Passion's Price

by Donna Kimel Vitek

  Because Regina always put plan into action with little delay, she and Nick left the house almost immediately. Watching her sister smile up at him and tuck her hand into the crook of his arm, Laine winced, her anguish becoming a stiletto of piercing jealousy stabbing her chest. At that moment she almost hated her father for making her jealous of her own sister, and when she looked at him and saw his satisfied smile as the front door closed behind Regina and Nick, resentments, dormant too long, erupted to flow hotly through her veins. Perspiration gathered in the hollow at the base of her throat. Her cheeks burned. She continued to stare furiously at Thornton when he turned his head to face her.

  "Well, Laine, what are we having for dinner?" he foolishly asked, then belatedly realized his error. "Oh, that's right. It's Friday and you don't cook. So I'll have to fend for myself, I guess."

  Seething in outrage, she rose slowly to her feet. "You'll be fending for yourself every night soon, Father," she announced icily, her voice low and steady, "because as soon as I can get a faculty apartment or even a place in Brunswick, I'm leaving this house."

  "What the devil are you talking about?" he asked impatiently. "What's wrong with you?"

  "What's wrong with me!" Laine shouted, shaking her head disgustedly. "A better question is, what's wrong with you! How can you be so insensitive? How could you suggest Nick take Regina out when you must know by now how much he means to… How could you do that to me? You said he came here to see me. Don't you think I wanted to know why?"

  "Well, uh, I guess that just didn't occur to me," Thornton replied, somewhat flustered, tugging at the knot of his tie. "I simply thought Nick and your sister might enjoy each other's company. I had no idea it would upset you if I suggested they go out."

  "And I suppose it's never occurred to you that I actually have feelings," Laine persisted, her voice deadly quiet. Hugging her arms tight across her breasts, she surveyed her father with something akin to contempt. The expression that incongruously hardened her delicate features conveyed provoked rebelliousness, and gone forever was the patient acceptance of the past. A grim smile touched her lips but did nothing to soften the defiant spark in her eyes. She shook her head again. "What is it with you, Father? Haven't you even noticed how quiet I've been since my vacation ended? Didn't you see how upset I was when Nick left here angry that night two weeks ago? Didn't you begin to suspect that, while you were trying to use me as a bribe to get the grant, I was becoming more and more involved with Nick?"

  "How was I to know you'd become infatuated with him?" Thornton blustered, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "Besides, aren't you making mountains out of molehills? In a couple of weeks, you'll forget all about Nick."

  "I rather doubt that. Maybe I'm weird or something, but I think I'm likely to remember my first lover," Laine stated bluntly, finding some small measure of satisfaction in her father's rasping intake of breath. His face flushed as he snapped up straight in his chair and she pressed on relentlessly. "Why so shocked, Father? You practically handed me to Nick on a silver platter. You were so obsessed with trying to get that grant you were willing to use me as bait. Now that Nick's given you what you want, though, you decided he deserved a better prize than me. So you handed him Regina."

  "I didn't hand him Regina and I didn't use you as bait!" Thornton protested vehemently, raking his fingers through his hair. "I did ask you to be nice to him. But, good God, I didn't expect you to…"

  "Oh, I'm not that big a ninny, Father," Laine interrupted curtly. "What I allowed to happen certainly wasn't for your benefit. As I tried to tell you, Nick could never be influenced anyhow. But nothing changes the fact that you nearly threw me into his arms and then didn't even notice I had fallen in love with him. And what you did tonight was the final straw. I can't live here any more. You'd better start looking for a housekeeper."

  "Come, now, Laine, let's not be hasty," Thornton muttered, getting to his feet to gesture uncertainly. "I see now how upset you are, but after all, this is only a slight misunderstanding."

  "There's no misunderstanding," she answered flatly, emotions spent and only cold resolve remaining. "In fact, I think I'm finally understanding things for the first time. The problem is and has always been your attitude toward me. Frankly, I no longer have the patience to ignore your insensitivity. My mind is made up. In fact, I'm not spending the night here. I'm going to Marge's to feed Jasper and I'll just stay there in her spare room until I've made other arrangements. I'm sure she won't mind."

