Conscience (The Bellator Saga Book 2) (23 page)

The Past

Plane went up, plane went down. SUV drove north, south, east, west. When you were stuck in a moving vehicle all day, mileage didn’t matter. Trapped in a never-ending loop of terrible transportation, Caroline knew it wasn’t as bad as it could be. She chose her campaign outings carefully while Jack had to go to every single one. She preferred the county fairs, the manufactured pep rallies, the benign factory tours. But she wasn’t the one giving most of the speeches. She just got to sit on the stage or stand next to Jack and look pretty.

Lehigh County was a short distance from Philadelphia, but they’d been flying all over the state all day. Therefore, they were crammed inside Jack’s corporate jet. She hadn’t misheard him in the hospital. It had been a purely business move at first, purchased when his portfolio started to expand and his need for cross country travel grew more frequent. It was suitable for campaign jaunts from town to town, when the distance was greater and timelines were short. He used a bus for shorter trips.

Her husband owned a plane. Sometimes Caroline wasn’t sure whether her life was real.

She curled up next to Jack, ignoring the sunset through the window. The man in the seat next to her was much more visually alluring than anything else she might be looking at. “I like Allentown.”

Jack sighed and put his briefing book on the floor. “You know, you don’t have to sing that Billy Joel song
every
time we go there,” he said.

“Yes, I do,” Caroline said. “I love that song. Hey, can we go to the Just Born factory the next time we’re in Bethlehem?”

“Do you just Google random facts about the towns we visit?”

“I do not,” Caroline said. “And I resent the accusation.”

He stared at her. She’d have to work on her snooty self-righteous tone.

“Sometimes I do,” she admitted. “But I’ve known about that Peeps factory since I was a kid. You’d better take me to the Chocolate World on your next trip to Hershey. That’s one factory tour I don’t want to miss.”

“Are you going to eat chocolate the entire time we’re there?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s probably not the best use of your time.”

“Says you.”

Jack grinned at her. “Remember that time I fed you chocolate while you were tied to the bed?”

Caroline wasn’t a huge fan of food as foreplay, but she made exceptions for chocolate, strawberries, and whipped cream. She glanced around the plane. There were staffers everywhere, even if they were all busying themselves with tasks for the next day’s events. “Really, Jack. Someone might be listening.”

“Oh, they can’t hear us. Calm down.” He winked at her. “I remember what I did to you afterward, too. Magic Wands are fun. I really need to get around to sending a thank you note to the product developers at Hitachi.”

She shushed him again. “Seriously. Stop.”

“I thought you were going to tap out, but you stuck with it.” He shook his head. “So many orgasms. I was banking on you using your safe word for sure.”

She shoved him in the upper arm. “For God’s sake. Your campaign people don’t need to know that I have a safe word.”

“They can’t hear us,” he reiterated. “It’s too loud in here and they’re working on political crap.”

“You don’t know that. Some of them give me the side eye every time they see me. I just know they’re thinking about what happened in Pittsburgh.”

“You need to stop dwelling on that, sweetheart.”

“The media hasn’t.”

“Well, fuck them.”

As if she hadn’t used that expression a million times lately. “I’m the liberal floozy trying to undermine traditional American values. Can’t you see that?”

“No, you’re the sexy wife trying to fuck her husband.”

“That’s your opinion.”

Jack sighed again. “Caroline, you used to never, ever pay attention to pundits or blogs. And now you’re almost obsessed with them. Why is that?”

Some of the more radical blogs seemed to waver between grandiose pronouncements on the perverse nature of their sex life and the somewhat inconsistent and illogical conclusion that Caroline and Jack were both stunningly, flamingly gay and their marriage was one of convenience. Neither theory made any sense, therefore both had gained traction with internet crazies.

Caroline tried not to complain about such things, but Jack was required to listen to her. “I’ve never been talked about this way before.”

He seemed to know what she was dwelling on. “And you need to let it go. Fringe people have no influence on the voters at all. You’re letting the small stuff bother you.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re a man. The media and the internet never attack men the way they attack women. Fact.”

