First Lady (34 page)

“Honor and politics aren’t words you hear in the same sentence very often.”

She met his skepticism head-on. “It’s an honor to be given the people’s trust. An honor to serve. Every once in a while, I even think about—” Appalled, she broke off.

“Tell me.”

“There’s nothing more to say.”

“Come on. I’ve seen you naked.” He gave her a crooked smile.

“That doesn’t mean you’re going to see into my head.”

He’d always been too perceptive where she was concerned, and a strange alertness came over him. “I’ll be damned. Hillary Clinton’s not the only one. You’re thinking about running for office yourself, aren’t you?”

She nearly knocked over her wine goblet. How could a person she’d known for such a short time understand something she hadn’t completely articulated even to herself? “No. I’m not thinking about it at all. I’ve . . . well, I’ve thought about it, but . . . not really.”

“Tell me.”

His intensity made her wish she’d never started this.

“Chicken.”

She was so tired of always being cautious, and she wanted to talk, damn it! Maybe it was time to give these vague ideas a little fresh air. “Well . . . I’m not serious about this, but I’ve thought about it a little.”

“More than a little, I’ll bet.”

“Just these past few months.” She met those penetrating gray eyes. “I’ve been an inside observer for most of my life—living right at the heart of power, but not having any real power myself. I’ve had influence, sure, but no real authority to fix things. Still, there are some advantages to being an observer.”

“Such as?”

“I’ve watched the very best and worst we have. I’ve seen their successes and failures, and I’ve learned from them.”

“What have you learned?”

“That this country is in crisis. That we don’t have enough politicians who are either willing or able to make the hard calls.”

“But you are?”

She considered it, then nodded. “Yes. Yes, I think I am.”

He regarded her thoughtfully. “Where would you start?”

So she told him. Not all of her ideas—that would have taken hours—but some of them. The more she talked, the more excited she got, and the more she believed in what she was saying.

He began to look slightly dazed. “You’ve got the quirkiest politics of anyone I know. Left wing here, right wing there, then middle of the road. It’s a wonder you can walk straight.”

“I’ve never believed in labels. I only believe in looking at what’s best for the country. Partisan politics have stolen our legislators’ backbones.”

“In Washington, real backbone only comes from personal power.”

She smiled. “I know.”

He shook his head. “You’re too much of a featherweight. You lead with your heart. The big boys would chomp you up and spit you out.”

She laughed. “For all your talk, you’re incredibly naive. The big boys have watched me grow up. I’ve sat on their knees and played with their children. They’ve patted me on the head and danced at my wedding. I’m one of their own.”

“All that gets you is patronized.”

“You forget that I hold trump.”

“What do you mean?”

She picked up her wineglass, took a slow sip while she thought it over, then set it down. “I’m a national icon.”

For a long time, he simply stared at her. Then he gradually began to soak in what she wasn’t quite ready to put into words. He looked slightly dazed as he leaned back in his chair. “You could really pull it off, couldn’t you?”

She propped her chin on the back of her hand and gazed dreamily off into the distance. “If I set my mind to it, I imagine I could assemble the biggest power base anyone in Washington has ever seen.”

“And like a fairy godmother, use it only for good deeds.”

His cynicism was back, but she didn’t flinch from it. “Exactly.”

“That’s not the way the game’s played.”

“I may be the only person in the country who doesn’t need to play the game. I’ve already won.”

“How do you figure?”

“I’m not ego-driven, and when you take the ego out of the politician, what’s left is a public servant. I have instant, bone-deep credibility.”

“This past week has put a big dent in that.”

“Not if I spin it right.”

“The spin,” he drawled. “I was wondering when we’d get to that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with spin as long as it’s honest. People understand job dissatisfaction. I had to escape a job that was strangling me. That’s something everybody can identify with.”

“A lot more is involved than escaping an unsatisfactory job. There’s the matter of where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing. The press won’t give up until they have the whole story.”

“Believe me, I know more about getting around journalists than you can imagine.”

He began studying the tablecloth.

“You have to trust me, Mat. I love the girls. I’d never let any harm come to them.”

He nodded, but he didn’t look at her.

The waiter arrived with their salads, and she decided it might be best to change the subject. “I’ve gone on and on about myself, but you’ve hardly told me anything about your own work.”

“There’s nothing much to tell. Do you want a roll?” He picked up the green wicker basket the waiter had brought earlier.

“No, thanks. Do you like your job?”

“I guess I’m going through a career crisis right now.” He shifted his weight and no longer looked so comfortable in the small chair.

“Maybe I can help.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Candor only works one way, is that it? I tell you all my secrets, but you hold yours back.”

“I’m not too proud of some of my secrets.”

She’d never seen him look so serious.

He set down his fork and pushed away his salad. “There’s something we need to talk about. Something I have to tell you.”

Her stomach sank. She knew exactly what he was going to say, and she didn’t want to hear it.

M
AT HAD TO
tell her the truth. he’d known that last night.

“You don’t have to worry,” she said. “I may be naive about some things, but I understand about last night.”

He frowned as he tried to switch mental gears. His big story had just gotten bigger with the revelation that she was thinking about running for public office, but that made no difference. She needed to hear what he did for a living.

Just thinking about the way she was going to react made his tongue clumsy. “Last night? That wasn’t what I meant. I need to— Exactly what do you think you understand about last night?”

The waiter chose that moment to appear with their entrees. After they were served, Mat leaned back in his chair. “Go on. I want to hear what you have to say about last night.”

