Command Performance by Nora Roberts Read Free Book Online Page A

didn’t understand and more she would have liked to close her eyes on. But she knew that burying one’s head in the sand did nothing but put grit in one’s eyes. “No, you’re right, of course.”
    “Seward leaves a wife and three children.”
    “Oh, how awful. Have they been told?”
    “I have to go tell them now.”
    “Can I help? I could go with you.”
    “It’s not your affair.”
    Eve retreated, calling herself a fool for being hurt. When he rose, she stared down into her coffee and said nothing.
    Why had he come here? Alexander asked himself. He’d needed to tell her, to share his frustration, his anger, his grief. It wasn’t wise for a man who had to rule to need comfort, a soft word, a hand to hold. He’d been taught to rely on himself, yet he’d come to her. And he still needed.
    “Eve.” It wasn’t easy for him. She couldn’t know that a simple request set off a violent tug-of-war inside him. “It would help if you went with me. I think she could use a woman.”
    “I’ll get my purse,” was all she said.
    * * *
    The Sewards lived in a pretty pink stucco house with a small, neat lawn bordered by white flowers. Eve saw a red bike in the drive. It was that more than anything that clutched at her heart. She knew what it was like to lose a parent, and that the hurt and grief never completely healed over.
    Alexander offered his hand after he stepped from the car. Eve accepted it, then let hers remain there.
    “If you’re uncomfortable—”
    “No. No, only sad.” She walked with him to the door, aware that the driver watched them, but unaware that members of the security staff were stationed up and down the quiet street.
    Alena Seward opened the door herself. She was a dark, plump woman of early middle age with lovely eyes and mussed hair. It was obvious they had caught her in the middle of cleaning. Her mouth dropped open the moment she saw Alexander, but she recovered quickly.
    “Your Highness.”
    “Madame Seward, I apologize for coming to your home unexpectedly. May we come in?”
    “Of course.” Eve saw her eyes shift to the furniture that had yet to be dusted, to toys that had yet to be tidied. “May I offer you coffee, Your Highness?”
    “No, thank you. May I present Miss Eve Hamilton.”
    “How do you do?” The woman offered a hand. “Please sit down.”
    Alexander took a chair, knowing the woman would remain standing if he did. “Madame Seward, there was news from Paris this morning.”
    Seated beside Alena on the sofa, Eve felt the other woman tense. “Yes, Your Highness.”
    “Two bombs were planted at our embassy. One detonated before it was discovered.” He knew from experience that bad news, the worst news, was best given quickly. “Your husband was killed.”
    “Maurice?” Her fingers tightened on Eve’s hand, though she was unaware that it had been offered. “Dead?”
    “He was killed instantly,
madame.
My father sends his grief and his condolences, and I and the rest of my family give ours.”
    “There is a mistake?” There were no tears, but the fingers around Eve’s hand were like clamps.
    He hated the helplessness more than anything else. He could give her no hope, and sympathy was such an empty gift. “No,
madame.
He was alone in the office when it exploded.”
    “Brandy.” Eve forced Alena’s attention to her. “Madame Seward, where is your brandy?”
    “Brandy?” Her voice was as blank as her eyes. “There is brandy in the kitchen.”
    Eve only looked at Alexander. He rose and went to find it himself.
    “But I spoke to him just yesterday,” Alena murmured. “He was well—tired. The meetings drag on so long. He’d bought a little jeweled pin for our daughter. Her birthday is next month.” On this her voice began to quiver. “There’s a mistake.
Mademoiselle?
”
    Then the tears came. Eve did the only thing she knew how. She held. When Alexander entered the room again Eve had the widow’s head on her breast. Her own eyes were