“False,” Jack said. “I’ve had to deal with a lot of crap, too. Let. It. Go.”

Caroline saw no reason to prolong the disagreement. He’d never give in because he also had a point. “It’s hard sometimes,” she said.

“I know.” He ran his thumb over the back of her hand, kissing her lightly on the lips. She knew he wanted to do more than that but they tried not to do too much in front of his prudish staffers. “You have to stop dwelling on things you can’t control.”

“I can’t help it. I hate that part of the game.”

“I know. I don’t like it either.” He let one arm slip around her shoulder and pulled her to him. “Tell you what, I could give you a nice back rub when we get home.”

He had more than that in mind. She could tell. “And what else?”

“I thought you were worried that my staffers were listening in.”

She’d take the odds. “What else?”

“I could tie you to the bed again.”

An intriguing proposition. “Go on.”

“I could do that thing you like with my tongue.”

“I’m listening.”

“And then leave you hanging while I went for a drive in that Jaguar convertible of mine you’ve been lusting after.”

Caroline thumped his chest with her fist. “Be nice.”

“I thought it sounded appropriately sadistic.”

“I’m not a masochist.”

“You seem to like rug burn. And padded cuffs.”

She tried not to laugh. “I’m not talking to you anymore. And since when do we have padded cuffs?”

“Since…never mind,” Jack said.

“I was going to make you a nice sandwich and go down on you at the dinner table but now I’ve changed my mind,” Caroline said.

“You forgot to add a ‘harrumph’ when you said that.”

“I thought it. Same thing.”

“Always a lady.”

She let out a short laugh. “I hope no one is eavesdropping on us.”

“I doubt it. The acoustics in this passenger cabin are abysmal.”

“It’s your plane. Buy a new one.”

“You certainly have taken a liking to my many toys.”

Caroline gave him a charming grin. “You’re my favorite toy.”

Jack laughed. “Sweetheart, you’re awful.”

“I was saving that one up. You’re not the only one with the cheesy lines.”

“My delivery is ten times better than yours.” He kissed her. “What kind of sandwich were you going to make me?”

“Whatever you want. Or whatever’s in the house,” she qualified. “I’m not running out to get you some fancy cheese or anything.”

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “I don’t want food. I’m hungry for something else.”

“Your delivery for
that
line sucks. What the hell are you doing with your face?”

Jack crossed his eyes. “Turning you on?”

She let him bring her into his arms for a big bear hug. “I love you,” she said softly.

“I know.”

“I like you, too.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re fun to be around.”

“I think some of the people on this plane would beg to differ with you.”

“They don’t know you like I do.”

“You’re right,” he whispered. “They don’t. And I prefer to keep it that way.”

His true personality was a well-kept secret, and she knew him better than anyone else. “I like having part of you all to myself.”

“I like knowing that you do.”

He’d let his political guard down enough that Caroline knew she could work in a compliment. “You gave some good speeches today.”

“You were actually listening?”

“Pretending to pay attention is far more difficult than actually paying attention.”

“Feel like changing any of your own policy positions?”

He’d focused mostly on tax cuts and other popular Republican approaches to economic growth. She wouldn’t be changing anything. “Let’s not go crazy, now.”

“How can you say I gave a good speech if you don’t agree with it?”

“I am an objective observer of well-plotted prose.”

Jack laughed. “You’re really full of it. You know that?”

She tugged at his tie, continuing to rest her head on his chest. “Only sometimes.”

He stroked her hair, one of his favorite affectionate gestures. They must have looked a pair, the two of them wrapped up together at the front of the plane. “I think we’re attracting attention,” he said. “Is that okay?”

She felt comfortable enough that she was tempted to crawl onto his lap and thumb her nose at his staffers. But she couldn’t give in to her poor judgment, no matter how exhausted she was. “Fine with me.”

He chuckled again. She liked feeling the rumble of his laughter against her ear. “I never know what to make of you,” he said. “You change positions so often, you’re like a damn emotional whirlwind.”

