DUTCH AND GINA: AFTER THE FALL

DUTCH AND GINA:

AFTER THE FALL

MALLORY MONROE

c2012

All rights reserved. Any use of the materials contained in this book

without the expressed written consent of the author and/or her affiliates,

is strictly prohibited.

AUSTIN BROOK PUBLISHING

This novel is a work of fiction. All characters are fictitious. Any

similarities to anyone living or dead are completely accidental. The

specific mention of known places or venues are not meant to be exact

replicas of those places, but are purposely embellished or imagined for

the story’s sake.

MORE INTERRACIAL ROMANCE

FROM BESTSELLING AUTHOR

MALLORY MONROE:

DUTCH AND GINA:

A SCANDAL IS BORN

THE PRESIDENT’S GIRLFRIEND 2:

HIS WOMEN AND HIS WIFE

THE PRESIDENT’S GIRLFRIEND

MOB BOSS 2:

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

ROMANCING THE MOB BOSS

ROMANCING HER PROTECTOR

ROMANCING THE BULLDOG

IF YOU WANTED THE MOON

AND

FROM BESTSELLING AUTHOR

KATHERINE CACHITORIE:

LOVING THE HEAD MAN

LOVING THE HEAD MAN

SOME CAME DESPERATE: A LOVE SAGA

WHEN WE GET MARRIED

ADDITIONAL

BESTSELLING

INTERRACIAL ROMANCE:

A SPECIAL RELATIONSHIP

YVONNE THOMAS

AND

BACK TO HONOR:

A REGGIE REYNOLDS

ROMANTIC MYSTERY

JT WATSON

COMING SOON

MORE INTERRACIAL ROMANCE

FROM

MALLORY MONROE

AND

JT WATSON:

ROMANCING REGGIE REYNOLDS

ALSO ROMANTIC FICTION

FROM

AWARD-WINNING

AND

BESTSELLING AUTHOR

TERESA MCCLAIN-WATSON:

AFTER WHAT YOU DID

STAY IN MY CORNER

DINO AND NIKKI:

AFTER REDEMPTION

Visit

www.austinbrookpublishing.com

for more information

on all romance titles

ONE

It was his first workout in over two weeks and he was determined to push himself to near the breaking point, even if it meant stretching every muscle in his body. From the treadmill to the ab crunch to the power rack, he was slowly but surely regaining his strength.

With every run, with every squeeze, with every li he wanted to wipe the floor with all of those pundits in Washington who declared that Dutch Harber was through, and wasn’t coming back.

When he finally finished, when his body couldn’t take another run, squeeze, or li , he stood in the middle of the gym, his hands on his hips, and smiled that bright white, full thro led smile that could charm birds from trees. From his sleeveless jersey to his Spandex compression shorts, the sweat poured from his tanned, ripped body as if he had been drenched in rain.

But he loved it. He was s ll recovering in Florida on the estate of his good friend Crader McKenzie, at the onsite gym, and was feeling like his old self again for the first time since that frightful night.

Crader, who had been working out too, tossed him a towel and a bo led water when they finally called it quits. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was tossing the towel and water to Walter “Dutch” Harber, the President of the United States, and Secret Service agents blanketed his estate like unrepentant ground moles, it would feel like Crader’s normal morning routine. His shorts and jersey, in fact, were as drenched as Dutch’s.

“How you feel, old man?” he jokingly asked the president as they headed for the shower stalls, his smile only enhancing an already cap va ngly handsome face.

Dutch snorted at his old man reference. “I feel heavenly,” he said and drained down nearly half the bo led water. “I feel like I can run a marathon right about now.”

“Yeah, right. Over Gina’s dead body.”

Dutch laughed. “ There’s that,” he said as he continued to walk.

Crader, however, touched him on the arm, stopping his progression.

“ To that point,” Crader said delicately, “how is she

“ To that point,” Crader said delicately, “how is she
really
doing?”

