Irresistible Forces

Raquel and Jared were still in neutral corners. At least that was something.

'C'mon, Raquel, let's give these two some privacy.'

'I'm not sure that's wise,' Raquel said, her murderous gaze still on Jared. 'After all, Margo is still in mourning.'

Steph coughed and grabbed Raquel by the elbow. 'Hon, Nick was a really cool guy, but it's been two years. Life goes on.'

Raquel paused at the door and faced Margo. The glower she'd directed at Jared was gone. Now the expression in the redhead's mascara'd eyes could only be described as sad. Rejected? Get a grip, Margo.

'I see you kept the painting,' Raquel said quietly as she shifted her gaze from Margo to the painting in the entry-way.

Before Margo could ask the woman how she knew about the painting Nick had purchased while on their honeymoon, Steph had dragged Raquel Eastwood out the front door.

'That was… interesting,' Jared said.

'More than you can possibly imagine.' Margo turned slowly to find that he looked as bewildered as she felt. 'Yes, interesting is one way of putting it.' Crazy would've been more accurate. Had Raquel been here before? Ridiculous. After giving herself a mental shake, she grabbed her notebook and pencil again. 'Now, where were we?'

Jared touched her shoulder, gently turning her to face him. 'Don't you remember?' He took a step nearer, his warmth closing the short distance between them as he cupped her face in both hands and brushed his lips across hers.

Her knees quaked, and her heart pressed upward against her throat. She still wanted this man with the same intensity she had in college. He had the ability to reduce her to little more than crazed hormones with no effort at all. Problem was he seemed hell-bent on exerting a lot of effort.

She was in serious trouble.

'Jared…' A simple whisper shouldn't have ignited the flame in his eyes she saw now. He obviously knew her resistance to his charms was practically nonexistent. 'I… we can't do this.'

'Oh, I definitely can.' He exhaled very slowly, resting his forehead against hers. 'But I'm a gentleman. Remember?'

'Yes.' Margo swallowed hard, and wished more than a little that Jared Carson would forget he was a gentleman, and that she could stop feeling as if she were betraying her dead husband. 'Back to our interview.'

Margo sat in a chair across the room from Jared this time, and he took the couch. Alone. Better this way. Really.

'I can't tell you much about the life of an exotic dancer, since I'm really not one.' He held his hands palms up.

'Looks like a duck…'

'Cute.'

'I thought so.' She scribbled down a few comments.

'What are you writing? I haven't said anything yet.'

'Just that the subject seems ashamed of his chosen profession. Embarrassed.'

'You can say that again.'

'Once will suffice.' Warmed to her subject, Margo scribbled more notes.

'Just a thought…'

She looked up, trying to ignore how delicious he looked sitting on her couch. 'What?'

'Aren't you doing the real dancers a disservice?'

'How?'

'By putting my embarrassment in the article. Maybe some of these guys like this job.'

'Oh.' What had she been thinking? Very unprofessional — and very unlike her. 'You're right. I can't do it

'Don't want me to see you wiggle up there again?' She grinned but could tell he was serious. 'Jared, I have a job to do here.'

'Tell me what you want to know from the other dancers, and I'll ask them.'

She studied his expression, the worry in his intensely blue eyes, and almost surrendered. 'Look, as you pointed out, I've already almost blown this assignment.' She stood, tossing her notepad onto the coffee table. 'If I'm going to write this story, I'm going to do it right. That means interviewing a real dancer. Lakeview only has one Studfinder.'

He rolled his eyes heavenward and sighed. 'The real Margo Knutsen has returned.'

Stunned, she waited for him to meet her gaze again. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

His eyes softened. 'I didn't mean to insult you, but you haven't exactly been yourself.' One corner of his mouth quirked upward. 'Except for when I kissed you.'

Her cheeks flamed, and she cleared her throat. 'I… well… It's been hard. Losing Nick and all.'

'I know.' He sighed and walked around the coffee table. 'Come here.'

Margo hesitated, but she saw compassion in his eyes instead of lust. Between two beats of her heart, she found her head nestled beneath Jared's chin and his strong arms wrapped comfortably around her shoulders. He made no attempt to kiss her this time.

And that made her want him even more.

'I don't believe this.' Nick kicked off his high heels and put his feet on his desk. Who cared if the hem of his skirt slid all the way up to the crotch of his — God save him — panty hose? To make things even worse, this really had been his desk, once upon a time. 'Seamus, I just want to know one thing.' 'What is it this time, Nicholas?' 'Were you a sadist when you were still alive?' 'I know you don't mean that. You're just upset' 'Noooooo. What was your first clue?' Nick raked his slut-red fingernails through his hair. 'I told you I'd find her someone else.'

'Jared is Margo's destiny. It's not your place to—'

'Not my place?' Nick stood, wishing he had pockets to ram his fists into. Wishing his punching bag was still hanging in the corner. He'd draw Seamus's face on it and take out his frustrations. 'How thoughtful.' Nick scowled up at the ceiling, then closed his eyes, resignation coiling through him with all the ease of a rattlesnake. Margo's destiny, my ass. He clenched his fists, struggling against the urge to put his fist through the wall.

'Do you have any idea how it felt to—' He bit back what threatened to become a sob. Nick Riley didn't blubber, but as Raquel…

'It's hard, Nick. I knew it would be.'

'But you sent me here anyway, knowing he was the one?'

'Remember, this order came from higher up the chain of command.'

Nick barked a derisive laugh. 'So God really is that cruel?'

'You have to figure it all out for yourself Nick. Have you ever really loved anyone but yourself?'

'That's bull. I loved Margo. I married her, didn't I?'

'But you didn't love her the way a man loves the woman he's meant to spend his life with. Did you?'

'I… hell.' He punched his fist into the palm of his other hand. 'Just hell.'

'I think you're starting to see the truth, though you don't like it now.'

'Now? You think I'll ever like seeing Jared Carson manhandle my wife?'

'Widow. And what I think isn't important, but you will come to accept what must be. And perhaps you shouldn't carry your father's secret to your grave either. Maybe it's time to learn something about sacrifice.'

Nick dropped his gaze to the floor, scowling at the runner in the toe of his hose. A soggy tear landed on it, as if to punctuate this entire sordid mess.