Authors: Starr Ambrose
Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Suspense, #Extortion, #Sisters, #Legislators, #Missing Persons
“Because we both want me to.”
She had no response to that. Groaning, Lauren propped her elbows on the table and dropped her head into her hands, clutching her hair. “We are
not
talking about this. We are going to come up with a plan to find my sister and your father, and figure out what’s going on.”
He sipped his coffee and considered her demand. “Okay.”
“Okay?” She looked up suspiciously. “You mean you’ll help me come up with a plan?”
“Not exactly.” He held up a hand when he saw her temper flare. “I won’t try to talk you out of it, because I understand how you feel. I feel the same way. But we start by talking to the Secret Service. That keeps you out of the line of fire, and they might have some leads by now.”
“Fine.” Now he was being sensible.
Drew leaned forward. “
Then
we talk about it.”
From the intensity of his gaze, she had no doubt what “it” was. Her insides squirmed, and she looked away. “I think it would be best if we forgot it,” she mumbled.
“Not possible.”
She refused to meet his eyes, afraid of the way they made her heart flutter and her body want to do inappropriate things. A desire to run for safety, to call Jeff again, rose like panic in her chest.
“Don’t run from me, Lauren,” Drew said, his voice soft and low as he read her thoughts.
She looked up, startled. This was not fair. Her engagement ring was supposed to ward off advances from other men, but Drew wasn’t following the rules. And she wasn’t nearly as disinterested as she was supposed to be. Before she could figure out why, her thoughts were interrupted by an urgent shout.
“Hey! Get in here, quick!”
They turned in alarm, then pushed back their chairs and dashed toward the living room. Gerald stood before the TV, his half-eaten muffin on the coffee table.
“Look at this!” His finger jabbed toward the TV screen. “You neglected to mention this.”
Lauren’s eyes widened with surprise. “Hey, that’s me! Why am I on TV?”
Drew stepped closer. “And me. And that’s the fat guy we met, what’s his name, Childers. What—”
“Shhh!” Gerald flapped his hands at them for silence.
A woman’s voice narrated, “—was arrested as he left the Romanian Embassy last night. Police say he is charged with bribery and fraud, and is currently being held without bail.” The picture disappeared and Lauren recognized Dana Zamecki, the blonde reporter who had waylaid Meg and Senator Creighton at the airport. Behind her, power cables snaked across the front lawn of a quiet residential neighborhood.
“Hey, that’s your front yard,” she said. She started toward the window, but Drew grabbed her arm and held her in place.
“But I want to see—”
Gerald waved her quiet again, as Dana continued, “Mr. Childers has been a major contributor to political campaigns, most notably that of Senator Harlan Creighton the third. The senator’s wife and son were partying with Childers last night shortly before his arrest.”
“Bitch,” Gerald said.
“Vultures,” Drew muttered.
Outraged, Lauren shushed them and stepped closer to the TV.
Dana looked excited about her news. “Police sources tell us they are investigating Mrs. Creighton’s rumored ties to a political action group suspected of being a front for illegal campaign contributions.”
“Uh-uh.” Gerald shook his head vigorously. “That’s
an outright lie. Meg didn’t have ties to any local PACs. I did her background check.”
Lauren ground her teeth. She was getting tired of hearing her sister insulted, criticized, and second-guessed. Reporters got away with too much simply by adding the word “rumor” to their accusations; Dana deserved to be confronted about that lie. Lauren glanced at the window. Conveniently, Dana was standing on the front lawn at this very moment. Lauren turned away with sudden determination.
“Hey,” she heard Gerald say as she stalked toward the door. “Where are you going? You can’t go out there!”
Alerted, Drew swore and yelled, “Lauren, don’t!” but she had enough of a head start. She flung the front door open and had one foot on the porch before Drew grabbed her arm from behind.
“Get back inside,” he hissed in her ear.
She shook him off. “I will, just as soon as I set that woman straight.”
