Page 1 of The Devil Goes to Washington

Chapter 1

“What the fuck is she doing here?” a familiar, gravelly male voice boomed.

Evelyn Burgh’s body reacted before she could process who had spoken. She dug her heels into the lush carpet, resisting the need to run across the room and jump into his arms. The heady scent of leather and sandalwood cologne with a touch of vanilla overpowered her senses, making her mouth water. She craved him as much as she had eight years ago. While the visceral reaction taunted her, she pinched her leg to remind herself of why she had started referring to him as the devil.

“Didn’t I tell you she was lovely?” asked Miss May, owner of the Wife for Hire agency.

Her cloying sweet voice rang through the room, ushering Evelyn into the meeting room on the top floor of the luxury Washington DC hotel. It was spring, but the breathtaking view of the city with the blooming cherry blossom trees was shut out by the thick tapestry curtains, much like she was sure was about to happen to her. She examined the intricately patterned rug under her feet, looking for any spots she missed during her cleaning the week prior.

“You know each other?” a zealous voice exclaimed.

“Hello, Mr. Harding.” Evelyn greeted as she took a deep breath and smoothed her retro-50s-style white dress before daring to look up into the deep, expressive dark eyes she had always loved. She had hoped time would have softened him a little. His fists bore down on the highly polished mahogany table as he stood front and center, surrounded by other suits. Suppressing the urge to wipe his dirty prints from her diligent work, she looked to Miss May to rescue her from the impending confrontation. Unfortunately, she was involved in an intense conversation with the gray pinstripe in the corner.

“Miss D’Ambroglio. I take it you are my intended.” Michael T. Harding, IV stood at the other end of the long room in his well-tailored navy blue suit and complementary tie. She assumed it was silk because a Harding would only have the best, or so Mr. Harding the Third used to say while looking down his nose at her like she was a speck of dirt the maid had missed.

“I go by Burgh now,” she corrected him. “Yes, apparently, I have been selected to be your wife.” She firmly ignored the temptation to escape while she had the chance, as had no other option at this point.

“They didn’t tell you it was me?” It was a good question, one she was kicking herself for not asking sooner. Desperate times make people agree to anonymous arranged marriages by quirky brokers like Miss May, who had found Evelyn crying over a spilled mop bucket.

“I didn’t know until I saw you just now.” It didn’t even sound believable to her, but he, or at least his people, had kept this arrangement a well-guarded secret, which was understandable for a man of his standing. None of it mattered to her, as long as he didn’t back out of the deal.

“That is an interesting story.” His brow furrowed like it used to when he was trying to figure something out.

“What did you want me to say? That the lying, conniving gold-digger you once knew has come back for your fortune?”

“That would be more believable from someone who left a crippled man behind and ran as fast as she could.” Over the years, she had replayed versions of their reunion in her mind. She had imagined him angry, but compassionate. She had even hoped he might still love her, but his acerbic words were worse than she had imagined. She could take anything Michael could dish out, but she was determined to protect her son who desperately wanted a father. This marriage could be a bigger risk than she had expected.

“This is so fucking fantastic! Ms. Burgh, I’m Blake Buchanan, this guy’s campaign manager.” He pointed a thumb toward Michael before shaking her hand enthusiastically. “These two are the PR super-team from Noble Relations, Sabrina Noble, herself, and Ethan Shunderson. The tall one in the corner is the incomparable Heath Hayes.”

“It’s nice to meet you all. Mr. Hayes and I are acquainted as well.” He wasn’t trying to hide his glower any more than Michael had. They had been best friends in law school, and their families were old DC money with a firm hold on both politics and power, tracing their ancestry to the founding fathers.

“Blake, don’t get ahead of yourself. This deal is not going to happen,” Michael warned.

“But my fee...” Miss May’s raised voice caught Evelyn’s attention.

“Why? This is a fantastic story to boost your ratings.” Blake returned to the table to argue with Michael while she still stood inside the entrance to the room. She would need to let them hash this out and hope that they could talk reason into Michael, which had always been a difficult feat when he made up his mind.

“Voters will eat up this Cinderella story. A beautiful, single mom swept off her feet by the charismatic senator.” Ethan waved his arms around as if the words were on a billboard.

“Wait a minute. They already know each other. I smell a story here.” Rubbing her hands together, Sabrina looked like a greedy mastermind whose plan was coming together.

“Michael,” Heath interrupted. “You don’t really have a choice. Contracts have been signed, monies spent, there are no other prospects, and the candidate’s announcement comes out this week. Besides, she can fake it better than anyone else could. She’s proved that before.” Hayes had been against Michael dating her from the start and had been very vocal about it. Still, she had to smirk at the irony of him being the advocate for her in this arrangement.

“See, I told you!” Sabrina turned to her colleague. “They were a couple! We have a second chance romance!” The woman jumped out of her seat, hands in the air like she had won the lottery.

“Don’t forget the insta-family you get with her son.” Ethan joined in the celebration.

“Right. There’s a kid. Where is it?” Michael asked, devoid of emotion.

“Oh, I told her to leave that dear sweet boy with my assistant while we took care of all the legalities. Come, Evelyn, do sit down and make yourself more comfortable.”

She moved to take a seat at the table. She liked Miss May and was thankful to have someone extend some courtesy to her, but she also knew it was only to secure the signing bonus.

“Michael, did you read any of the papers I sent over?” Heath laid out stacks of documents in front of him. Ignoring the question, Michael slumped into the buttery white leather chair across from her.

HE STARED AT HER IN disbelief. Jet black curls framed Evelyn’s delicate, thin face. A crescent-shaped white hat and small veil did nothing to hide the emerald green eyes that had haunted Michael for years and now set him on fire. It was a fine line between lust and rage. He would see which won out by the time the day was over. The flair of her skirt emphasized the curve of her hips he used to grip when thrusting deep inside of her. The memory of her soft mews mixed with the musk of their sweaty bodies sliding together played through his mind, blurring the conversation around him. Keeping the table between them was the only way to hide his physical reaction to her. He was doing everything he could to prevent himself from pulling her across the table and feasting on her laid out before him.

“You need to soften your image and be seen as a family man,” his campaign team had lectured. They hadn’t been wrong yet in the history of his political career. He hoped they weren’t this time either.