly because she felt that Mark was her lifeline. “I’ve got coffee. And if y’all are hungry, I can fix breakfast.”

“Thanks, but we’ve already eaten,” Mark told her as he and Regina stepped up on the porch. “I made my specialty—ham-and-cheese omelets.”

Judy tried to avoid eye contact with her daughter, afraid of what she might see in her child’s eyes. Hatred? Condemnation? But as Judy allowed her gaze to casually glimpse Regina, she became even more convinced that something of a sexual nature had transpired between Regina and Mark. Her daughter’s suit was wrinkled, her hair slightly untidy, and her face devoid of makeup.

“I think you should know that I didn’t want to come home this morning,” Regina finally said. “But Mark convinced me that I should give you a chance to explain what I saw at the Carlisle house yesterday.”

When Judy exchanged a glance with Mark, she saw sympathy in his eyes. “Thank you, Mark. I appreciate your being there for Regina last night. I knew you’d take care of her.”

“I think you should know that I love Regina,” Mark said.

“And I love him, too,” Regina informed her mother.

“I couldn’t be happier for both of you.” Judy longed to put her arms around her child, to hug her and kiss her. She, better than anyone, knew how much Regina longed to love and be loved, to be capable of a normal relationship with a man. Had Mark and Regina made love last night? Judy wondered. Was the dark, damaging sexual fear buried deep in her daughter’s soul now vanquished?

“Judy, I think this morning would be a good time to explain everything to Regina,” Mark said.

“Yes, you’re right. Come on inside.” The couple followed her into the kitchen. She took a deep breath. “I’m not a promiscuous woman. I’ve had sex outside of marriage with only one man”—she glanced meaningfully at Regina—“with your father, whom I loved with all my heart.”

Regina opened her mouth to speak, but Judy spoke first. “I made a vow to never reveal his identity, and I intend to keep that vow. I’m sorry. But I can tell you this about what you saw yesterday. I’m not having an affair with Webb Porter. He and I dated years ago, when I was in high school. When his family disapproved of him dating a girl from the wrong side of town, we broke up and I married Reed’s father, and later on Webb married Carolyn. But we’ve always had…feelings for each other. I’m afraid that yesterday, we let those feelings get out of hand.”

“But why, Mama?” Regina asked. “I don’t understand. How could you care about the man who prosecuted Reed, the man most responsible for my brother having to spend fifteen years in prison?”

“I don’t know exactly how it happened,” Judy admitted. “One minute Webb and I were talking, and the next thing I knew…It was a terrible mistake, and I am so very sorry that you saw what happened.”

“I don’t know if I believe you or not,” Regina said. “I’ve spent my entire life defending you—to myself and anyone who dared say anything against you. I want to believe that my father was your one and only illicit lover, that you haven’t been with countless men. That you aren’t the whore Junior told me you were the night he tried to rape me.”

“Oh, Regina.” Emotion lodged in Judy’s throat, almost choking her. The pain of knowing that she had brought Junior Blalock into their lives, that she had allowed herself to be seduced by his good looks and boyish charm, made her sick to her stomach. She had unleashed a monster on her children, and to this day, both Reed and Regina were paying for her monumental mistake.

“I knew he was lying. I knew when he said that I’d turn out to be a whore just like my mama that he had to be lying.” Regina turned to Mark, who opened his arms to her.

Tears welled up in Judy’s eyes. “Junior Blalock was a mean, worthless piece of trash who nearly destroyed us. I didn’t have the courage to leave him because I was terribly afraid of him. I’d give my life if I could go back and undo the things he did. If I had it to do over again, I wouldn’t have married him.”

Regina glanced up from where she had her face buried against Mark’s chest. She sobbed softly, then eased out of Mark’s embrace and went to her mother, stopping when only inches separated their bodies.

“I’m not a whore,” Judy said. “I’ve been with only three men in my entire life. Reed’s father, who was my first husband. Your father, whom I loved. And Junior.” At the mention of her former husband’s name, a cold numbness set in deep within Judy.

