Passion's Price

Passion's Price
Gwynne Forster

Determined to prove herself to her siblings and her boss, Darlene Cunningham has made a name in the exciting, sometimes dangerous world of criminal law.When Darlene travels to Memphis in pursuit of a witness, the Maryland attorney doesn't expect to be under the surveillance of the rugged Tennessee cop who sets off sensual sparks from the moment they meet.It's a one-two punch straight to his heart when the sultry beauty walks into the house Mike Raines is staking out. He can't let Darlene compromise his investigation. And he can't let her go. His desire is tempting the detective to break a few laws of his own–like the one that says never mix business with pleasure. But how can he resist the passionate woman who has changed his life? And whose love he'll risk any danger to claim?

“I’m glad you’re a detective. If you weren’t, I wouldn’t have met you.”

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

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

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.