Chapter 74

Deirdre watched in reluctant fascination as a drop followed the curve of his cheekbone, clung to his chin for a moment, and finally splashed onto his wilting collar.

“Like I said, I knew there was no possible way he could come up with the money. Not in two days…not in two months. I thought the added despair would be all we needed to get them to cooperate.”

“You thought? You thought?” St. Claire snarled. “That’s the problem, Goodrich. You don’t fucking think.” He began pacing his study, his face getting redder and redder. “I gave you one simple job—put the pressure on them.”

“I did,” Goodrich whined. “Besides, he’s a nancy boy.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”