“Good. I like keeping you on your toes.”             

The plane dipped. They were close to the airport. A wonderfully short flight at the end of a very long day.

“Almost home.” Jack squeezed her tighter. “Just you and me, for the rest of the night.”

Caroline still wasn’t a huge fan of air travel. If they took several trips a day she couldn’t dope herself up, which was her preferred method of dealing with anxiety. Jack would hold her if she got uneasy when they were flying, especially during descents. His executive jet wasn’t nearly as good at smooth landings as a giant commercial flight, but she was unnaturally picky about such things. When he draped his arms around her during takeoffs and landings, she truly didn’t give a shit what his staffers thought.

She let herself relax against his chest, glad to have him to herself for the few precious hours before the campaign took him away again. “Good.”

The Past

Ellen Goldman had a huge lead and a solid lock on her seat in the United States Senate but fundraisers and campaign events were still a fact of life, no matter how secure the political position. She insisted that Caroline still speak at one of the fundraisers she’d planned in Beverly Hills that July, although she made her promise to behave if Jack came along. The two of them had a reputation for being a little too lovey dovey in public when they had a few drinks in them. All the tabloid stories in the world wouldn’t change that aspect of their relationship.

Jack and Caroline arrived in Beverly Hills a few hours before the fundraiser. He took her to Rodeo Drive first. She’d been there once sightseeing, never quite gathering enough chutzpah to step inside any of the stores.  Mostly because she was afraid they’d take one look at her and know that she didn’t belong there, even if it was a tourist haven. She expressed those concerns to Jack, who explained to her that things had changed. Walking into an expensive jewelry store as a member of Congress on the arm of a multi-millionaire was much different than when she traveled to Los Angeles as a young, impoverished prosecutor. Jack bought her a ruby necklace, which she now wore along with a lovely new tastefully low cut dress. She tried not to get used to being spoiled, even if Jack enjoyed doing it.

Thankfully his staffers were nowhere to be found since this was Caroline’s show. They had ridden down to the fundraiser alone, making sure to stand several feet apart as a joke. One never knew if there were cameras in the elevator. There had been an unspoken policy in place the past month or so. Caroline and Jack were not allowed alone in any elevators, nor were they allowed to have more than one or two drinks a night while attending their own functions. A frustrating rule since Caroline hated fundraisers and preferred to get through them by not being entirely sober.

She found the media perpetually aggravating; the press couldn’t have cared less about normal people feeling each other up on the way back to their hotel room, and she had no idea how any of their private behavior was relevant to Jack’s campaign. The incident had soured what proved to be a very enjoyable evening once they got back to their room. And now she couldn’t kiss her husband in public and she couldn’t have her Moscato, which made her very unpleasant at times.

“It’s nice that your little minions aren’t hassling us,” Caroline said.

“They’ll be back from Sacramento later and you’ll still have to deal with them tomorrow.”

“Does that mean we get to make out in the elevator tonight? I checked. No cameras.”

“That you could see,” Jack said. “Big Brother is everywhere. And as much as I appreciated that elevator ride in Pittsburgh, I’m willing to wait until we get back to the room tonight.”

“You can hold out for that long?”

“I know you’ll put out.”

“Yes, and the entire country knows I put out. Frequently.”

Jack grinned. “Which makes me pretty damn happy. They know you wear a garter belt too.”

“Thanks for reminding me.” Yet another thing the camera had captured. Even the grainiest of footage showed a lot more than she had intended.

Caroline felt yet another surge of relief that the hotel they’d been staying at that night hadn’t been taller.  She had come very close to getting down on her knees and doing something to Jack that would have made the rest of her career in Congress an absolute nightmare. She had been much more intoxicated than she realized. Getting caught on camera blowing her husband wouldn’t have boded well for her potential future as the first lady of a major Rust Belt state, either. Funny how Jack hadn’t been the subject of nearly as many offensive blog postings and internet comments as she had.