Crowding next to Drew, Gerald grabbed a handful of her sweater. “Don’t talk to them,” he pleaded.
She reached behind her to swat at his hand. “Let go.”
Something jabbed her chin. As she turned, Dana pulled the microphone back a scant inch and said, “Mrs. Creighton! Could you comment on Bud Childers’s arrest?”
Lauren could have taken a bite out of the microphone, it was so close. As she parted her lips to snap out a response, Miss Blonde Ambition hit her with the next question.
“What does your husband have to say about Mr. Childers’s claim that you and the senator’s son
accepted a fifty thousand dollar bribe on Senator Creighton’s behalf just last night?”
Lauren blinked at the woman, stunned. “What?”
Before she could utter more, Drew’s hand landed on her shoulders and yanked her back inside. Gerald slammed the door behind them, nearly crushing the microphone.
The foyer wall was at her back, and Drew’s face was in front of her. Anger flattened the sexy curve of his lip, although it was still attractive enough at this close range to keep her attention. Even when he ground his teeth like that.
Gerald didn’t bother fighting for control. He waved a finger under her nose and scolded, “You nearly broke the first commandment, young lady: Never speak to the press without consulting me first.” His voice grew menacing enough for scary bedtime stories. “Remember this: Reporters will eat you alive, then fight over your bones. They are bad, bad people. Do you understand?”
She nodded, then looked warily back at Drew.
“Gerald’s right,” he told her firmly.
“I remember. Gerald’s always right.”
“And don’t you forget it,” Gerald harrumphed. She nodded again, meekly, which seemed to pacify him. “Excuse me while I get rid of the Evil Witch of the Potomac,” he grumbled, pushing past Drew to slip out the front door.
Drew still held her shoulders to the wall, and Lauren squirmed under his gaze. If he meant to intimidate her with his size, it wasn’t working, because she was getting a hot tingle of awareness that had nothing to do with intimidation.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Good.”
“You can let me go now. I promise I won’t talk to the press.” He didn’t move. She wasn’t even sure he heard her. “Drew?”
He squinted thoughtfully. “What color are your eyes?”
“What?”
His brows puckered. “Sometimes they look green, and sometimes they look gray, like now. What color are they?”
“Hazel.”
His deep stare softened, and so did his mouth. “Yeah?”
Geez, how could he do that with one word? A pleasant pressure built between her thighs and her temperature soared along with her pulse. Not that her mind wasn’t still capable of composing a brilliant response. “Yeah,” she said.
He seemed to find that wonderfully incisive. His lips curved even more, and her lungs collapsed with a deep sigh. God, the things she wanted to do to that mouth.
“I like them.”
“Huh?” Had she actually suggested something aloud?
“Your eyes. They’re pretty.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
Her sparkling conversation was having an effect; his smile grew even wider. He moved closer.
Lauren flattened against the wall, but Drew’s forearms did too, framing either side of her head and bringing his face inches away from her own. She struggled to remember why she was supposed to resist
him. It had something to do with morals. With one tiny move she could have her lips sealed against his. Her breasts picked up the warm tingle from below and arched toward him. If he would just lean a little closer…
He did, his chest brushing exquisitely against her nipples and his mouth grazing the side of hers. She closed her eyes and waited, breathing heavily and trying to resist temptation.
“You know what I think you should do?” he asked against her trembling lip.
“What?” she asked, her voice tremulous.
His lips brushed her cheek as he whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her neck, all the way to her toes. “I think you should call Jeff.”
Her fantasy crashed. “What?”
His face drew back enough for her to see his dark blue eyes and feel the warmth of his breath. One hand lifted off the wall and his fingers caressed her cheek, then trailed a fiery line down her neck. “If you’re about to cheat on the poor man, the least you can do is break up with him first.”
Just because he was dead on target didn’t mean he wasn’t an arrogant ass. “Cheat? Why, you insufferable—” she began, but her words were smothered by his mouth as his lips covered hers and his tongue plunged right into her startled open mouth. His hands left the wall and cupped her face, holding it still as his tongue sought hers and his chest pressed her against the wall.
