“I want to watch TV,” Max said.
“Good.”
“What are we doing?”
“Looking for Mr. Holman.”
“Why?”
“To see if he’d like to have a slumber party.”
“With us?” The prospect of a party left Max excited and not tired at all, but the fact that her son might be up for a while longer was the least of Emma’s worries.
She located Preston still sitting in the Jacuzzi, his head barely visible above the steam coming off the hot water. Thank God he hasn’t left. But the sight of him didn’t raise her hopes by much. She had to figure out how to convince him to help her. She’d already offered him money, friendship, assistance. He didn’t want any of it. To make matters worse, ten minutes earlier she’d given him a look synonymous with flipping him the finger.
She searched frantically for possibilities, none of which would work. Then she remembered the quality of the smile Preston had worn when she’d caught him watching her in the pool, and felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. She did have one thing to trade. She’d never dreamed she’d ever consider what was going through her mind right now, but as she gazed down at her son, she knew she’d do anything. Squeezing Max’s hand, she only prayed it would be enough to provide what they so desperately needed.
“Mommy, a slumber party with us?” Max repeated, insisting on an answer.
Pasting a smile on her face, she nodded. Fortunately, her son would be fast asleep when the real party began.
“MR. HOLMAN!” a young voice cried.
Preston turned to see Emma and her son standing at the fence a few feet away.
“C-can I talk to you for a moment?” Emma asked when she caught his eye.
One of the other men in the Jacuzzi murmured to his friend, “You can talk to me, sweet thing,” and they chuckled together. But Preston didn’t view Max and Emma’s return as a good thing. Whether she looked like a pinup model in that bikini or not, he was glad to be rid of her. He didn’t want to worry about hiding his gun, didn’t want the extra trouble. He’d fought too long and too hard to find Vincent Wendell, made too many promises to Dallas, to allow himself to be distracted, even momentarily.
But he couldn’t leave her standing at the fence.
Smothering a curse, he got out of the hot water and stalked over. “Is something wrong?”
“Do you want to have a slumber party with us?” Max asked before Emma could reply.
Preston knew his expression had to reveal his opinion on that subject, but Max didn’t seem to notice.
“Say yes,” Max said. “I’ve never been to a slumber party.”
Preston looked at Emma. “Is this some kind of joke?”
She motioned him closer. As her cool hand touched his overheated arm, he wasn’t sure if she shivered or he did, but he could tell the kiss-my-ass attitude she’d adopted when she left the pool was long gone.
“We—we can’t go back to our room,” she whispered in his ear.
Preston scowled at Max, who was trying to wiggle between his mother and the fence.
“What did you say, Mommy?”
Emma met Preston’s eyes and didn’t answer her son.
“Why not?” Preston asked.
“Manuel’s there. He’s found us.”
This could have been a last-ditch effort to hitch a ride, but Emma was trembling too badly for him to believe she was lying. “Max’s father?”
She nodded.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. How in the world had he been unlucky enough to bump into these two? They were like bad pennies.
“Go to the police,” he said at last. “There’s nothing I can do for you.”
He started to step away, but she reached through the fence in time to catch his arm. “I—I’m not asking for a favor. I’m offering a trade. I thought maybe…”
Her words faltered.
“What?”
She tugged to get him to move closer, and he reluctantly let her whisper in his ear again. “I saw you…looking at me a few minutes ago.”
He could smell the scent of her shampoo. “Doesn’t hurt to look,” he said.
“You…” She cleared her throat and tried again. “You seemed to like what you saw,” she said hopefully.
He tried not to picture her without the T-shirt she was wearing over her suit now. “What if I did?”
“I’d be willing to make you a deal.”
“I’m not following this conversation.”
He moved with her as she inched away from Max, and her voice dropped so low Preston could scarcely hear her. “I’ll give you what you want, if you’ll give me what I want.”
The trembling he’d noticed earlier had reached her voice, which told him she wasn’t merely repeating an offer to help out with gas. “Are you saying you’ll have sex with me?” he asked in astonishment.
For all his surprise, he’d managed to keep his voice low, but Max hadn’t allowed them any space. He pressed between Emma and the fence again, and she put her hands over her son’s ears before she responded.
“If you have to spell it out, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
Her stiff posture and the stoicism in her face told him she found the idea of sleeping with him about as appealing as facing a firing squad. And that pretty much took care of his fantasies. He couldn’t imagine having any fun if she was only tolerating the experience. Besides, he could already tell that Emma wasn’t the quick and easy type, and he wasn’t about to become embroiled in an emotional mess.
He was curious to hear what she’d ask for in return, however. “In trade for what?”
She glanced around, obviously afraid someone might sneak up behind her. “You have to let me and Max stay with you tonight. And you have to take us to Salt Lake as soon as possible. As soon as the van’s fixed. I have to get out of Nevada.”
She was blinking fast, fighting tears. This was no joke. “Please?” she added desperately, as if she expected him to say no.
She’d just offered to sleep with him in exchange for a little human kindness. Scary thing was, she’d done it because she knew he’d probably refuse if she didn’t.
God, when had he sunk so low?
With a sigh, he focused on Max’s hopeful face.
“I’ll be good,” Max promised. “Say yes!”
What else could he do? His heart might be three sizes too small, but what was left of it wouldn’t let him turn them away. Desperate as Emma was, he feared she might make the same offer to someone who’d take her up on it. Or fall into the hands of the man she feared enough to sacrifice her dignity.