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By the expression on his face, she knew she wouldn’t be able to afford him. “How much, Key?”
“One hundred grand.” At her shocked expression, he added, “Payable the day before we leave.”
“That would be almost every cent I’ve got.”
He shrugged. “Tough luck. Guess we won’t have to get shots after all. I’m glad. Hate needles.”
Once again he tried to go past her. This time she blocked his path and placed her
hands on his arms. “I really hate that. I think you know how much I hate it or you wouldn’t do it.”
“Do what?”
“Act cavalier. Talk down to me. Damn you! I won’t let you joke about this. You know how important it is to me.”
Using her restraining hands to his advantage, he moved forward until he’d backed her into an army-surplus file cabinet. “Just how important is it to you?”
“Extremely. Otherwise do you think I would have asked a Tackett—any Tackett—for a favor?”
The pressure of his body against hers was exciting. So were his smoldering eyes. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that. She kept her chin defiantly high, her gaze steady.
“You could even go so far as to say that I’m your last resort, couldn’t you, Lara?”
“You’re the reason I came to Eden Pass.” The statement took him aback, as she had guessed it would. “Clark handed me a golden opportunity to reestablish a medical practice, but I would have turned it down if not for you. I wanted to meet his daredevil brother, the one who could ‘fly anytime, anywhere,’ to quote you.
“I knew you were away most of the time, but I also knew you’d return sooner or later. I resolved to get you to take me to Montesangre, one way or another. In a very real sense, yes, you’re my last resort.”
He had listened with rapt attention, obviously stunned by her admission. He recovered quickly. A slow grin spread across his mouth. “So I can name my price, right?”
“You already have. One hundred thousand dollars.”
He reached out and idly stroked her cheek. “Which I’d be willing to waive in exchange for fucking you.”
Her hand flew up to bat his away from her face, but instead she gripped his wrist, closing her fingers tightly around it as far as they would reach. “I should have known you would turn this into something ugly. I tried to appeal to your decency, but you have none. You feel no sense of responsibility to anyone except yourself.”
“Now you’re catching on, Doc,” he whispered. “You can’t imagine how liberating it is to be completely free from obligation.”
“Free from obligation? Your brother is partially responsible for Ashley’s death. Out of all us sinners, my daughter was the only blameless victim of the whole mess. I hold Clark accountable. Just as I hold myself responsible.”
She dropped her hand from his wrist. “Where Ashley’s concerned I have no pride. I won’t ever see her turn a cartwheel, or hear her run scales on a piano, or kiss her skinned knees, or listen to her bedtime prayers. I want only what I can have, and that’s to see her buried in American soil. If sleeping with you is the only way I can accomplish that, then it’s a small price to pay.”
The passionate glow in his eyes cooled to a cynical frostiness. He backed away, but in slow degrees, so that it seemed to take forever before they were no longer touching.
“As you said, Doc, I have no sense of decency. I’d help an old lady across the street if a Mack truck were bearing down on her, but that’s about as noble as I get. I’m not my brother in any way, shape, or form. I left all the good deeds to him. Curious as I am to know what made your snatch so irresistible to him, I’ll pass.”
As he moved through the door, he called over his shoulder, “Lock up on your way out, will ya?”
“You’re late.”
“I know.”
“We didn’t hold supper.”
“I’m not hungry anyway.”
Key and Jody exchanged words like gunfire. He went straight to the sideboard and poured himself a stiff drink.
“We’re having black-eyed peas and ham, Key,” Janellen said. “You love black-eyed peas. Please sit down and let me fill you a plate.”