“Is Webb Porter my father?” Regina asked.

Judy couldn’t breathe. She thought that perhaps her heart had stopped beating. It was as if a two-ton weight sat squarely on her chest. She couldn’t speak.

“Does he know?” Regina asked. “Has he always known?”

Webb Porter parked his Mercedes in front of Conway’s Garage. He assumed that Reed would be at work. After all, it was shortly after nine, and Webb assumed that most service stations and garages opened early. He’d been forced to sit through breakfast with a chattering Carolyn, still griping about the ransacked condition of the house and the fact that Reed Conway didn’t deserve to be walking the streets a free man. Ella had been her usual sweet, dignified self, but all the while she chatted with her mother, smiling warmly and agreeing with whatever Carolyn said, Webb had been tormented by the fact that his daughter had all but confessed to him that she’d spent the night with Reed.

The six gas pumps at the garage held three customers filling up their tanks this morning. The two men and the woman standing by their vehicles waved, nodded, and spoke to Webb. He vaguely recognized the woman, had known one of the men all his life, and knew the other man, too, even though he couldn’t recall his name. Of course, all three knew who he was—the curse of being a local politician.

Webb headed toward the garage. As he drew nearer, he saw Reed behind the counter at the cash register, waiting on another customer. Webb entered the building. Reed glanced over at him, no emotion showing on his face; then he returned his attention to the customer, Waylan McGuire, who owned the only pawn shop in Spring Creek.

“Morning, Senator,” Waylan said. “Already hot and humid out there, isn’t it? Going to be another scorcher.”

“Seems that way,” Webb agreed.

Reed handed Waylan change from two twenties. “Come back and see us, Mr. McGuire.”

The minute Waylan closed the glass door behind him, Reed shut the cash register and met Webb’s glare head-on. “What can I do for you this morning, Senator?”

You can stop screwing my daughter, that’s what you can do.

“You can stay the hell away from my family,” Webb said, just barely controlling his rage.

Reed came out from behind the counter and walked right up to Webb, totally unafraid. Webb wasn’t used to that. He was the type of man who normally put the fear of God into other men. But not Reed Conway. Not now. Not fifteen years ago when Reed had been an eighteen-year-old. And not even when Reed had been just a kid, warning Webb to stay away from Judy. Was having an affair with Ella Reed’s way of exacting revenge for more than just Webb having prosecuted him for Junior’s murder? Was Reed telling him that if Webb could screw around with his mother, then he could screw around with Webb’s daughter?

“You need to be more specific,” Reed said.

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I’m warning you to stay away from Ella.”

“I’d say that’s up to Ella.”

Webb grabbed Reed’s arm, clamping his hand over Reed’s biceps. “You stay away from her or I’ll make you sorry you’re not back in Donaldson. I protect what’s mine. Do I make myself clear?”

“Something we have in common, Senator. I protect what’s mine, too. And as of last night, your daughter falls into that category.”

Webb swung at Reed, his fist just barely connecting with Reed’s body because Reed had seen the blow coming and sidestepped to avoid a direct hit. Reeling slightly backward, Reed glared at Webb. He rubbed his bruised jaw.

“I won’t beat the hell out of you, you son of a bitch, no matter how much satisfaction it would give me,” Reed said. “I won’t even hit you. Because you’re Ella’s father.”

Webb stared at Reed Conway, not sure what to think of this man. Hearing a sound from behind him, Webb glanced over his shoulder and realized that they had an audience. One man stood in the open doorway. The other man and woman stood outside, looking in through the glass storefront. Outside, two other customers watched.

Mustering up as much dignity as possible, Webb turned and faced the small crowd. He nodded to each as he passed them, but didn’t bother honoring them with his politician’s smile. Once he sat down behind the wheel of his Mercedes, he took a deep, tortured breath and asked himself for the first time in many years if it were possible he’d been wrong about Reed Conway. Wrong in believing he had killed Junior Blalock fifteen years ago. Wrong in assuming that the man didn’t care anything about Ella and was only using her.