  "Laine, don't exaggerate this situation," Thornton argued, watching her as if she had been transformed into some strange, wild creature right before his very eyes. "You only have to feed the cat. You don't need to stay with him all night."

  "Sorry to be so blunt, but at the moment I prefer Jasper's company to yours." With that, Laine marched out of the living room and up the stairs, where she tossed a nightgown, her toothbrush, and a few other assorted necessities into a tote bag. When she swept back down the steps a minute or so later and saw her father awaiting her in the foyer, she pressed her lips together, in no mood to hear another word from him. Ignoring the slight, beseeching movement of one of his hands, she stepped past him and out the front door, without even a backward glance as he called after her.

  Marge's house was two streets away, and Laine cut through lawns to get there in a hurry. Delayed reaction was setting in, and her composure was beginning to fray along the edges. All she wanted was some time to hide herself away from the world and everybody in it. After searching for Marge's key in her purse, she let herself in and tossed her belongings onto a deacon's bench in the hallway. She went through the kitchen to the back door and opened it. Jasper, apparently on the point of starvation, was clinging to the screen as if he had been glued there, and the sight was so unexpectedly funny that Laine began to laugh out loud. Softly at first, then more and more uncontrollably, until the sound nearly became a sob before she at last managed to control it.

  The numbness that had mercifully descended on her earlier was wearing off fast now. The aching heaviness in her chest became so oppressive she felt almost ill, and the tightness in her throat made even swallowing difficult. After spooning the famished Jasper's dinner from a small can into his dish, Laine started wandering through the house, too restless to sit down. As the hours dragged by, her thoughts became more and more distressing. She could see Regina and Nick together in her mind, and her imagination ran wild. She knew her sister. A man as attractive and intelligent as Nick could easily have her on cloud nine in a matter of minutes. And he, as most men did, had obviously found her irresistible. Laine knew all too well what that could mean. Their evening together could end in a passionate interlude in his motel room. Attractive men were Regina's weakness and an aggressive suitor like Nick could probably make her forget she had just met him.

  Agonized by the thought of the man she loved and her own sister making love, she moaned softly, stopping in the doorway of Marge's den to lean her head wearily against the jamb. She tried to convince herself that Nick wasn't the kind of man who could go from one sister's bed to another's, yet… how well did she really know him? She had also believed he felt some affection for her, but if he did, it hadn't prevented him from going out with Regina tonight. Maybe he felt nothing at all for her then. Maybe he didn't care if he hurt her.

  Seeking even the most superficial comfort, Laine took a long steaming bath. Afterward, she felt physically less tense, and when she had slipped on her nightgown, she immediately went to bed, curling up in a protective little ball beneath a light cover. In the darkness of Marge's guest room, however, the events of the evening clamored in her mind again and suddenly, without warning, a soft sob escaped her, then another. Tears began to flow. She couldn't stop them. Turning her face into her pillow, she cried for hours until, exhausted, she slipped into a dreamless sleep. It was the necessary emotional release she had battled against far too long.

  With morning a semblance of composure returned. Laine awoke about seven, emotional
ly stronger despite a lingering physical weariness. Though thoughts of Nick still hurt and she knew they would for quite some time, she also knew what she had to do to take some of the edge off her pain. Last night she had laid out all her resentment at her father's feet. It was Nick's turn today. She might not be as candid in expressing her feelings to him, but she knew, to maintain her own self-respect, she must at least tell him he had been very inconsiderate, leaving with Regina when he had supposedly come to see her. Tired of having her strings pulled by her father for years and by Nick for weeks, she was now determined to cut herself loose from both of them.

  Laine quickly washed her face and brushed her teeth, then put on her comfortable faded denim wraparound dress. She briskly brushed her hair until it shimmered like burnished gold and she pinched some color into slightly pale cheeks. In the kitchen a moment later, she started coffee perking and had a piece of buttered toast. It tasted so surprisingly delicious, she decided to have another. She felt very calm, almost eager to face Nick with what she had to say to him. It would be like an exorcism, one that might not bring real happiness right away but would at least be a new beginning. She had always considered herself an independent person, fully capable of controlling her own life, and this morning she was going to prove she was to Nick. Finishing her impromptu breakfast, she quickly washed the few dishes she had used, put Jasper out, and left Marge's to walk back to her father's house where her car was. Happily, Thornton didn't appear while she got into the Omni and started the engine.

