Where There's Smoke
“Could be, but I doubt it. If he wanted to kill us, he wouldn’t be that subtle. He’d have done it when he had an audience.”
On the tray were an assortment of fruits and cheeses, cold roasted chicken, and bottled water. Key got a drumstick from the platter and without much interest took a bite. “Wonder why he let us go.”
She began to peel an orange. “Odd, isn’t it?”
“Damned odd. I don’t know what I expected, but not this.” He used the drumstick to point out their surroundings. “Not exactly The Plaza, but better than a bamboo hut with a dirt floor.”
He chewed thoughtfully. “Bottom line. Our lives in exchange for my taking his ‘message’ to the States? Nope. Doesn’t jive. Too easy. If he wanted to convey a message to our government, he could have used someone more influential than us, the head of state of an ally nation, for instance.” He tossed aside the chicken bone and opened a bottle of water. “Why didn’t he kill us, Lara?”
She returned the half-peeled orange to the tray. “I don’t know.” Moving to the windows, she parted the drapes and gazed out over the city.
“That orange would do you good. You haven’t eaten all day.”
She glanced back at the table with revulsion. “I don’t want to feel obligated to Emilio Sánchez for anything.”
“Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face. You should eat.”
“I’m really not hungry, Key. My mind isn’t on my stomach.” There was an edge of impatience in her voice, most of it self-directed. “I’ve been trying to sort through things.”
“What things?”
“I don’t know. Things. Everything. About what happened here three years ago. Randall. Ashley. If I dwell on that… that mass grave she’s buried in, I’ll probably go mad.” She clutched a handful of drapery. “So I can’t. I must concentrate on my memories of when she was alive. I must remember how bright and happy she was, how much joy she gave me during the short time I had her.”
Her hoarse voice began to waver. She paused to compose herself. “My daughter is lost to me, but if I focus on her life rather than her death, it doesn’t matter so much where her body is buried. Her spirit is still alive. In that respect, this isn’t a failed mission after all.”
“You had to return here in order to come to terms with it.”
She nodded. “Yes. That episode of my life—all of it, beginning with the scandal—has been governing my life for far too long. I accused everyone else of identifying me with tabloid headlines, but I’m the most guilty. I can’t continue regarding myself a victim. It’s time I got on with the rest of my life.”
“In Eden Pass?”
“I haven’t had much success there,” she remarked as she turned to face him.
“Not because you aren’t a good doctor, but because of us Tacketts. We’ve given you a hell of a hard time.”
Suddenly reluctant to look at him, she averted her head.
“Key, why did this happen between us?”
“The animosity? Or the other?”
“The other.”
He took a deep breath and held it, saying nothing for several moments. Finally: “You’re the doctor. Got any theories?”
She did, and indicated so with a slight motion of her shoulders. “People who’ve survived a life-threatening ordeal,” she began slowly, “frequently want sex directly afterward.” He raised one eyebrow, either with inquisitiveness or skepticism. She wasn’t sure. “It makes sense. Sex is the ultimate release of emotion, a means of unequivocally affirming life.
“I’ve had shamefaced patients confess to me that immediately following a funeral, they made love. With extraordinary passion. Human beings have an innate fear of death. Sex is instant confirmation of survival.
“After the harrowing experiences we’ve been through the past few days, it follows that we’d expend our pent-up fears and emotions with sex. Fierce, aggressive sex. We’re a classic example of this psychological phenomenon.”
Key had listened politely. Now he walked to her, coming so close that she had to tilt her head back in order to look into his face. “Bullshit. It happened because we wanted it to.” He kissed her hard and quick, stamping an impression of his lips on hers. “Damned if it needs any more justification than that.”
The clothes they had so recently put on were discarded as they made their way to the bed. When the backs of his knees touched it, he sat down and guided Lara to stand between his thighs. He lifted her breast to his mouth and flicked the nipple with his tongue.
Her eyes fluttered closed and choppy little breaths issued from her throat. She wound strands of his hair around her fingers but allowed his head to move freely over her breasts and down the center of her body. His beard rasped her belly, eliciting exciting and forbidden sensations. Between her thighs she began to ache, deliciously. The lips of her sex became swollen and warm.
Key splayed his hands over her bottom and tilted her middle up against his face. He nuzzled her. He kissed her navel. He kissed the soft skin beneath it. With little puffs of heat, his breath stirred her pubic hair.