Baltimore, Maryland
“Here.” She wagged her hand at his phone, and before he could sort out what she meant, she’d taken the phone and was tapping quickly on the screen. Her nails were her own??—not those fakes a lot of women wore. “If you change your settings,” she said, her brown eyes brightened by the screen in the dim lighting of the event, “like this …”???—she kept working???—“then people can’t randomly send you photos or texts.” She straightened and spun his phone back to him. “There you go.”
Stone glanced down at the phone, bewildered. “I …” He thumbed his eyebrow. “Thank you.” He smiled at her. Found himself ensnared in her smile and the audacity of taking the governor’s phone from his hands.
She cocked her eyes, suddenly shy. “Yeah. Sure.” Suddenly, she diverted her gaze to the floor. Ah, there it was. She finally realized who he was. “I know devices?—they sort of control my life.”
He sniffed. “I hate the things. They’re shackles.”
“Same.” Their gazes locked and Stone willed his brain to work, to find something to say.
“Sir.”
The stiff tone of his bodyguard pivoted Stone toward him.
Geary glanced past him with an assessing gaze on the woman as he said, “Mr. Kovacs asked for you.”
“Right.” Stone turned to her—only to find her gone. He scanned the room to no avail.
“Sir. This way.” Geary touched Stone’s elbow in urging.
“Back into the mouth of the lion.” Stone couldn’t help one more visual sweep of the room for the woman who’d treated him like a person, not the governor. The woman he’d noticed almost as soon as he’d entered the ballroom.
. . . . .
Bexar-Wolfe Lodge, Northern Virginia
He swiped a hand over his mouth and beard. “We got along, seemed to have a lot in common. She was young, smart, funny?—reminded me of Willow.”
“Ahh,” Mom said warmly. “You always had a soft spot for your younger sister.” They sat in the quiet of the evening, sounds of familial laughter drifting from inside. “So, you had a lot in common …”
“I thought we did.” He straightened, a hand propped on his leg as he watched Grief inspect a critter. “They said she was an administrative assistant to a cabinet member. She showed up at a few more parties, and I always looked forward to seeing her. We’d talk, laugh, connect.” He rubbed his chin against his shoulder trying to shrug off the sound of her laughter and the way it infested his mind. “The world didn’t seem so cold and impossible when she was around.”
“And you never knew?”
He shook his head. “I mean??—the evidence was there, I guess. If I’d looked hard enough, I would’ve put it together.”
“But you didn’t?”
“I just wanted more time with her. Thought that’s what she wanted. Obviously, she did??—because they paid her to set me up.” Rawness coated his chest and throat. “At first, we just bumped into each other. Though, I’ve wondered if that was set up, too. But I’d grab coffee and she’d be there. I’d eat out, and she’d walk in with a woman friend. We made the most of the times, talking, laughing. Then I asked her out. But because of my position, we met at a hotel in the hopes of avoiding media scrutiny. Stupid, really. It had a kitchen, so I made dinner. We’d eat, watch movies, sometimes attend a fundraiser party.”
“You kept things platonic?”
Stone pushed to his feet. Shoved his fingers into the pockets of his jeans. He hated this. Hated himself. Just get it over with.
He balled his fists. “In the beginning, yeah.” His mind flung back to her, her laughter … kisses. Her passion. “I was stupid. Listened to the wrong voices. The job was hard, the pressure unreal, and I just wanted one thing for me.” He sat again and growled. “It’s stupid and selfish now that I hear myself say it. Fact is, I just didn’t think.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Maybe I didn’t care. I don’t know. It all got to me??—the position, the power.” Ashamed, he shook his head. “Thought, heck yeah??—I deserve the attention of a beautiful woman.” What a fool. “I ignored the signs and the consequences.”
“So, you were intimate with her?”
“No.” His word bounced off the walls back to him. “We never … got that far.” He was glad for the dark hour so she couldn’t see the heat climbing his face.
She tilted her head. “You didn’t have sex with her?”
“Might as well have.” What guy talked about this stuff with his mom? Sure could use a drink. A stiff one, but he’d sworn that off since the scandal, too. “Weren’t far from it. I had every intention …”
“What stopped you?”
“Canyon.”
