Passion's Price

He stroked her arm. “Sure you would have. You were mine from the day you were born.”

Darlene rimmed her lips with the tip of her tongue, looked at his mouth and then slowly raised her gaze to meet his. “Oh, really?” she said seductively, all the while moving her mouth closer to his. “I never said I was yours.”

He pulled her into his arms. “You didn’t have to. Actions speak louder than words ever will.”

Before she knew it, his hands were all over her while his magic tongue danced in and out of her mouth, giving her a preview of what she was to receive in the moments to follow. She wrapped her arms around the broadness of his body and held on tight.

“Tell me what you want.” He stared into her eyes as his fingers teased the flesh of her bare arms, and every place he touched seemed to explode into a blaze. “Tell me.”

“I…I want you.”

GWYNNE FORSTER

is a national bestselling author of forty-three works of fiction, thirty-four romance novels and nine mainstream novels, including her latest, When The Sun Goes Down. She has won numerous awards for fiction writing, including a Gold Pen Award, a RT Book Reviews Lifetime Achievement Award, and has been inducted in the Affaire de Coeur Hall of Fame. A demographer by profession, she was formerly a senior officer for the United Nations, where she was chief officer in charge of research in fertility and family planning studies. Gwynne is author of twenty-seven publications in demography. She holds a bachelor’s and a master’s degree in sociology and a master’s degree in economics/demography. As an officer, first for United Nations and later for the International Planned Parenthood Federation in London, England, Gwynne has traveled and/or worked in sixty-three countries. She lives in New York with her husband, who is her true soul mate.

Passion’s Price

Gwynne Forster

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

My sincere thanks to my son (my stepson), Peter Forster Acsadi, who is one of my models for what a man should be. He is an accomplished electronic engineer, and I save my computer and other electronic problems for his attention. A professionally serious, good-natured, witty and handsome man with a laugh that is nothing short of uplifting, he is always there for his parents. With a husband who designs and produces my brochures and answers my panic calls when my software is uncooperative, I enjoy strong family support. I AM BLESSED TO HAVE BOTH OF THEM. As always, I thank God for my talent and for the opportunities to use it.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 1

When attorney Darlene Cunningham made up her mind, she rarely ever changed it. And that had created some problems for her and her family. As the youngest partner at Myrtle, Coppersmith & Cunningham LLP, Darlene usually got the least promising and least interesting cases assigned in the three-person law firm.

But her job as a defense attorney meant everything to her. Even the smallest detail of the most mundane case got her professional juices flowing. Take for instance her current case. She had to force herself not to get too excited about it. There was something suspicious about her client. Something wasn’t right about the burglary case, and it was driving her crazy.

And then a witness had come forward and volunteered to testify on her client’s behalf. It all seemed too convenient, she thought. It just didn’t add up, and Darlene was determined to find out why.

That’s why Darlene had decided to fly down to Memphis and reinterview the witness. Though her partners didn’t think it was worthwhile for Darlene to travel all that way just to nail down the facts in the case, Darlene disagreed.

And so here she was in Memphis, trying to locate the alibi witness, the only witness who could testify that her client, Albert Frank, was somewhere else at the time the crime took place. A very convenient witness who had very inconveniently vanished without a trace.

Darlene landed at Memphis International Airport, exhausted after having transferred twice on the trip from Baltimore. Having refused the peanuts and pretzels offered on the plane, she was hungry and a bit on edge. She’d never been to Memphis before, and the intensity of the heat and humidity surprised her, adding to her discomfort.

She checked into the famous Peabody Hotel—known for its duck march through the lobby—and called room service for a pulled-pork sandwich and iced tea. She unpacked while she waited for her food to arrive. After she’d eaten, Darlene once again tried to contact Frank’s alibi witness at the number she’d been given. To her disappointment, she got no answer, not even voice mail.

With no word from her witness, she struck out the next morning to check on her client’s story about where the witness lived. She took a cab to the address he’d given her in an upscale neighborhood in a cul-de-sac bordering Memphis and Collerville. She would have expected just about any neighborhood other than the quiet, pristine homes that screamed old-money wealth and power. Less sure of herself now, she knocked on the door, since she had not seen a doorbell.