Dutch’s smile slowly dissolved into a kind of controlled anxiousness. For a moment he just stood there, as he o en did when his mind was deep in thought, a brooding look appearing in his intense green eyes. As president he knew there were precious few people he could talk candidly with without fear of the conversa on ending up in the newspapers. Crader McKenzie was one of those people.

“I’m s ll worried about her,” he admi ed. “Some moments she’s fine, her old self. Other mes she’s as vulnerable as our son. She’s been greatly trauma zed by all of this.”

Crader understood. “Just two weeks ago, on that crazy-ass night, she didn’t know if her child was dead or alive. And then for you to collapse from the stress that very same night,” Crader added and shook his head. “ That night would have trauma zed anybody.

I’m just amazed both of you are handling it as well as you are.”

Dutch wasn’t sure if they were handling it at all. It was more a case of buckling down and ge ng through it. “I think we’re making progress,” he said to his friend, “but the wounds are deep.”

“And now you have to drag her off to Europe for that G-8 Summit, which is the polar opposite of rest and relaxation. As First Lady she’ll have as many func ons to attend as you have.”

Dutch regre ably agreed. “If the United States wasn’t the world’s largest economy in the midst of all of this economic downturn across the globe, and I absolutely had to a end, I wouldn’t dream of taking her away from here right now.”

“She can always stay with me, Dutch, you know that. A er what happened two weeks ago on my own estate, the Secret Service has this place more for fied than Fort Knox.”

Dutch smiled. He knew Crader’s estate was completely safe, that was why he decided to leave for Europe from here instead of going back to Washington first where he and Gina would be subjected to all of that

background

noise

and

Monday

morning

quarterbacking.

“I know she’ll be safe here, Cray,” he assured his friend, “and you know I’m grateful for all you’ve done for us. But you don’t know my wife. If she decides she wants to leave this for fied estate and do her own thing, you nor any agent of the Secret Service will be able to stop her. Not one of you.”

Crader smiled. “Can you stop her?”

Dutch had to think about this. “I do believe I’m the only human being on the face of this earth who can,” he finally said, promp ng both men to laugh and begin heading, once again, for the shower stalls.

Chris an Bale, an aide to the First Lady and a young man Dutch loved like a son, entered the gym as the two men were just passing the entrance on their way to the stalls on the opposite side of the massive room.

Chris an’s big blue eyes stretched wider when he realized that they weren’t over on the workout equipment, as he had expected to find them, but was right upon him.

“Oh, excuse me, sir,” he said disarmingly, his nerves often on edge while in Dutch’s presence.

“Well, hello there,” Dutch said with a grand smile, glad to see the young man.

Chris an relaxed when he saw that smile. “Hello, sir, and I didn’t mean to interrupt, but Ms. Sinclair has arrived on Ruth Island and requests permission to meet with you. Oh, and hello, Senator McKenzie.” Crader, a former United States Senator who was s ll Crader, a former United States Senator who was s ll addressed by that tle, frowned. “Liz Sinclair is here?

On my estate?”

“Yes, sir,” Christian replied.

“What the hell does she want?”

Chris an looked bewildered, as if he had done something wrong. It was an almost debilita ng flaw of his that made Dutch very protective of him.

“Did she say why she wanted to meet with us, Chris?” he asked the young man.

“No, sir,” Chris an said, preferring to address the president rather than the hard-charging Crader McKenzie. “But she did say it was urgent, sir.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Crader said with li le sympathy.

“I’ll tell her what she can do with her urgency.”

“Liz doesn’t play games,” Dutch said in her defense.

And then he looked at his friend. “At least not that kind.”

Crader felt awash in shame when Dutch looked at him and made his comment. Just a couple weeks ago he had allowed Liz Sinclair to pleasure him at a me when he and Lore a “LaLa” King, the First Lady’s best friend and assistant, were sexually involved and trying to build on their rela onship. His decision to go there with Liz le the president disappointed in both of his friends.

“Bring her here to the gym,” Dutch said to Chris an, anxious to keep her out of LaLa and Gina’s eyesight, but also curious to hear what she had to say.