“Why don’t you go first?”

“You’re having second thoughts, aren’t you?”

“And third and fourth,” she said. “What about you?”

There was a good reason for him to have second thoughts, but it bothered him to know that she was, too. “My only thought is that Lucy and that baby had better be asleep when we get back so we can head right for the bedroom.”

“Just get to it, is that it?”

“Yes.” He blocked out what he had to tell her. Soon. Before they finished their dinner. “Don’t try to pretend you don’t want the same thing. Remember that I was there last night. Besides, you’ve been looking at me all evening as if I’m dessert.”

“I have not! Well, maybe I have, but it’s only because you’ve been doing that eye thing.”

“What eye thing would that be?”

“You know what eye thing.” A haughty little sniff. “Where you trickled them all over me while I’m talking.”

“Trickling eyes. Nice image.”

“Don’t play dumb. You know what I mean.”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” He smiled and drank in the sight of her. The First Lady of the United States of America had gotten dressed up just for him.

She wore that orange maternity dress as if it were a designer original, and the little beaded necklace thing was the sexiest piece of jewelry he’d ever seen. The tiny heart that dangled from it nestled in the hollow of her throat, one of the many places he’d kissed last night. She was a woman in a class by herself, but, even though he was a writer, he didn’t know how to say everything he was feeling out loud, so he got to the main point.

“Have I told you that you look beautiful and that I can’t wait to make love with you?”

“Not with words you haven’t.”

“The trickling eyes?”

“You bet.”

His urge to tease faded, and he touched her hand. “I got a little carried away last night. You’re all right, aren’t you?”

“More than all right. But thanks for asking.”

He stroked her palm with his fingertips, urged himself to tell her the truth right now . . . right this minute . . .

Believe me, I know more about getting around journalists than you can imagine.

He visualized those beautiful blue eyes—as blue as the sky on an American flag—clouding over when they heard what he really did for a living.

He reached across the table and touched the very tip of her finger. “Tonight . . . if things start going too fast for you, I want you to say something.”

“So you can stop?”

“Are you kidding? I want to hear you beg.”

She laughed, then slipped her hand under his and stroked his palm. A rush of heat shot through his bloodstream. He reminded himself that it wasn’t as if he’d been keeping this a secret from her for weeks. He’d learned who she was less than forty-eight hours ago.

“I didn’t know it could be like this.” Her voice held a husky note that no news footage had ever captured. “Lusty and crazy, but still funny.”

“It can be whatever we want it to be.”

“Sex has always seemed so serious to me.” She withdrew her hand. “So . . . difficult.”

He didn’t want to hear about her relationship with Case, not when he hadn’t told her the truth. “You probably shouldn’t tell me too many secrets.”

She didn’t like that. “What are the rules here, Mat? I don’t have your depth of experience with casual affairs.” Like the skilled politician she was, she’d leaned on the words so he’d feel their sting. “Maybe you’d better spell out what you want to say.”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with rules. It’s . . .” His deception was eating away at him, and he tried to ease into the subject. “What if you were to confide in me about something? Something you don’t want the world to know. Like the fact that you’re thinking about running for office.”
Like the fact that your husband was gay
, but he didn’t say that. “How do you know you can trust me to keep your secrets?”

“Because you would. You have the most overdeveloped sense of responsibility of anyone I know.” She surprised him by smiling. “You charge through life like a bull, butting at people with your horns, intimidating everybody with your size. You paw the ground, and snort at the wind, and roar at everybody who displeases you. But you always do the right thing. And because of that, I trust you.”

She was ripping a hole right through him. He had to tell her.

Her patrician nose shot back up in the air. “Are you afraid I’m going to attach more importance to last night than I should? I’m not that naive. I understand that this is only about sex.”

She’d finally given him a target to deflect his guilt, and he lowered his voice to a furious whisper. “What kind of talk is that from a woman who’s supposed to be this country’s moral beacon?”

“It’s realistic talk.”

He should be grateful that she understood how this kind of relationship worked, but he snapped at her instead. “Well, that just goes to show what you know. Now I suggest you eat the rest of that fish before it gets cold.”

He was the one who hadn’t touched his dinner, not her, but she didn’t call him on it. He forced himself to pick up his knife and cut a bite of steak. Just as determinedly, he turned the conversation in a less personal direction. She went along with him, but he suspected she was just biding her time.

They finished their dinner and declined dessert but not coffee. Just as he was taking his first sip, he felt the toe of her shoe stroke his calf.

“Are you going to take all night to drink that?” Her mouth curled in a smile that managed to be both mischievous and provocative.

He leaned back and let his eyes glide over her breasts just to give her a hard time. “What’s the hurry?”

“The hurry, big guy, is that I’ve decided it’s time for you to strut your stuff.”

He nearly devoured her on the spot, but somehow they managed to make it as far as the car. Then his hands were all over her, right there in the front seat of the Explorer.

A truck drove into the parking lot, bringing him to his senses. “We’ve got to get out of here . . .”

“It’s only nine,” she said breathlessly. “Lucy’ll still be up. And Bertis and Charlie may have stayed around to keep her company.”

He threw the car into gear. “Then you’re about to have another new experience.”

He raced out of town, found a narrow road that roughly paralleled the river, then turned down a gravel lane that ended at a small boat ramp. He maneuvered the Explorer past the ramp and into some brush, where he killed his lights, put down the front windows, and turned off the ignition. “I know we’re both a little old for this . . .”