Kari crossed her arms over her chest. “Stop being abusive. Are you going to air it or not?”
“On the word of one flunky?”
“How do you know he’s a flunky?” she challenged. “He might be the chief of staff.” Pinkie frowned at her threateningly. “All right, I’ll admit he’s not very high on the pecking order, but his story was confirmed by an R.N.”
“Who?”
“She refused to give me her name but assured me that she has seniority.”
He cursed beneath his breath and studied the wall for a moment. “All right. I’m going to air it. You’ve got us covered on libel with enough allegedly’s and supposedly’s. You know the police will be on you like frogs on a June bug, don’t you?”
“Everything I know is in the story.”
“What they see is what they get?”
“Exactly.”
“They ain’t gonna like it. They ain’t gonna believe it, either.”
“What’s up?” Bonnie popped her head around the door.
“I’m getting drunk tonight and I don’t want any argument from you,” Pinkie said, poking his finger close to her nose.
She only smiled, kissed him full on the mouth, and said, “I love you, too.”
Before he left with her, he glanced at the monitor again and made a regretful sound. “I have a premonition that I’m going to hate like hell approving this, but it’s too damn good to put a lid on.”
Kari sat curled in her easy chair, her eyes glued to the television screen as she watched her story air on the six o’clock news. Visually it wasn’t much. The only thing she could get on tape was an exterior shot of the hospital. She had edited in file tape of the stories done when each child disappeared.
It was what she had to say that would have the impact: It had been reported to her by two reliable sources that the kidnapings, for lack of a better word, had possibly been committed by members of the hospital staff.
It was a terrific story.
She was almost too excited to eat, but she cooked herself an omelet. She had just slid it onto a plate when her doorbell rang. Before opening the door, she checked the peephole.
Hunter! Her heart thudded at the sight of him. It had been three weeks, the longest twenty-one days in her life. Quickly she unlatched the door and swung it open. Her joy was premature.
He was livid.
Chapter Thirteen
WITHOUT SAYING A WORD, HE BRUSHED PAST HER AND came inside. She closed the door and turned to face him. Behind his glasses, his eyes were dark with anger. The brows over them were glowering. His body was drawn taut with rage. His fists balled and relaxed reflexively at his sides. He looked like he’d had a very trying day.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done this time?”
“Hello, Hunter. How nice to see you, too.”
She smiled up at him provocatively. After taking off the dress she had worn to work, she had put on an oversize sweatshirt. It rode low over the oldest, most ragged pair of jeans she owned. The sleeves were pushed up past her elbows. Her feet were bare. Her hair had been wound into a loose knot that was slipping from its precarious perch on the top of her head.
Her composure was an effective retaliation against his fury. It snapped him to attention like nothing else could have. He saw past his anger and looked at the woman. She looked adorable. Desire engulfed him, desire that was as rampant and consuming as a wildfire.
Reaching across the space that separated them, he grabbed a handful of her sweatshirt and hauled her against him. His other hand wrapped around that slipping mass of hair and lifted her face close to his.
“I want you so bad it’s killing me.”
His lips were rapacious. They moved over hers hungrily. His tongue reclaimed her mouth for its own.
Kari didn’t even pretend to resist. She didn’t care that he was obviously furious with her. Whatever reason had brought him to her, she was glad for it. Her head fell back and her mouth surrendered itself to him. She tunneled her fingers through his hair.
Assured of his conquest, he slowed down, gentled. He released the wad of cloth in his hand and with the other lifted the sweatshirt until her breasts were bare against his shirt. He sighed her name when his hand covered the warm fullness. His thumb coaxed her nipple to a hard peak.
“… feel so good …” he mumbled incoherently.
“Oh, Hunter, yes.” She pressed the sides of his face between her palms as their mouths fused.
He covered as much of her fanny as he could with one widespread hand and lifted her tight against him. She came up on bare toes to fit herself to his hardness. His tongue repeatedly dipped into the hot sweetness of her mouth. The kiss was unashamedly evocative and she moaned.