“Come in,” a slender gray-haired man in a black suit, white shirt and black tie said with a gracious smile. “Not many people come here these days.” He spoke haltingly, and she decided that he was part of the household staff, a fair assumption given the neighborhood. “Have a seat,” the man said as he gestured toward what she discovered was an elegant living room.

“Thank you. This heat is almost unbearable,” Darlene said to fill the awkward silence. She used a tissue to wipe her forehead.

“Yes, it is,” the man said. “Would you care for some sweetened iced tea? I made it a few minutes ago. If you’re uncomfortable, I can turn up the air conditioner.”

She leaned against the back of a tufted velvet chair and looked at the man. “Thank you, but I don’t care for tea, and the air-conditioning is fine. This is a beautiful house, but it must be very old. No one seems to build these kinds of houses anymore.” Small talk was something she hated, but she had to engage the man in conversation if she was to learn anything about her client.

“Yes, it’s old, all right. My grandfather built it. But I renovated it from roof to cellar about twenty-five years ago. Sure you wouldn’t like some tea or iced coffee?”

“No thank you. I was given this address and was told a young man, an alibi witness, lived here. But I see I was wrong, so I’d better be going,” Darlene said, somewhat surprised that the old man lived in the home. “Thanks for your hospitality.”

“I wish you wouldn’t go,” he said as she reached for the doorknob. “I’ve enjoyed your company. I don’t get much company anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” she said as she opened the door. She turned to leave, only to find her exit blocked. She looked up into the eyes of a six-foot-three-inch boulder.

“Excuse me. I was j-just leaving,” she stammered, taken aback by her sudden encounter with this immovable object.

“You aren’t going anywhere,” he said.

“Would you please get out of my way,” Darlene said, letting him know that she was not easily intimidated.

The man put his hand in the inside pocket of his jacket, took out his badge and flashed it. “I’m Detective Michael Raines of the Memphis Police, and you don’t leave this house until I say so.”

Darlene looked him in the eye. “Really? I thought all the bullies in uniform were in Baltimore. Apparently Tennessee has some, too. How interesting! Now, would you please move aside? I have business to take care of.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Go right ahead. Maybe you can walk through me.”

She stared at him, seeing him as if for the first time. Something flickered in his light brown eyes, and she responded, unable to do otherwise. She told herself to get out of there. But she stood rooted to the spot. His eyes said he would never release her. She shook her head as if to break the spell he had cast over her.

“I’m Attorney Darlene Cunningham, and you have no reason to keep me here. If you don’t let me pass, I’ll sue you, the city of Memphis and the state of Tennessee,” she said, her mild manner dissolving into anger.

His facial expression didn’t change one bit. Realizing that belligerence would get her nowhere with Detective Raines, she decided to switch tactics.

“You haven’t read me my rights, and you have to do that if I’m under arrest.” Her voice took on a taunting tone.

“You are not under arrest, Ms. Cunningham. You are being detained.”

She leaned her head to the side in what she knew he’d take as a challenge. “What’s the difference?” she said, clearly losing patience.

“Very funny, Ms. Cunningham, but you may as well have a seat, because you cannot leave this house until I say so.”

Darlene turned to the old man. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

“My name is Boyd Farmer. Have a seat. At least it’s comfortable in here.”

“Is this guy your son? Oh, sorry,” she said before Boyd could respond. “You’re too nice to have such an arrogant, obnoxious son. I really need to go.”

“I’m sorry,” Boyd said. “He isn’t going to let you go.”

She whirled around and glared at Michael Raines, and for her trouble she felt a peculiar thudding in the region of her heart. “At least I deserve to know why I’m being detained,” she said. “What did I do?” Realizing that her tone would only make him more adamant, she switched tactics again. “You’re unlike any detective I’ve ever met.”

“What do you mean by that?” His tone was definitely not friendly.

