His blood-curdling cry began as a strangling sound. But when it left his mouth, it was a full-fledged roar of outrage. He whirled around, lunged, grabbed her, and bent her backward over the hood of the truck. His forearm acted as a bar across her throat.
“I ought to kill you.”
“You might just as well,” she shouted bravely. “What’s one more murder? You were willing to sacrifice the lives of nine children to your own selfish pursuits.”
“Selfish pursuits! That film represents what I do for a living. You just cost me thousands, lady.”
“I’ll pay whatever you ask.”
“Forget it.”
“Name your price.”
“I don’t want the friggin’ job!”
“Because you might have to consider someone besides yourself for a change?”
“Damn right!”
“Okay, then, I’ll tell you how you can turn this to your advantage. Let me up. You’re hurting me.”
She squirmed against him. But immediately became still. His hips were pressing against hers, and her wiggling had a profound and instantaneous effect on him. Against the softest, most vulnerable part of her body, he grew hard.
At the same time she noticed his condition, it registered with him. Instead of moving away from her, however, he pressed closer, fitting himself into the cleft between her thighs. His eyes mocked her insultingly. His breath struck her face in hot gusts.
“You invited me, remember?” he said silkily. “I might take you up on your invitation.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
His slow smile was anything but reassuring. “Don’t count on it, lady.?
??
“You know why I took you out of that cantina.”
“All I know for sure is that I kissed you and that I woke up this morning with my pants unzipped.”
“Nothing happened,” she vowed in a voice tinged with anxiety.
“Not yet.” He made the words sound like a promise of things to come, but gradually released her and helped her up. “However, business before pleasure. How could this possibly work to my advantage?”
Rubbing her throat and casting him venomous looks, Kerry said, “The story. You would be involved in the rescue of nine orphans.”
“And in transporting illegal aliens into the United States.”
She shook her head. “We have Immigration’s sanction. All the children have been slated for adoption by American parents.” She saw a slight alteration in his skeptical expression and took advantage of it. “You’d be right there, Mr. O’Neal, recording it all on film. The story would have much more impact than what you already have.”
“Had.”
“Had,” she conceded guiltily.
They contemplated each other warily.
“Where are these kids?” he asked, breaking a long silence.
“About three miles north of here. I left them in hiding there yesterday afternoon.”
“What were you doing with them?”