Flowerbed of State (25 page)

“No offense, but I already have enough injuries thanks to you,” Turner protested.

“I’ll be careful,” I promised.

“No. I’m good. Really.”

“Please, it’s obvious that you’re hurting, and it’s my fault.”

The corner of his mouth tilted up. “You’re right. This is your fault. You ambushed me with that freaking log.” He pushed his chair away from the kitchen table and slid it around so it faced me. He spread his arms in mock surrender. “I guess you do owe me.”

“Glad to know you can be reasonable.” I set the ice pack on the kitchen table and, straddling his legs, helped him pull his black T-shirt off over his head. Our hands brushed.

Turner’s gaze locked on mine.

I licked my lips and swallowed.

His shirt slipped from my fingers and fell in an untidy pile on the tile floor.

We both seemed to be holding our breath.

“Casey? Casey, where are you? I know just the dress you should wear!” Alyssa shouted as she breezed through the apartment. She halted with one foot in the kitchen and one in the living room. Her eyes widened and then, after sweeping her gaze over Turner’s delightfully broad chest, widened even more. “I—I didn’t realize you were . . .”

“I’m not,” I said, but jumped away from Turner as if I was guilty of . . .
something
. Which I wasn’t.

Alyssa yelped and grabbed my arm. Her grip tightened as she pulled me toward the living room. She paused just long enough to take another hard look at Turner. Her frown deepened.

“Who is that? And what are you doing with him?” she demanded in a harsh whisper as soon as she’d dragged me over to the far side of the small living room. “Didn’t you tell me you had a date with Tempting Templeton in”—she glanced at the ornate French Rococo clock on the mantle—“less than an hour?”

“Oh! Is it that late? I should start getting ready.”

Alyssa grabbed my arm again when I tried to escape.

“You—you have a half-naked man
in the kitchen
!” She jabbed her finger toward the cased opening. “You were nearly sitting on his lap
in the kitchen
!” I wondered if she’d have made such a fuss if I’d hidden Turner in my bedroom.

I
wasn’t
hiding him, because we weren’t doing anything wrong.

“It’s not what you think,” I explained. “I was helping him.”

“That’s
exactly
what I’m thinking.”

“No.” I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Turner was still in the kitchen and then lowered my voice. “Remember the Secret Service agent I . . . um . . . sort of attacked in Lafayette Square?”

“Is that him?” She hurried across the room to the kitchen and leaned through the cased opening. After a moment she wiggled her fingers in a demure wave. “He’s cute, really cute,” she said when she returned. “But that’s still no excuse. We’re talking about Tempting Templeton. He’s a powerful man, and you’ve already stood him up once. I wouldn’t risk crossing him twice. Who knows what he might do.”

“Like cancel my credit card?”

“Exactly.”

I swallowed hard. “You don’t think he actually canceled my credit card, do you?”

“Damn, I’d forgotten about that.”

“I haven’t. That cranky bank representative couldn’t explain why they’d canceled my account. Perhaps Richard made some phone calls when he was stewing about why I’d missed our date.”

“It’s possible. But then again, if he was that upset, why ask you out for dinner?”

“A change of heart?” I suggested.

Alyssa shook her head. “I don’t think he had anything to do with your credit card. But you do need to be careful around powerful men. Don’t give him a reason to want to destroy your career or your reputation. If you make the most of this opportunity, maybe Tempting Templeton will pull some strings and get you a new credit card with a fabulous interest rate.”

“You’re right. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“What’s the use of dating a banker if not to take advantage of some of the perks?”

“Personality? Compatibility?”

“And the fact that he’s so sexy he can charm the panties right off a woman just by looking at her?”

“Oh yeah, that, too.” I giggled.

“Now what are you going to do about hunk number two?” Alyssa hooked her thumb toward the kitchen. “You’ve got to get yourself upstairs and cleaned up or else you’ll be looking more like a pumpkin than a princess by the time your Prince Charming arrives.”

“Oh goodness, I don’t even know what I’m going to wear!”

“Don’t worry. As I was saying when I came in, I have the perfect dress you can borrow.”

“Thank you!” I hugged her and started to dart up the stairs.

“Don’t forget about the hunk you have stashed in the kitchen.”

“I didn’t stash him—”

“If you ask me nicely, I suppose I could take him off your hands for you.” She swished her hips in a suggestive manner.

“It’s not what you think.”

“He sure has nice, tight abs.”

“I was
helping
him.”

“I don’t think
I’ve
ever gotten a man to take off his shirt so quickly.”

I blew out a frustrated breath. Alyssa wasn’t going to stop until she got it all out of her system. “I need to get in the shower. Please, just help him with his ribs. And don’t do anything else. No touching. No seducing. And absolutely no kissing.”

“You’re no fun.” Alyssa swished her hips again.

“I mean it, Alyssa. You need to leave him alone. I have enough trouble on my hands right now. Please don’t do anything that would make things between Turner and me any more . . . um . . . awkward.”

“Said the one who’d peeled off his shirt,” she sang over her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen.

B
EFORE getting into the shower, I called to get an update on Lorenzo’s condition. “He’s home,” Gordon told me.

I sighed a breath of relief.

“He’s growling at me to leave. So I guess that means he’s feeling better. I plan on staying with him this evening and watching some TV. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Tell him that I’m thinking about him?”

“I will, Casey. And Casey?”

“Yes?”

“Be careful. I don’t think my heart can survive anything else happening.”

“I will. Thank you, Gordon.”

Next, I called my family. All the major news channels had arrived at the greenhouses before Turner and I had left. And since I’d never known my grandmother to miss the evening news, I could guarantee that the mood at Rosebrook would be tense while my aunts and grandmother fretted over my safety.

