The Price Of Passion

He looked down into her eyes and drawled, “Did you really think I’d just roll over and do whatever you told me to do?”

Yes, damn it. “Of course not. I’m just trying to make this easier on both of us.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “So thoughtful. Well, thanks for your concern, but I can take care of myself.”

“So you won’t agree?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Irritation fired up inside Beth until she wanted to tear at her hair. “What are you saying then?”

“Simple. You have a plan. I’ll go along, but I want something in return.”

Outraged, she sucked in a gulp of air. “You’re really going to ask me for a favor? You’re going to bargain with me? After what you did?”

He held up one hand. “Nope, not talking about the past, remember?”

Beth fought the urge to climb back into her car and drive away, leaving him in a cloud of dust. The only thing keeping her there was the knowledge that she had to get him to agree to a truce or Royal wasn’t going to be big enough for both of them.

“And it’s not a favor,” Cam said. “Let’s call it quid pro quo.”

Folding her arms across her middle, Beth tipped her head to one side and met his gaze steadily. She should have known Camden wouldn’t go along with her plan. He’d always been stubborn. Always wanted things his own way. Of course, so had she. Which was just one of the reasons that their relationship had been filled with fire, excitement, passion… She shook her head. “Fine. What do you want?”

Squinting, he said, “Getting hotter out here. You want to come in and get out of the sun?”

She shot a quick glance at the house, then looked back at him. Alone in the house with him? Hoo, boy. That was too much of a temptation. “No. Just tell me, Cam.”

“Fine. I want to join the TCC.”

That’s what he wanted? Seriously? She’d thought that maybe he wanted to call a truce between them. Or donate a kidney to some deserving soul. Or hell, paint his house neon yellow. But the TCC?

Throwing up her hands, she demanded, “Well, who’s stopping you?”

He scrubbed one hand across the back of his neck. “No one that I know of,” he admitted. “Yet. Burt Wheeler’s the treasurer though and he’s not one of my biggest fans. He won’t do me any good when my application comes before the membership committee.”

Burt Wheeler. Camden’s father-in-law, who still blamed Camden for taking Julie away from Royal. He’d never really gotten over his daughter moving away to California, and when she died, it had nearly killed Burt. Beth could understand why there might be bad blood between Cam and the older man.

“Fine. What do you expect me to do about it?”

“Use your influence.” He shoved both hands into his back pockets. “Hell, Beth, you’re a Wingate. Your family has always ruled this town. You speak up for me to the president—Who is president of the TCC now?”

“James Harris.” Two years older than Camden, the two men hadn’t been friends growing up, but it was impossible to grow up in Royal and not know everyone.

“Good. He’s a fair man.” Cam nodded. “If a Wingate speaks to James for me, it’ll go a long way.”

He wasn’t wrong, Beth acknowledged. The Wingate name carried a lot of weight in Royal and in many other places, as well. She used that name to foster the charities she supported and ran. So supporting Cam at the club would be an easy enough thing to do. But, first, she had to know what was driving him.

“Why is this so important to you? You never used to care about the Texas Cattleman’s Club.” Had he really changed so much? “Heck, you used to make fun of the old guard gathering at their own private ‘watering hole.’ Now you want in?”

“I’m opening a business and I want that support behind me when I do.” He pulled his hands free, slapped one palm on the hood of his truck and instantly lifted it off again with a hiss of pain. “Damn thing’s hot. Anyway, everyone knows you need the TCC stamp of approval if you want a business in Royal to succeed.”

A business. She wondered why he would bother. Beth knew darn well that he was already sitting on a fortune. Why not just be a rich cowboy and enjoy what he’d already built. What did he have to prove? He’d been on television for heaven’s sake. Huh. Was that what he was up to?

“You fixing to flip houses here like you did in California? Want to film a new handyman show? Because you won’t find that many run-down neighborhoods in Royal.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I’m done with all of that.”

She waited, but he didn’t offer any more information and Beth didn’t ask. She wanted to, but damned if she’d give him the satisfaction of knowing she was curious. Was he finished with the flipping business because Julie was gone now and he couldn’t bear to do it without her? Had he loved his wife that much? Were memories of Julie haunting him? A twinge of pain ached in her heart. Beth pushed it aside, though she couldn’t stop the questions rushing through her mind. Still, she kept quiet.

“Fine,” she said finally. “I’ll do what I can for you at the TCC on one condition.”

His brown eyes narrowed on her. “You already laid down your condition. We don’t talk. We avoid each other. Remember?”

“Yeah, but now that’s not enough.” She had him and they both knew it. He needed her and she wasn’t going to waste this opportunity.

Wary now, he asked, “What do you want?”

“A very hefty donation to my favorite charity.”

Both eyebrows rose. She’d surprised him. Well, good. Maybe that would convince him that he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did. They’d both changed a lot over the years.

“We’re going to build a new children’s wing at Royal hospital and I’m in charge of raising the money.” She smoothed the skirt of her dress. “I’m fund-raising now, and I think a donation from you will go a long way toward convincing the TCC membership that you’re the kind of man they want as a member.”

His eyes narrowed on her suspiciously. “Sounds like blackmail to me.”

“That’s an ugly word.” She examined her fingernails and made a mental note to get a manicure tomorrow. “I prefer the term extortion.”

He snorted.

“There’s going to be a big charity ball at the TCC in October to raise money for the new wing,” she said, catching his eye. “And if you make a substantial donation, I’ll make sure you’re a member before then.”

He took a deep breath and let it out again. “Hell, you’ve got more of your father in you than I ever noticed.”

Beth knew he meant that as an insult. Her father hadn’t liked Cam at all back in the day. Cam, of course, had decided it was because his mother had been a Tigua Indian.

Trent hadn’t cared about that, though Beth had never been able to convince Cam of it. Her father’s resistance had come from the fact that he hadn’t wanted his daughter falling in love with a simple ranch hand. She was a Wingate. That meant she had a duty to marry someone as rich as they were. To continue the dynasty.

Beth had ignored her father’s plans for her because, back then, all she’d been able to see was Cam. And, she told herself, look where that had gotten her. Thankfully now, her eyes were wide open.

“If you mean that, like my father, I know how to get things done, then yes. You’re absolutely right.”

He snorted again.

“That’s so rude.”

Cam grinned. “I know. Okay, we have a deal.”

“The whole thing,” she qualified. “The donation, the staying away from each other…”

“And the membership in the TCC,” he put in.

“Agreed.” She held out one hand and his right hand enveloped hers.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.