  Less than ten minutes later, she arrived at Nick's motel, spotted the Jaguar, and breathed a sigh of relief. Although it was early yet, only a few minutes past eight, she had been afraid he had already checked out. But he was here. She parked her car beside his and got out before she could even think of hesitating. Going to the lobby around the corner, she was told by the desk clerk the number of the room Nick was in, verifying her assumption that he'd parked almost directly in front of it. She retraced her steps, paused a moment before Nick's door, and unnecessarily smoothed her hair. The niggling little fear that she might find Regina with Nick dragged at her stomach, but she made herself dismiss it. Regina never stayed out all night when she was home for a visit.

  Laine knocked on the door, then had no time even to take a deep breath before Nick opened it. Shirtless, his bared chest bronze, he stood barefoot on the threshold, dark trousers slung low on lean hips. His half-dressed state evoked a flood of disturbing memories, but she allowed none of her thoughts to be mirrored in her face. Her expression remained as unreadable as his.

  "Morning, Nick," she began lightly, her smile no more than polite as she pulled her collar away from her neck. "My, it's hot already, isn't it? And muggy. I imagine we're in for a thunderstorm."

  He glanced upward at the darkening sky. "Looks that way," he agreed, then turned sideways, indicating she should enter his room. "Come in, Laine. It's much cooler in here."

  Wondering why he didn't seem at all surprised by her visit, she stepped inside. Though she tried to do it discreetly, her eyes immediately sought the bed and she breathed a silent sigh of relief when she saw that the sheets were only rumpled on one side and only one pillow bore an indentation. She looked back at Nick and found him surveying her closely, narrowed green eyes darkly mysterious. Shifting her straw purse from one hand to the other, she gave him another bland smile.

  "I didn't get a chance to tell you last night but I've been reading about your Pittsburgh case in the paper," she said. "I'm sorry the judge decided to rule that your client's competent to stand trial."

  Nick shrugged. "It was the ruling we expected." Dropping his hands from his hips, he stepped closer to Laine, close enough to brush fingertips over the faint violet crescents that lay beneath her eyes. "You look a little tired, Laine," he said softly. "What's wrong? Didn't you sleep well last night?"

  "I slept fine, thank you," she lied, turning away from him to stare out the window. "I just haven't been feeling really well lately."

  "Tell me what's wrong, Laine," he whispered roughly, moving behind her, sliding his arms around her waist. Long lean fingers spread open over her abdomen. "Are you pregnant?"

  "Is that why you wanted to see me last night?" she asked, bitterly amused by his "concern." She tried to push his hands away but was foiled in the attempt as he turned her swiftly around to face him, imprisoning her in the circle of his arms. She ignored the compelling warmth that emanated from the body so close to her own and looked up at him, a rather mocking smile still lingering on her lips. "Is that why you came to tell father about the grant? Because you also wanted to ask if I'm pregnant?"

  A muscle worked in his tautened jaw. "Just answer the question, please."

  "I'm not on a witness stand. Don't play the attorney with me," she said coolly, with a slight outthrusting of her chin. "Besides, you didn't seem that anxious last night to ask if I'm pregnant. The need to find out certainly didn't stop you from going out with Regina."

  Impatience glinted in his eyes. His hand around her waist tightened and he shook her lightly. "For God's sake, tell me whether you're pregnant or not."

  "I'm not. Most definitely not," she snapped back, straining against his arms, too aware of his superior physical strength. He seemed to tower above her, his very broadness blocking the light from the lamp behind him. Yet wariness was overwhelmed by some reckless perversity that drove her on, forced her to add tauntingly, "Are you happy now? Can you go home, relieved that all the loose ends are tied and you don't have to worry about a possible paternity suit that might hurt your career? Or did you find Regina so perfectly enchanting that you're going to stay around while she's in town?"

