by Donna Hill
Avery tucked her legs beneath her. “So...what else? The suspense is killing me.” She leaned back and sipped on her glass of wine.
“It’s about the prenup.” He watched her expression tense. “I know what you said and how you feel. First of all, I didn’t get it written up.”
Avery frowned. “You didn’t. Then—”
“My father did it. But you didn’t give me a chance to explain that part of it.”
“Rafe... I... I’m sorry. I just thought—”
“I get it. I would have figured the same thing, unless you know my father. He likes to have his hand in everything.”
“I of all people should understand that. I’m the poster child for the controlling parent.” She reached out and touched his cheek. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.” She pushed out a breath. “Honestly, it was just an excuse.”
“Huh?”
She took his hands. “This whole being in love and devoted and committed to someone or something other than myself and my career is unchartered territory for me. I got scared. And I stupidly figured that if I found a way out I wouldn’t be around to be hurt or...to lose you.”
“Woman! I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m not leaving and you’re not losing me.”
“Promise?”
“Yeah.” He grinned, but the seductive smile slowly dissolved. “There’s more.”
Avery set down her glass.
“I went to see my father today. About the prenup.”
“Okay.”
“He told me the real reason why he had it drawn up.”
Her tapered brows drew together. “The real reason? What are you talking about?”
He refilled her empty glass and handed it to her. “Take a sip. You’ll need it.”
“You’re scaring me.” She slowly reached for the glass.
“Darlin’, scared is putting it mildly.”
He got up, crossed the living room to the glass cabinet and took out the bottle of bourbon, poured a short glass and returned to the couch.
Avery’s eyes widened in growing alarm. “Rafe...what the hell is going on?”
He stood in front of her. “Well...you kinda knew that my family was well-off.”
“Yes, and?”
“We’re a little more than well-off.” He tossed back the drink and his eyes squeezed shut as the heated liquid slid down his throat. He sat next to her and began at the beginning with his great grandfather.
Avery listened in numbed silence. The enormity of what he told her stretched the bounds of her comprehension. She tried to envision him as this magnate with near-limitless power and resources at his disposal. She knew power, saw it in action and how it had the ability to make or break a person. Too much power corrupts. The state of the country was a testament to that.
But Rafe was to be her husband, the man she’d spend the rest of her life with. She watched his expression shift from awe to excitement to humility. This was not a man that would let the elixir of power poison who he was.
Rafe looked into Avery’s eyes. “The prenup is not set up because of a trust issue or that I’d ever not want you to have whatever was mine. It’s to protect you in case anything should happen to me. You would not be responsible for all of the entities in any way.”
“First of all, nothing is going to happen to you.” She sighed. “I get it. I do. When I saw it I understood what I wanted to understand. Not to mention that I had no idea...”
“Yeah, me either.”
“So now what?”
“Nothing really changes, at least not yet. I come into my inheritance when I get married. Dad said after the wedding—and honeymoon—” he winked “—the learning curve will begin.”
“And what about your businesses? The foundation? Your music?”
“About that. I didn’t get a chance to tell you.” His tone softened. “Before everything kinda blew up with us I’d already begun to put some changes in place, shift the management of things so that I could confidently relocate to DC—for you. I know how important your career is and your career is here.”
Her throat clenched. She lowered her head and bit down on her lip. “Oh, Rafe.” She looked up, her eyes clouded with tears. “I...you are the most amazing man I’ve ever known.” Her gaze combed his face. “To have you love me is the greatest gift and my gift to you is my heart, my soul, my undying love and commitment.” She leaned in and kissed him long and slow. “We got this,” she said against his mouth.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, darlin’.” He tossed the blanket to the floor.
“So, does this mean I can get my twenty bucks back for the pizza?” she teased as he moved between her thighs.
“Whatever I have,” he ground out, easing inside her, “is yours.”
* * *
“You want me to drive you to work?” Rafe asked while he finished shaving.
Avery came up behind him and slid her arms around his bare waist. “No. Not necessary. You know I like to have access to my own car.”
He turned, leaned down and kissed her, leaving shaving cream on the tip of her nose. “Yes, ma’am.”
“But I’d love to find you here when I come home.” She grinned up at him.
“I might be able to arrange that. I have some business to take care of today. Won’t take long, and I need to stop by my place, pick up a few things.”
“Good.” She whirled away.
“You should hear from the doctor today about the results and when you need to come in, right?”
Avery stopped mid-step. “Yes.” She turned back around.
Rafe walked toward her. “It’s going to be fine. We got this.”
She leaned on him for a moment. “I’m going to be late fooling around with you.” She pushed against his chest and walked out into the bedroom. But she couldn’t turn her back on the fear that churned in her stomach.
* * *
Every time her phone rang, her whole body jerked. This time the call was from Director Fischer, who wanted to see her right away.