Tears welled in my eyes as I explained to my grandmother what had happened, assuring her that I was okay. I could clearly hear my lively aunts shouting advice in the background. Lord, how I missed them. I could have talked with them all night, but I didn’t want to keep Richard waiting.

I spoke briefly with Aunt Alba—she offered all sorts of creative advice on how to disable a man—before Aunt Willow wrestled the phone away from her. As soon as I told Aunt Willow that I needed to get ready for my date, she hung up.

About an hour later I descended the stairs feeling a bit like Scarlet O’Hara or Cinderella or perhaps a strange mix of the two women, strong but extremely lucky and more than a bit in over my head with Richard. My feet were stuffed into a pair of sling-back heels so high I felt like I could touch the ceiling. The slinky black dress Alyssa had left lying on my bed hugged every curve and dipped low in the cleavage. Tugging at the shoulder straps only raised my breasts. It didn’t cover me more.

My mother’s diamond and emerald necklace graced my throat. Heavy makeup hid the bruises still visible on my neck and temple. My lips glittered with cherry roses and my eyes shimmered in honey hues. Thanks to Alyssa’s styling prowess, romantic blond curls framed my face. I barely recognized myself in the mirror.

Both a fully dressed Turner and a beaming Alyssa waited for me at the bottom of the steps. Turner’s hazel green eyes widened as I came to a stop in front of him.

“You look . . .” His gaze swept slowly from my head all the way down to my toes.

“Yes?”

He gave his head a hard shake. “I’ve got to go.”

“You could stay and have dinner with me,” Alyssa suggested, batting her long, black eyelashes.

“No.” Turner grabbed the door handle and gave it a vicious yank. “Thank you, but no.” He rushed out of the apartment as if escaping one of Dante’s circles of hell.

“What did you do to him?” I demanded as Alyssa and I watched Turner limp-hop down the front steps.

Alyssa, smiling coyly, shrugged.

Turner had just reached the bottom of the slate steps when a shiny black town car pulled up to the curb in front of the brownstone. As soon as it stopped moving, Richard’s assistant emerged from the driver’s side. After carefully scanning the area, he jogged up the steps.

“Ms. Calhoun?” His deep voice rumbled low in his chest. “I’m Wallace Clegg, Mr. Templeton’s personal assistant.”

“Is that what they’re calling bodyguards nowadays?” Alyssa whispered in my ear.

I batted Alyssa away. “Yes, I remember you, Mr. Clegg. We met at the White House gate yesterday. It’s good to see you again.”

“Did we meet before?” He looked me over from head to toe. “You’ll have to forgive me. I never remember faces.”

“Some people don’t,” I said. But the other day Clegg had mentioned he thought he’d recognized me. Perhaps he was distracted this evening. Otherwise, I’m sure he would have remembered talking with me.

His nose pointed down like an arrowhead to the thin lips he had pressed tightly together. His gaze narrowed as he watched me.

“Mr. Templeton is waiting for you at the restaurant.” He stepped aside and gestured that I should precede him down the stairs to the waiting car.

I didn’t move.

It wasn’t my feet that stopped me. It was
his
.

His
shoes
, to be exact.

“Yes, I’m looking forward to dinner,” I said to those black-and-white shoes with the lightning design that were becoming a very familiar sight lately.

“Er, Ms. Calhoun, you are ready to go, aren’t you? Mr. Templeton is waiting.”

“Am I ready?” I asked Alyssa.

Alyssa must have noticed the shoes and recognized them. I’d described the design to her all the way down to the shoe’s white stitching enough times that she’d told me she’s been dreaming about them. But the fact they were on Clegg’s feet didn’t seem to bother her.

She gave me a not-so-gentle push. “Get going already. You don’t want him to think you’re having second thoughts.”

I suppose she was right. Besides, I’d seen those shoes all over D.C. lately. Apparently, they’d become an overnight hit.

I grabbed my purse, a small beaded black clutch, from the console table beside the door. “I’m ready.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Alyssa called from the front door as I slipped into the town car’s dark interior.

 

DINNER AT THE HISTORIC OLD EBBITT GRILL
was exquisite. Richard had a sharp wit that kept me laughing as the courses were served. He presented a mighty fine view to boot.

So why, at the end of the night after he’d walked me up the brownstone’s steps and to my front door, did I not feel those soft-winged butterflies fluttering around in my belly? And why, when he leaned in to kiss me, did I turn my head?

He crossed his arms and frowned at me. “Okay,” he said quietly, as if he understood. “Good night.”

“Wait.” I caught his arm when he turned to head down the stairs. “It’s not you. I’ve had a crazy day. First, my credit card was canceled. I still don’t know why. Then Senator Pendergast goes to the newspaper to attack my organic gardening proposal. You’d think I was suggesting that we pave over the South Lawn. And . . . and . . .” Tears welled up in my eyes. “And then there’s Pauline Bonde. I cannot get her out of my head. It’s not as if I know anything, but that didn’t stop someone from trying to kill me today. That is, if it’s the same guy. And Lorenzo certainly doesn’t know anything. So why would anyone want to hurt him?”

“Wait a minute.” Richard grabbed my hands. “Someone came after you today?”

“Didn’t I mention that?”

“Don’t you think I’d have remembered it? What happened?”

“It wasn’t my finest hour,” I warned.

“I don’t care. What happened?”

Richard listened patiently as we stood under the lamplight on my front stoop. I told him about the man stalking me at the greenhouse facility and how he’d attacked Lorenzo. I even admitted to how I’d attacked Jack Turner . . . again. When I finished, Richard cursed under his breath.

“Did you get a good look at him?”

I shook my head. “No. Hopefully Lorenzo saw something. I haven’t been able to talk to him yet.”

“God, this is terrible.” His hold on my hands tightened. “I’m going to stay here tonight to protect you.”