Page 12 of The Captive
The horror turned to rage.Her petite body began to shake in violent shudders.
“Lana—” he started.
“Don’t you dare say my name!”she roared.“If you want to call me something, call me Miss Kelley, just like my other kidnappers.”
“Keep your voice down,” he said sharply.
“Why?”she taunted.A humorless laugh popped out of her mouth.“So the others don’t find out you had sex with your hostage?So you don’t get fired?”
That pesky spark of guilt ignited in his gut again.Heforced himself to ignore it.Fine, so he’d slept with the woman he’d been assigned to tail.Nobody ever said he was an honorable man.In fact, honor played no part in his life.Had it been honorable for his father to murder his mother?Had it been honorable for his uncle to steal Deacon’s inheritance?Hell, no.His entire genetic code had dishonor programmed into it.
“So we don’t get killed,” he corrected, in harsh reply to her demand.“If Le Clair finds out about that night, he’ll either fire me or kill me, and then you’ll be all alone here.If he decides to kill you, too, I won’t be here to stop him.”
Another laugh.“You just said you’re not here to save me.How do I know you wouldn’t just let him kill me anyway, even if you were standing right beside him?”
“I promise you, I won’t let that happen.”
She went quiet for a moment, and when she spoke again, disgust laced her voice.“Jeez, I actually believe you.What iswrongwith me?I slept with a criminal, for God’s sake.You’rekidnappingme!Why should I believe anything you say?”
“Because it’s the truth,” he said simply.“As long as I’m here, I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Those big blue eyes searched his face.“You mean it.”
He swallowed.“Yes.”
“You don’t want me hurt.”
“No,” he agreed.
“Then let me go,” she pleaded.“Please, Deacon, let me go.”
“I…can’t.”Weariness spilled into his body.“I know you don’t understand any of this, but you need to cooperate with these men.You can’t antagonize them.They wouldn’t hesitate to shoot you, Lana.I promise you that.”
Her bottom lip began to tremble.
Deacon forced himself to stay still, not to eliminate the short distance between them and take her in his arms.
“How long are you going to keep me here?”she whispered.
“I don’t know,” he said honestly.“Your family will be contacted soon, and I assume the exchange will happen shortly after that.”
“The exchange?You mean, extorting money from my father?”Her tone rang with bitterness.
He nodded ruefully.
“I…never took you for greedy,” she finally said, her dark blond eyelashes coated with sparkling moisture.“That night at the museum, you acted like money didn’t matter to you.”
“No, I picked up on the fact that money doesn’t matter toyou.”
“So this is why you’re doing this, for the money?”She shook her head, a slow sad gesture that made him uncomfortable.“I must have misjudged you.”
His discomfort grew.She sounded so disappointed, a tad judgmental, too, and it was the judgment that raised his hackles.What did this woman know about poverty?Had she ever lived on the streets?Sat on a sidewalk holding out a tin can, begging for coins?She lived in splendor now, but had that splendor ever been taken away?He knew all about the life Lana Kelley led.The Beverly Hills mansion, the Montana ranch, the numerous vacation homes.He’d lived it, too.He’d been the son of a shipping tycoon, for Chrissake.
And he’d lost everything.Every last thing, save for the clothes on his back and the small duffel his uncle had let him pack before kicking him out on the street.
Lana Kelley didn’t know what life without money was.She’d never had to fight for her own survival.
And she had no right to judge him.