“Oh,” she said, tossing her hair to the side. “I mean, aren’t police officers supposed to protect and serve?”

Boyd’s laughter filled the room, but she avoided looking in his direction. Instead she focused on Michael Raines.

“Yeah,” he said. “Now, sit down and let’s cut the comedy.”

Darlene did not like taking orders from a stranger, even one with a badge. She didn’t move. “You don’t look stupid,” she told him. “You have to tell me why you’re holding me here. It’s the law. Tell me why I’m being detained, or I’m leaving.” She tried to move past him.

He grabbed her shoulders and glared at her. “What are you doing here?”

She twisted her shoulders and moved away from him. “I’m trying to get information that I hope will help my client’s case.”

“You’ll have to prove that to me. This house has been under surveillance, and neither you nor anyone else can leave here. Get it?”

She’d have to come up with a different excuse. Getting back to her office in Maryland was paramount. The other partners already considered her trip to Memphis little more than a wild-goose chase, and if they discovered her present predicament… She didn’t want to think of their reaction.

“I have to get back to my hotel,” she said.

He folded his arms across his broad chest and smiled, giving evidence that he could be charming when it suited him. “Oh, so I gather you plan to leave Memphis.”

“No, as a matter of fact I’m staying at the Peabody,” she said.

“Really?” he said. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem for you to stay here.”

“Now, look here, you,” she said, with all the softness of a wildcat about to pounce. “You’re going to…” She stopped. His beautiful eyes twinkled like flashing lights, and she could see his difficulty in restraining his laughter.

“You’re not one bit funny, and I’ll have the last laugh.”

At that point, Boyd brought the tea along with a brioche and jam. “This should make you comfortable.” She thanked him. “Detective Raines doesn’t like tea, and I don’t have any more coffee,” he said.

“How long has he been here?” Darlene asked Boyd, pointing to Michael.

“He’s been here two weeks. That’s why I don’t have any more coffee. He’s practically a coffee addict.”

She took a few sips of tea and looked at Michael. “Coffee addict, eh? I’m glad to have at least some evidence that you’re human.”

Something akin to pain flickered in his eyes, and she wished she could retract her words. It wasn’t his fault that she’d stumbled into a house that was under surveillance. He was doing his job. Maybe if she appealed to his decency, he’d let her go.

“If I’m stuck here for any length of time, I’ll lose my case.” She told herself that she wouldn’t beg, but that had sounded very much like a plea. She observed him carefully to see his response.

“But how do I know you’ve told me the truth? You could be the person I’ve spent the last few weeks looking for.”

“Oh, come on,” she said, her attitude inching toward aggressiveness again. “Anybody can look at me and see that I’m not a burglar.”

He looked toward the ceiling as if begging for mercy. “Another statement like that and I’ll have proof that you’re not a lawyer.”

“I am, and I have to be in court Monday morning. If I don’t show up, I’ll be in contempt.”

“I can take care of that. Give me your client’s name and the case number. I’ll take care of the problem right now.”

“No, thank you. I don’t want any help from you.”

His quick shrug let her know what he thought of her response.

“You’re a heartless man.”

“If you say so.”

Darlene was already mad with herself. She decided to switch gears one more time, hoping that a different tactic might soften him up. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself for doing this to an innocent person,” she chided. “You could ruin my life.”

Boyd walked over to where Darlene and Michael stood at loggerheads. “Darlene… I hope you don’t mind if I call you Darlene. Wouldn’t you like to freshen up a bit? There’s a lovely guest room and bath upstairs, and if you’re going to be here for a while, you’re welcome to use it.”

She could see that Boyd wanted to lower the tension between them, so she smiled and patted his arm. “Thanks. That would be lovely.”

“Leave your pocketbook and that briefcase down here,” Michael said. “And don’t think you can use the phone up there. It’s been disconnected. On second thought, I’ll show you where the guest room is. Who knows what you’ll try to do?”

Darlene whirled around and headed for the stairs, intent upon finding the room herself, but he managed to move slightly ahead of her. “This way,” he said, turning left at the top of the stairs.

