was unconcerned about the consequences of a conviction. His lawyer had explained that there would be no jail time for a first offense, any fine would be a fly speck on his bank balance, and he had a chauffeur who would drive for him if the state took his license. Yes, there would be a conviction on his record, but that was a small sacrifice to make for love.
Taking the stand had given Blair a chance to talk to Carrie, though he had to admit that that was the weirdest first date he’d ever been on. Still, he’d seen the confusion on Carrie’s face when he’d opened his heart to her and told her that her opening statement had made him realize how dangerous his actions had been. Then he had looked deep into Carrie’s eyes and told her that he would not play games and was ready to pay the price for his actions. Carrie had not been able to hide her surprise at this unexpected turn of events, and Blair had been thrilled by what he perceived to be a successful first step in his campaign to win the prosecutor’s heart.
Blair had waited to ask Carrie out until after he fulfilled the conditions of his probation and paid his fine. He wanted Carrie to see he was serious about being a good citizen and a good person. Carrie had turned him down the first time he had asked her to dinner, but he pursued the young prosecutor with a vengeance and finally wore her down. It proved a Pyrrhic victory.
Everyone but Horace knew that he had been foolish to marry Carrie. The age difference was too great; and it was obvious that Carrie didn’t love him, and equally obvious that she was wedded to her career more than she was to him.
Horace had been married several times before. Those wives had been members of his country club set. They cooked for him, they went to social functions with him, and they kept his bed warm when he wanted sex. None of them worked. None of them wanted to work. Horace wanted a wife who would be there for him when he needed her. He realized his mistake in marrying Carrie when it dawned on him that she was rarely going to be where he wanted her to be if she was involved in a case. And she was always involved in a case.
It wasn’t as if Horace hadn’t been warned. Carrie had told him what was in store for him on the evening he proposed. But Horace was besotted, and he’d convinced himself that he could bring Carrie around. He had tried to convince Carrie to leave the commonwealth attorney’s office. He had explained that there was no reason for her to put in long hours at a government job when he was so wealthy that she could do anything else she wanted to do. But prosecuting criminals was the only thing Carrie wanted to do.
On Wednesday morning, Blair sipped his juice and tried to enjoy the view, but he could not relax because thoughts of the prenup kept intruding. It had been Jack Pratt’s idea. At first, Horace had rejected his corporate lawyer’s suggestion, but he caved when Pratt reminded him that his first wife had taken him to the cleaners because he did not have a prenuptial agreement and that his prenups with numbers two and three had saved him.
If Horace thought that Carrie would sign the prenup without a fight she quickly disabused him of this idea. Carrie was not like his other wives. She had graduated near the top of her class at Georgetown’s law school and was just as smart as Pratt. She had agreed to sign the prenup only if it included a guarantee that she would receive twenty million dollars at the end of the first ten years of their marriage if she did not divorce Horace or sleep with another man. Horace had agreed but had added the condition that she would lose everything if she revealed the details of the agreement.
Horace was trying to distract himself from thinking about the prenup by reading a business article when his houseman interrupted him.
“There’s a detective at the front door who wishes to speak to you.”
Blair frowned. “What does he want?”
“It’s a woman, a Detective Stephanie Robb. She says it’s about Mrs. Blair.”
“What about Carrie?”
“She wouldn’t tell me.”
“Very well. Show her in.”
Everything about Stephanie Robb was square and thick. Her short-cut dirty-blond