She knew that when it came to the simpletons on the internet, women could only fall into two categories: virgin or whore. And possibly (once they became old and used up) crone. Even though the man she’d been fooling around with was her husband and they had every right to do whatever the two of them wanted, she was seemingly the whore. Better than being a crone, but not by much.

Meanwhile Jack was portrayed as a very fortunate man. It hadn’t helped when he’d said as much at a press conference after the story broke. He was a lucky man married to a loose woman who did nothing but have sex and occasionally sponsor legislation. What a fucking double standard.

They were walking down the empty hall to the ballroom when Jack spun her up against the wall. “When we get back to our room I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to feel me with every move you make tomorrow,” he whispered into her hair.

She laughed lightly. “Perverted old man. Saying something like that right before I’m going to give a speech.”

“Just giving you something to think about,” he said. “If I wasn’t concerned about hidden cameras in the elevators I’d stop between floors and fuck you there too.”

“I’d do it if I didn’t think it would give those damn pundits and misogynistic male bloggers something else to leer over. And it may not be very gubernatorial,” she said. “I’m trying to be more of a lady. It doesn’t seem very ladylike to let you rip off my panties and have your way with me inside an elevator car.”

Jack laughed. “Says you.”

He pressed his hands against her backside, rubbing his palms against the soft material of her dress. Caroline knew what kind of mood he was in.

“Naughty girls get spanked,” he said in a low voice.

She smiled seductively and tugged on his tie. “Don’t make promises you won’t keep.”

“You know I’m good for it,” he breathed, squeezing her ass.

He wasn’t lying. He always followed through on what he promised in bed, as long as they both consented to it. If he was true to his word, Caroline would have a very uncomfortable flight back to Philadelphia the next day. But it would be worth it. She got excited thinking about what the rest of the evening might bring.

She brought her lips close to his. “If the public only knew, Mr. McIntyre. The dirty, nasty things you do to your wife when you know for certain that no one else is around.”

“They’re almost always at Mrs. McIntyre’s request,” Jack said, kissing her softly. “Even if they’re borderline illegal in some states. I live to make her happy.”

“I know you do,” Caroline whispered.

She wrapped one of her legs around him subtly so that no one else could see. One of her more effective tricks. She pressed up against his hip and kissed him, feeling him start to get hard.

“You’re not playing fair,” Jack said against her mouth.

“That’s what you get for distracting me,” she said silkily. “Now you’ve got something to focus on for the rest of the night. I’m going to be very, very bad. Be ready.”

He reluctantly slid his hands off her ass. “I’m always ready.”

Caroline heard voices nearby and practically jumped away from him. “I’ll see you in the ballroom, Jack,” she said in a loud singsong voice. She turned around and winked at him before striding down the hall, leaving him with a dazed grin on his face.

*              *              *              *              *

Jack wanted to give Ellen a huge, platonic hug, so Caroline dragged him along to the little mini-meeting they had planned before they walked on stage together. Ellen, who had been thrilled to see them both, didn’t waste any time laying down the law.

“No politically incorrect jokes,” she said.

“Shit,” Caroline said. “That’s half my damn speech.”

“It can’t be. Surely you can work in some economic populism or something.”

“I can charm my way through the offensive stuff.”

“Populism and social responsibility. That’s what we agreed on.”

It was, and those were the topics Caroline planned to cover. But messing with Ellen was one of her favorite pursuits. “I thought we agreed on tasteless juvenile humor and penis jokes. How can I be expected to keep all your requests straight?”

“That text message was meant in jest, as you well know.”

Senator Goldman was nervous, because she sounded a little panicked. Caroline decided to keep going. “What about razzing on your rich donors? I wrote up a little routine for us. I got us top hats and monocles and everything.”

Ellen gave her an exasperated look. “Caroline, really. And where the hell are your notes?”

She tapped her temple. “It’s all in here.”

Ellen threw her hands up in the air. “Well, I’m screwed. Is it possible to lose money at a Beverly Hills fundraiser? I’ve never heard of it happening, but anything is possible.”