At the bedroom door, she tossed her head back, sending her hair flying around her face.

A grin spread over his face. “Don’t even think about it. That’s a thirty-foot drop. You’re clever enough to know that if you jumped, you’d hurt yourself. Besides, every window in this house is locked.”

Slouched against the doorjamb, Michael stared down at her. Then his gaze shifted from her eyes down to her lips and stayed there. His light brown eyes darkened. His nostrils flared, and he sucked in his breath.

“I don’t need you to chaperone me while I go to the bathroom,” she challenged.

Not a muscle in his face moved. “Why don’t you say what you really mean? Darlene, I could have you thrashing with passion one minute and handcuff you the next.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said, moving toward him.

He folded his arms across his chest. “You’re reckless, but I’m not. You’re ready to do something stupid right now, and you haven’t given a second thought to the consequences.”

How many times had she heard those very words from her family? As usual, she ignored the advice. “What consequences?” she asked. “You’re a cop, and you’re obligated to behave like one.”

His laugh was barely more than a groan. “I’m also a man. And since I’m a cop, when it’s your word against mine, mine carries more weight. Get in there, wash your face or whatever else you plan to do and stop testing me. If I decide to take you up on your flirtations, you’ll remember it for a long time.”

“Really? I’d love to know what you’d do.”

“What you really want is to experience what I’d do to you,” he said.

Her jaw dropped. She wasn’t used to having anyone be so candid with her. Naturally, she flirted. But it was always harmless. She’d better be careful with this guy, she thought. Still, her mind wondered for a minute if Michael Raines would give her what she’d been missing.

“You’re an open book, Darlene, and that makes you dangerous.”

She looked at him and said, “Please at least go back downstairs. Your standing here is embarrassing.”

“Of course.” To her surprise, he headed down stairs.

Almost immediately after Darlene came back downstairs, the doorbell rang. Michael quickly reached the door to open it. He checked the deliveryman’s identification, accepted the food and reached into his pocket for his wallet.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Darlene said as she rushed to the door and handed the deliveryman a twenty-dollar bill. “Keep the change,” she said.

The man looked first at the money and then at Darlene. “It’s only eleven bucks, ma’am.”

“And I said keep the change,” she replied to the astonished deliveryman. He looked at the money again, shook his head from side to side, smiled and left.

Michael did nothing to restrain the grin that spread over his face. “I don’t like you, Detective Raines,” she said.

He laughed harder, then looked her in the eye. “That may be the biggest lie you ever told. Say you’re irritated or even furious with me, and I’ll believe you. But, damn it, you like me. And another thing. Nobody calls me Detective Raines except my mother. If you want a response from me, call me Mike.”

“But that’s what you said your name is,” she told him.

A scowl altered the elegant contours of his face. “It’s on my official title, but that doesn’t mean I like it. Call me Mike!”

“Since we all have to be here together, can’t we be friends?” Boyd asked in his soft, gentle voice.

“That would require civility on all of our parts,” Darlene said, mainly to annoy the detective. “I’m not sure that Michael is capable of that.”

“Oh, no,” Boyd began. “He’s always kind to me. If you don’t upset him, he’s very gentle.”

“Thanks, Boyd. You’re right,” Darlene said. “I’ve learned that you can calm a rambunctious child by tiptoeing around the little brat.”

He knew she was deliberately goading him, and he could give as good as he got, but he’d be damned if he’d let her know that she was getting to him. “I’m surprised that you have any children,” he said, disappointed at the possibility that she was married. “It seems a bit too much for you to have gotten a law degree, pursued a career as an attorney, hooked a husband and had children.”

From the change in her demeanor, he could see that he had hit a nerve. “What are you suggesting?”

He wasn’t sure, but it sounded like she was grinding her teeth. “What’s the matter?” He didn’t bother to suppress a roguish grin. “In over your head?”

“Michael, I’m twenty-nine. I have two degrees and no children.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Does that mean you’ve got a man? When does a busybody like you have time for a man?”