“Damn,” she muttered when she hung up. She slid her cell phone in her pocket, turned off her computer and locked her office door behind her. A million thoughts ran through her head as the elevator ascended to the executive floor. Had the director gotten wind of her visit to Dr. Ryan? More fallout from photographers? She couldn’t see a good outcome to the impromptu request.
The doors slid open and she all but slammed into Mike.
“Richards. How are you?”
“Good. Thanks.”
“Congratulations are in order. Maybe we could celebrate over drinks.” He stepped onto the elevator and the doors closed before she could respond.
Avery continued down the corridor and stopped at the director’s administrative assistant’s desk.
“Agent Richards. Go right in. The director is expecting you.”
“Thanks.” She tugged down on the hem of her dark blue jacket and walked toward the director’s office. She tapped lightly on the door.
“Come in.”
“Good morning, Director Fischer.”
“Agent Richards, please come in and have a seat. I’ll get right to it,” he began before she barely was in the chair. “I know that you were up for the assistant deputy director, and you would probably do a damned good job at it. In fact I know you would.”
Here it comes.
He folded his hands and leaned forward. “However, something has come up that I believe your skills and experience are a perfect match. An opening in the Joint Terrorist Task Force has opened. As you know, our agency works in partnership with the FBI on this task force.”
Avery nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Your name was put forward to fill the position of special agent in charge.”
She blinked rapidly. “What?
”
Director Fischer offered a rare smile. “The assistant position here at the agency is a good one, granted, but it’s really a glorified desk job with perks. That’s not where your skills lie. You speak multiple languages, your IQ is off the charts, you’re one of our best in the field and your investigative abilities are stellar. Not to mention that you’re somewhat of a hero around here.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I have to admit I did have some concerns about the incident with the reporters while you were on duty. But everything else about your service to the agency outweighs any reservations I may have had. You’re not a paper pusher, Agent Richards. You don’t have the temperament to be bogged down in bureaucracy and that’s a lot of what that assistant position would be.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“I’ll give you a day, two at the most, to get back to me with a decision. I hope you’ll seriously consider it. You’d be the first woman in the position,” he added to sweeten the pot.
Avery pushed out a breath and stood. “Thank you, sir.” She extended her hand, which he shook. She turned and walked out. Her heart was racing. It took all she had not to do a screaming happy dance down the austere corridors of the agency.
She rushed back to her office and the first call she made was to Rafe. It went to voice mail and she was sure she sounded like a crazy person, but she didn’t care. Next she called Kerry, but she was talking so fast that Kerry simply hung up and showed up at Avery’s office door moments later.
“What the hell is going on?” she demanded as she burst through the door.
Avery paced as if the rug was on fire. “Sit. Sit.” She twirled in a circle. “I just got offered to be special agent in charge with the Joint Terrorist Taskforce,” she blurted out.
“Say what?” Kerry leaped up out of her seat.
“Yes!” she screeched and pressed her fist to her mouth. “I just came back from the director’s office.”
“Avery... Oh. My. God. This is major. Girrrl!” She came over and hugged her tight and then stepped back and squeezed her shoulders. “You are going to take it, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know. I mean it’s going to mean travel, long hours. I’m getting married in four months.”
“Wait.” She held up her hand. “When did this happen again?”
Avery sat on the edge of her desk. “Rafe came by last night.” Her cell phone vibrated on her desk. “One sec.” She reached behind her and picked up the phone. “The doctor’s office.”
“Answer it.”
Avery swallowed, pressed the talk icon. “Hello? Yes. Sure. Okay. Thank you.” She set the phone down. “The results are back.”
“And?”
“He wants me to come in this evening to talk about the findings.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Thanks, but Rafe insists that he go with me.”
“Not a problem. And speaking of Mr. Wonderful, what happened?”
“So much. I don’t even know where to start.”
“You can start from the good part—the great makeup sex, and work back from there.”
Avery cracked up laughing. “Girl, girl. Humph. No words,” she said, her cheeks burning with the memories.
“Since I’ve been replaced as your wingman, let’s meet up for lunch. Catch me up.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“One good for you?”
“Yep. Meet up in the lobby.”
Kerry turned to leave. “See you then.”
Alone the whirlwind events of the morning took their toll. Slowly she sat down, rested her elbows on the desk and her chin on her fist, and tried to process everything. She and Rafe were back on track. She would be marrying one of the wealthiest, most powerful men in the country. She’d just been offered a dream job. And her doctor wanted to see her about the diagnosis that he wouldn’t discuss over the phone. That was the hard reality that could negate everything else.
She spun around in her chair only to face the wall. Ironic? She turned back and took up her phone, dialed Rafe. This time he answered.
Chapter 23
Rafe held Avery’s hand as they listened to the doctor explain Avery’s diagnosis.