Caroline grinned at her. She wouldn’t give Ellen such a hard time if she didn’t know that the other woman secretly enjoyed it. “I have this really good line about Jews in Hollywood. Can I use that?”

Ellen glared at her. “
Caroline
,
honestly.”

Jack cut in. “She’s also got this great joke about a priest and a rabbi. They walk into a bar, see, and one of them is carrying a tiny piano and…”

“And what?” Ellen asked.

“I don’t remember. I was actually hoping you’d interrupt me before I got much further.”

Ellen laughed. Her panic had given way to amusement. “You two are ridiculous. I’m not inviting you to any more fundraisers.”

“Jack’s been helping me with my speeches lately,” Caroline said. “He knows all the good lines.”

“Is that why you’ve started focusing on tax cuts and destroying the environment?” Ellen asked.

Jack adjusted his tie. “We don’t
need
trees. Or clean water.”

“What about all the stuff I have about your secret misandrist plan to throw off the shackles of our oppressors and take over the Senate in your second term?” Caroline asked.

Ellen rolled her eyes. “Cut it out.”

“But that’s the other half of my speech.”

“Seriously. Just go in there and say how much you love me. And how much you love my ideas on how to strengthen the economy.”

“You expect me to lie?”

Ellen switched her attention to Jack. “Does she act like this on the campaign trail?”

Jack gave her the most beleaguered look he could manage. “All the damn time.”

“And your staffers haven’t tired of it?”

He smiled at her. “No comment.”

“His campaign manager doesn’t like me,” Caroline announced.

“That’s not true,” Jack said. “Greg just finds you a little too progressive and headstrong for his tastes.”

“That’s code for strident feminist bitch,” Caroline said to Ellen in a stage whisper.

“You left out man-hating,” Ellen said mildly.

“Oh, yes. That too.”

Ellen frowned. “Regardless, that’s still not terribly flattering.”

“I know,” Jack said. “He’s a work in progress.”

Ellen patted his shoulder affectionately. “At least
you’re
learning.”

“I can be taught.” Jack winked at Caroline. “My wife says I’m a reasonably decent student of gender theory.”

“He’s also good at sex,” Caroline said.

Ellen sighed. “Are you two going to go the entire night without making a single serious comment?”

Jack put his arm around her. “That’s the goal.”

“I plan on being as facetious as possible,” Caroline said. “It’s the only way you’ll learn, as you said, not to invite us to any more fundraisers.”

Ellen glanced over Caroline’s shoulder. “Daniel just arrived. Can he hang out with you tonight, Jack? He hates these things and I have to work the damn crowd all evening. You can talk about all the things men talk about when their wives aren’t around.”

“Boobies,” Caroline said.

“Tentacle porn,” Jack said.

Ellen shook her head again. “You two. Someone help me get through the next few hours. And the correct answer is dinosaur erotica.”

“I like her,” Jack said to Caroline.

“So do I. Does that mean I get to hang out with you all night?” Caroline asked Ellen.

“I need you to flirt with all the donors.” Ellen turned to Jack. “If that’s okay?”

His lips turned up ever so slightly, and Caroline felt him pinch her ass. Of course Ellen was kidding, but still. She had absolutely no idea what the two of them had planned once the night came to a close.

“That’s fine,” he said.

“All right,” Ellen said. “Let’s get you situated, Caroline, before you really do change your entire speech.”

Caroline kissed Jack on the cheek. She’d string Ellen along for just a bit longer before she clued her in on what she really planned to say during her time at the podium. “You and Daniel have fun finding tasteful gifs on Tumblr,” she told him.

He just laughed.

*              *              *              *              *

They behaved themselves when it came to alcohol, with only three drinks between them by the end of the night. Caroline spoke to as many younger men as possible, hoping that Jack was keeping an eye on her. The men all laughed at her jokes and enjoyed her sports small talk. Several of them appeared to be quite pleased that her husband was on the other side of the room while they were chatting. Fools, the lot of them. She’d never cross the line, and Jack knew that.