“Yes, sir,” Christian said and hurried out.

Dutch walked over to the si ng area inside the now quiet gym, as he wiped the sweat from his face and drained down his remaining water. Crader also moved over and sat beside his friend. He s ll felt as if he had some explaining to do.

“I know you didn’t like what I did with Liz,” he said.

“I’m s ll kicking myself over it too. I didn’t mean for it to go that far, I declare I didn’t. She was there, offering it up, so I took it. Yes, I took it. But it was so strange.

It was like I knew it was wrong, but at the same me I didn’t think it was that big a deal. I didn’t realize what damage I was causing.”

Dutch, however, was unconvinced. “Had you slept with Loretta prior to fucking Liz?”

Crader became defensive. “I didn’t fuck her,” he made clear. “She gave me head, that’s all.” Dutch didn’t respond. How a man Crader’s age could believe that oral sex was somehow more excusable annoyed him.

Crader saw that annoyance and answered the president’s original ques on. “Yes,” he said. “Me and LaLa had slept together twice before I fooled around with Liz.”

“ Then you knew exactly what you were doing,” Dutch said. “And given the kind of woman Lore a is, you knew exactly what damage it would cause.” Crader ran his hand through his mop of shaggy brownish-blonde hair, crea ng a piled high, disorderly mane. “I’ve never been a one-woman kind of man, you know that.”

“Neither had I,” Dutch admi ed. “Un ll I met Gina.

If you love someone, you aren’t going to pull that shit on them.”

“Ah, come on, Dutch. Are you telling me you’ve never been tempted since you’ve been with Gina?”

“Of course I’ve been tempted,” Dutch snapped.

“Almost daily I’m tempted. Women are my weakness and always have been. Probably always will be. And I usually find myself a racted to the absolute wrong ones, I feel you, Crader, believe me I do. But when you find that right one, you have got to make a stand.

Either you’re going to con nue sleeping around, or get Either you’re going to con nue sleeping around, or get your act together.”

Crader placed his bo led water against his face.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Did I say it was simple?”

Crader waited for Dutch to say more, but he didn’t go there. He and Dutch both were private men who didn’t take pleasure in emo onally exposing themselves. But Crader didn’t know where else to turn. He had hurt LaLa so deeply, and Dutch and Gina loved LaLa. Who else could he talk to?

But it s ll wasn’t an easy conversa on. He decided to back-door it. “Why do you like Liz Sinclair so much?” he asked the president.

“She’s a friend,” Dutch replied.

“I understand that. But she’s a whore of the first order too, you realize that?”

Dutch didn’t respond. Liz was a flawed woman, of course he realized that. But because she was the female version of the hit and run specialist he used to be, and that Crader s ll was, didn’t lessen his affec on for her. She wasn’t hi ng and running on Dutch. They didn’t have that kind of rela onship. “She’s a friend,” was all he finally said about it.

Crader exhaled. Dutch wasn’t going to make it any easier. “LaLa still isn’t speaking to me,” he said.

Dutch snorted. “I wonder why.”

“But what can I do? I did something dumb, I admit I did something royally stupid. But is she going to hold it against me forever? Because of that one stupid, foolish move is it over just like that?” Dutch looked at his friend. “Do you want to commit to her? Because that’s what it’s going to take. A commitment. Not that shit you’ve been pulling all of your life. She’s not going to be your arm candy at social functions or your freak in the bedroom. She’s not that kind of lady, and you will not treat her as that kind of lady.”

“I don’t want to treat her that way,” Crader replied, slightly offended. “But it’s like figh ng history for me when it comes to commi ng to one woman. And I mean history from way back. My great-grandfather was a womanizer. My grandfather was a womanizer. I know my father was one. Hell, when I was a kid he used to take me along with him, telling my mother we were going for a ride around town but we’d always end up at some slum apartment with some female somewhere. They’d leave me up front listening to them banging in the back. Night a er night I endured this.