  His darkly slashed brows lifted. "That sounds like jealousy, Laine," he murmured, a sardonic smile curving his hard lips. "Are you jealous because I went out with your sister last night?"

  "What you do is no concern of mine," she answered primly but her newfound rebellion flashed in her eyes. "But let me tell you something. Nobody's ever going to treat me the way you did last night and not hear something from me, not you, not my father, not anybody. It was unbelievably rude of him to suggest you go out with Regina when he knew you had supposedly come to see me. And it was even ruder of you to agree. So, now that you know what I think of your lack of manners, I have nothing more to say." With an abrupt violent twist of her body, she freed herself from him. "I'm going now."

  "I think not," he drawled, catching her arms again before she could take a step toward the door. She struggled to push his hands away, but he jerked her against him with such force that her breath was expelled from her lungs with a gasp. Gripping her chin between thumb and forefinger with little gentleness, he tilted back her head. The piercing hardness of his eyes impaled her, challenged the defiant spark in her own. "If you were so incensed by your father's suggestion, why didn't you speak up last night?"

  "I expected you to say something. After all, you had said you were there to see me."

  "Maybe you just didn't want to antagonize 'Father'," Nick ground out, the contours of his face hardening, conveying ruthlessness. "I was hoping you'd finally find the courage to defy him. He gave you the perfect opportunity last night with his idiotic suggestion, but you simply sat there, Laine, and took it, as always."

  "I took nothing. I'm moving out of his house and I told him so. He's never had any consideration for my feelings and… neither have you. Well, this is the end. He went too far last night and so did you, by going out with Regina."

  "You goaded me into going out with her," Nick countered, his deep voice gruff. "You sat there as if you didn't give a damn whether I took her out or not, so I did."

  "You really must think I'm simpleminded if you expect me to believe that," Laine said with a sarcastic twisting of her lips. "Don't you think I know men can't resist Regina? She's so beautiful, so… so perfect."

  "No, not perfect, Laine," Nick whispered, his hands on her suddenly gentling as his eyes swept with searching intensity over her upturned face. "Regina
is pretty; she vivacious. But she's not perfect. Frankly, she impresses me as a young woman who merely skims over the surface of life. I'm sorry to insult your sister, but she's a shallow woman, Laine. After only an hour with her, I was bored. Needless to say, I took her home long before midnight."

  "I don't believe that," Laine said flatly. "I know men think Regina is so sexy…"

  "Sex isn't everything."

  "It was all you ever wanted from me," she softly accused, her eyes clouding to deep dark blue, revealing her inner vulnerability for the first time since her arrival. Reluctantly, she pressed her hands against his bare chest, closing her eyes as flesh burned flesh. "Let me go, Nick. You've used me enough."

  "I've never used you, Laine," he muttered huskily, slipping his hands up her arms to rest them heavily on her shoulders. "I had to take what you gave."

  "You seduced me."

  "You wanted me to."

  Laine shook her head. "Not if you only did it because you thought I'd let you for Father's benefit. You had to be using me. After all, you practically called me a prostitute more than once."

  "There were times when I could have called you worse. That night after we made love the first time, then you asked about the grant, whore was the word that came to mind."

  Laine gasped. Her eyes flew open at the same moment one hand shot upward almost of its own volition, her palm itching to make contact with his dark chiseled face. The slap was never delivered. Nick caught her wrist and effortlessly twisted her arm behind her back. He didn't hurt her, but he apparently recognized her desire to hurt him, and when she pushed at his chest with her free hand, then pressed her nails hard into warm firm flesh, he nearly smiled.

  "So there is a tigress beneath that calm exterior," he said, his tone strangely triumphant. "I've known your passion and suspected you hid other volatile emotions. But do you realize this is the first time I've seen you really furious? Now I can believe you tore into your father like a little hellcat last night. And that was one of the things that always bothered me. No matter what he said or did, you never lost your temper. So I had to wonder if you'd go to any lengths to gain his approval. And you have always wanted his approval, haven't you, Laine?"