She maintained her indignation for a full second, then melted under the heat building inside her.
Whether her mind consented or not, it seemed her body was more than willing to follow Drew’s lead.
She stopped resisting.
With a moan that hummed from her mouth into his, she reached up to pull him closer, an effort that was physically impossible. Lauren heard herself make urgent, happy little sounds as she raised her knee against the side of his leg. He responded, pressing her to the wall so firmly that she felt the hard line of his erection. Just as she was trying to devise a way to slip a hand between them, the door burst open, then slammed shut again.
They parted like guilty teenagers.
“Ha! I dispersed the vile hordes,” Gerald gloated, “and I threatened their evil queen with a lawsuit if she so much as implied bribery without hard evidence…” His voice trailed off as he looked at them. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Drew propped one hand on the wall and half turned toward Gerald, keeping the front of his pants from view.
“We were just talking,” Lauren said. “Arguing, actually.” That sounded more realistic.
“I see. Well, continue. I have to check out her report, then contact the Secret Service and light a fire under someone’s ass. They haven’t told us a thing about their investigation, and it seems to be more complex than we knew.” He took a few steps, then glanced back. “By the way, Andrew, that shade of lipstick really isn’t you. I’d go with more brown tones.”
“Damn,” Drew muttered to Gerald’s back. “That man knows everything that happens around here.”
She stifled a nervous giggle. “We made it pretty easy.” Lauren used her finger to wipe lipstick from his upper lip. When his interested gaze settled on her, she withdrew her hand. “I think I’ll go see what Gerald can find out about those men who tried to kidnap me.”
He smiled as she edged away. “It’s not me you’re afraid of, you know. You’re afraid of yourself.”
She didn’t bother responding, because this time she knew he was right. She was scared to death of the powerful attraction she felt for a man who was all wrong for her.
He was right about something else, too. She needed to call Jeff.
“For heaven’s sake, Lauren, I’m at work. Is this important?”
Jeff’s dedication to Duchaine Properties was admirable and she’d never infringed on his work time before. “Yes, it’s terribly important. I’m having doubts, Jeff.” Scooting the senator’s office chair closer to the desk, she clutched the phone in a white-knuckled grip, waiting for his reply.
“Why would you have doubts? I thought we already decided you’re coming home.” He hated indecision, and she could hear it in his voice.
“Not about that. About us.”
“What do you mean, us? Our plans? Oh, I see. This is about not being able to visit Uncle John and Aunt Betty, isn’t it? That’s a good point. Maybe you should go there before you come home.”
“No, no,” she cut in. “I’m having doubts about our relationship.”
After a moment of tense silence during which she heard his desk chair squeak as he sat down, he spoke
cautiously. “I don’t think I understand. What sort of doubts?”
Lauren instantly recalled the blinding hot desire that had ripped through her at Drew’s kiss. “Don’t you ever feel that something is missing between us, Jeff?”
“Does this have something to do with that embassy party? It must have been glamorous, maybe seductively so. Are you dissatisfied with our social life?”
She sighed. “No, Jeff. I’m not talking about our social life.” Although now that she thought about it, there was room for improvement there, too. “I mean, don’t you feel something is missing in our personal relationship? Something spontaneous and passionate?”
“We aren’t teenagers, Lauren.” His words came out in a careful, slow cadence, as if she had become too dense to comprehend his regular speech pattern. “We are mature adults who know how to exercise control. Passion fades. You need a steady, dependable relationship.”
“I thought I did,” she murmured.
Jeff’s voice was soothing. “We do have passion, darling. It’s simply not something one indulges outside the proper time and place. You know I have always been impressed with the example you tried to set for your sister, showing her that it was possible to build a strong, steady relationship rather than hopping from one bed to another.” He paused. “Is this about Meg? Does something about her wild life in Washington actually seem appealing to you?”