He’d upset her with that crack. It was over the line, and he wished he hadn’t said it. Her beautiful face seemed to lose its elegance, and even as he looked at her, her dark eyes lost their luster. He wanted to put his arms around her and…

“You’re trying to take my mind off the fact that you’re unlawfully detaining me.” She looked at her watch. “Damn! I should have taken my medicine an hour ago. It’s in my hotel room, and if I don’t take it soon, I could have a seizure.”

He threw up his hands. “Sure, and the Mississippi River runs right through Washington, D.C. I’m not falling for that. Besides, if it were true, you’d carry your medication with you. Try another tactic.”

“Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked him. “No food, no feelings and no fun?” She grinned. He tried to ignore her. He was trying to protect her, as well as Boyd Farmer. If she walked out of that house alone, she’d likely walk into trouble.

“Before this is over, you may need my help.”

“Let’s all try to get along,” Boyd said. He looked at Mike, who didn’t seem interested. “Oh, by the way, would you please ask your relief to bring a can or two of deep-roasted Columbian coffee and a gallon of milk?”

Mike walked to the window, looked out and turned to Boyd. “I’ll bring the coffee and milk when I come tomorrow morning.”

Mike noticed Darlene’s sudden interest and figured that as soon as his replacement arrived, she’d try to escape.

“Don’t even think about it, Darlene. Cody Johnson won’t be half as nice to you as I am. If you try to pull a stunt, or even if you give him any lip, he’ll take you down to the station and let you cool off in the lockup.”

“But I haven’t done anything,” she said, her big eyes clouding with the threat of tears. Quickly, he turned his back to avoid feeling any sympathy if she began to cry.

“Then I suggest you cooperate.”

“Look. I’m tired.” She placed the tray that contained the remains of her lunch—hardly touched—on the coffee table and got up. “It’s been one long day.”

“If you need anything, let me know,” Boyd said. “I usually eat dinner around seven, so I’ll wake you up about six, and we can order takeout.”

“Thanks, Boyd.” She reached for her pocketbook.

“That stays right there,” Mike said. “Right where I can keep an eye on it.”

“Why does knowing my pocketbook is in your care make me unhappy?”

“It’s a pity that she has to stay here, Mike,” Boyd said. “She’s such a lovely young lady.”

He couldn’t deny that. As she walked up the stairs, the sway of her hips showed Boyd and Mike how a master choreographer perfected a dance. Mike uttered an expletive under his breath.

“Do you think she’ll go to sleep?” Boyd asked Mike.

Mike threw up his hands. “Trust me, she won’t do anything that sensible. I’ll sleep on that sofa over there tonight, in case she tries something foolish.”

“I like her,” Boyd said.

“What man wouldn’t,” Mike retorted. “That doesn’t mean you can let your guard down. Many a crook has sent a beautiful woman to do his work for him.”

Darlene did not have rest in mind. She quietly walked up the stairs, paused at the guest room, turned and looked toward the stairs to see if Mike had followed her. When she saw that he hadn’t, she opened and then closed the door to give the impression that she’d gone inside the room. Then she tiptoed down the hall and peeped in what she assumed was the master bedroom, a very masculine setting with a big mahogany sleigh bed, a Bokhara rug and wood blinds. She stepped in, looked in the bathroom and shook her head. No possibility there. She left the master and looked in the next room. The room next door didn’t offer an opportunity for escape, either. Even if she managed to get out, the window was at the front of the house, and she’d be caught.

She saw a door slightly ajar at the end of the hall, peeped in and saw a spa bath. Figuring that if she stepped into the Jacuzzi, she could stand on the edge of it to reach the window, which did not seem to be locked, she decided to risk it. She sat on the edge of the treadmill, pulled off her four-inch heels and stepped into the tub. After an exhausting struggle balancing precariously on the edge of the Jacuzzi, she managed to raise the window about eight inches. She grabbed the windowsill, pushed her body upward, closed her eyes and got as much as her shoulders out of the window.