“What you have is what is called PCS or post-concussion syndrome.”
“What is that?” Avery asked. Rafe squeezed her hand.
“Post-concussion syndrome has various symptoms, such as headaches and dizziness that you’ve experienced. They can last for weeks and sometimes months after the injury that caused the concussion. You display the full array of symptoms—headaches, dizziness, fatigue, irritability, anxiety, insomnia, loss of concentration, ringing in the ears, blurry vision.”
“Are you saying this is going to last forever?”
“I know the diagnosis sounds frightening, but the good news is the scans show no damage, no fractures, no clots. In other words, you will be fine. It may take a little while longer. But you will be okay. For some reason that science has yet to figure out, women seem to be more susceptible to PCS than men.”
“So, I have to live with it.”
The doctor nodded. “There are some schools of thought that believe post-concussion symptoms are related to psychological factors, since the most common symptoms are headaches, dizziness and sleep problems. They’re similar to symptoms that people that have been diagnosed with depression, anxiety or post-traumatic stress experience.”
“So, I’m crazy on top of everything else?”
“No. Not at all. But you did experience a traumatic event. The main thing now is to manage your stress as much as possible. Get as much rest as you can. Take the medication only when needed. But I’d say in another month or so you should be feeling much better.” He opened his desk drawer and took out a card, slid it across the desk.
Avery reached for it. “A psychologist?”
“A suggestion. If you feel that you need to talk to a professional about anything that happened during the explosion.”
She drew in a long breath and put the card in her purse.
“Do you have any questions for me?”
“What if I’m not hundred percent in another month?”
“Then I would want to see you again and I’d insist that you see the psychologist, because the problem would not be purely physical.”
Avery pursed her lips.
“What can I do?” Rafe asked.
Dr. Ryan smiled. “Make her life as easy as possible and make sure that she doesn’t overtax herself. Be supportive.”
Rafe looked at Avery and winked. He turned to the doctor. “Not a problem.”
“Well, that’s it. Any questions that come up later, call me. However, if for any reason the symptoms become worse, increase or the medication does not work, contact the office immediately.”
Avery nodded and stood. “Thank you, Dr. Ryan.”
“Of course. Take care of yourself.”
Rafe shook the doctor’s hand. “Thanks.”
* * *
Rafe had taken an Uber to meet Avery at work since she’d insisted on driving her own car. When he opened the passenger door for her, he half expected her to object, but she slid in without a peep.
“The doctor said a mouthful, baby, but the news was good.”
“Eventually good.”
“Better than never good.”
She angled her head toward him and shot him “the look.”
He threw up his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry.” He turned on the car and put it in gear. “The doc did say irritability was a symptom,” he mumbled only to receive a punch in the arm. “He left out violence,” he added over his laughter. “Let’s go get some dinner.”
Avery folded her arms and pretended to pout. “Just keep in mind that I may be a little bit crazy.”
“About
me, I hope.”
Avery groaned. “Baldwin’s.”
“You read my mind, darlin’.”
* * *
“That’s incredible, sweetheart,” Rafe enthused. “You deserve it.” He took her hands from across the table and brought them to his lips. His voice lowered to a husky whisper. “Nothing sexier than a badass sister with power and a gun.”
Avery’s cheeks heated. “So you think I should take it?”
“You’re damned right. Why wouldn’t you?” He released her and sat back. “What did Kerry say?” he asked, knowing that of course she talked it over with her best friend.
“We had lunch today. She said I should take it and that I’d be a fool if I didn’t try to work things out with you.”
“I knew I liked her.”
She pushed her shrimp scampi around on her plate with her fork. “I’d work crazy hours.”
“Me too.”
“A lot of travel.”
“Me too.”
“It could be dangerous at times.”
“That’s the sexy part.” He licked his lips. “Look, I get it. If anyone does I do. We’ll make it work.”
“When would we ever see each other?” Her brows drew together.
“Don’t you know who you’re marryin’, woman? I can make things happen, be where I need to be, wherever you need me to be.”
Her eyes danced lovingly across the smooth sculpture of his face. “Why are you so freaking amazing?”
He feigned confusion, shrugged. “I’ve been told it was in my DNA, or maybe in all the bourbon I’ve tossed back over the years,” he joked.
“I love you, man,” she whispered with a smile beaming across her mouth.
“Love you right back, darlin’.” He picked up a sticky barbecue rib and tore off a piece of sauce-drenched meat. “Eat up, ’cause you’re gonna need all your energy.”
She tipped her head to the side and looked at him from beneath her long lashes. “And why is that, Mr. Lawson?”
He wiped his hands on the cloth napkin, leaned forward. “’Cause I fully intend to make crazy love to you until you beg me to stop.”
Avery leaned in. “If you know nothing else about me, know that I’m not the begging kind of woman.”