Commander

by Sienna Snow

  “You are the furthest thing from traditional. What are you waiting for?”

  “First Samina and now you. Does everyone know I’m not fucking Ashur?” I ran a hand over my heated face.

  “I’m your security.”

  I frowned, picked up my towel, and threw it at him. “That’s your answer?”

  “It’s a better answer than anything you’re giving me.” He stood, going over to the corner where his gym bag was and pulling out a jacket. “Besides, I know the answer. I just want to see if you’ll admit it.”

  I crossed my arms across my body. “Oh, wise one, please tell me what is my reason for not sleeping with my fiancé?”

  He walked toward the stairs that led to the kitchen. He set a foot on the bottom step, stared me in the eyes, and smiled. “Because you’re in love with him and you’re worried he’ll break your heart again once he learns all your secrets.”

  Chapter Seven

  After a long shower and a giant cup of coffee, I found myself working in the home office of my townhouse.

  I’d tried my damnedest to focus on the list of tasks I had to complete, but Casey’s words kept haunting me and left me in a foul mood.

  In love with Ashur, as if.

  Ashur and I had become friends over the last year and a half, moving past the anger and heartache of our youth. However, that didn’t mean I was in love with him. And our mutual attraction only indicated that we’d have mind-blowing sex. Nothing more.

  I was not in love. I knew better than to fall down that rabbit hole.

  I glanced at my ring and sighed.

  Who was I kidding? I was fucked. And not just literally. Great, now I was thinking about the dream.

  I groaned and pressed my fingertips to my temples.

  “Ms. Zain. Your gown has arrived, and the designer wants to make sure it fits.”

  I turned my office chair toward my assistant, Eleanor, or Eli as I called her.

  She was a slender woman in her late forties with long blond hair and gray eyes. I’d hired her as my assistant eight years ago, right after her husband, a former Solon agent, had died from a heart attack. As a new widow, she was looking for a complete change of career from teaching theater at the University of Washington. Eli understood the lifestyle I lived, having experienced decades of it as an agent’s wife. She also accepted the complexity of managing a public career and having another very secret one.

  I’m not sure what I would have done without her. She had a way of keeping me in check, and sometimes I wondered if she knew more about my job than I did.

  Thank God she’d agreed to move across the country with me. She was the presence I needed to keep me grounded in this intimidating world I now existed in.

  “What gown?”

  She typed away on her tablet with a distinct frown on her face. “The one for your first official dinner as the first lady.”

  “Oh, God.” I dropped my head onto the desk. “I totally forgot about the fitting.”

  The last thing I needed to focus on was a state dinner planned for the week Ashur and I returned from our honeymoon.

  I had to get these last-minute tasks completed for my law practice, make sure Tyler was set for as smooth a transition as possible, and double check the details of Ameera’s auction and hopeful rescue. And then there was the fact my body hurt like hell from the beat-down Casey had given me at my insistence. If the pain I felt in my hip was any indication, I’d have a bruise. Shit, now I’d have to explain the mark as Casey predicted I would.

  What the hell had I been thinking?

  That you needed a distraction from thoughts of jumping the man you’re marrying but shouldn’t want so desperately.

  “Can we reschedule? I have too much to do. Plus, I have to get to the last-minute wedding logistics meeting before the rehearsal.”

  “No. The designer is here, and it’s better to get it over with. The meeting isn’t for two hours, giving you plenty of time have the fitting and finish up your work.”

  I wasn’t going to win this one. No one got between Eli and her agenda.

  “Fine. Have them set up in the guest bedroom. It’s the only room not filled with boxes.”

  She nodded, stepped out of the room, giving Casey instructions, and then returned in less than two minutes.

  “Please tell me you aren’t wearing red to your first official gala as first lady.”

  “It was the only thing that looked great on my body and didn’t cost an arm and a leg.”

  “You do realize you’re marrying a billionaire? He can afford a high-end gown.”

  That was something I didn’t need a reminder of. I was going to use Ashur’s money for more important things. Like freeing Ameera.

  “It wouldn’t look appropriate if I wore custom-made haute couture clothing. I won’t have anyone question Ashur’s fiscally conservative stance. Now to respond to the red dress comment. The gown was Jacinta’s and Samina’s idea. They wanted me to distinguish myself from past First Ladies. Since I agreed with them, I chose a dress that suited my personality.”

  She cocked a hand on her hip and glared at me. “I see your point on the cost and keeping your personal style, but red? Really?”

  “Really,” I retorted and then signed a few last-minute account transfers documents Tyler needed. “I like red. I look good in it. End of story.”

  “I know when it’s a lost cause.” She used her stylus to check off something on the tablet.

  “You know if you keep scowling, your face is going to freeze that way,” I said with a smirk.

  Eli could give Attila the Hun a run for his money when it came to annoyed glares.

  “I’m charged with keeping your life organized. If you don’t have it together, then it’s my fault.”

  “You take your job too seriously.”

  “I’m supposed to. There is a huge difference between being your PA in Seattle and managing the first lady’s schedule.”

  “I have complete faith in your ability to coordinate my life. You’ll do a much better job than I ever would.”

  Eli approached me and then took a seat across from me. Uh-oh, I shouldn’t have said that. Eli may work for me, but she was like a no-nonsense aunt who told it like it was, whether I wanted to hear it or not.

  I pushed back from my chair and folded my arms across my body. “Let me have it. You’ve got something on your mind.”

  “Are you truly going to give up everything you’ve built in your practice and Solon to become first lady?”

  The last thing I wanted to do was give up the jobs that had given me my identity for all of my adult life, but what choice did I have? I also wanted a child, and I’d never ever put my child knowingly in danger, despite what Mummy believed.

  Yes, two children were part of the agreement, but I hadn’t hesitated when Ashur put babies as part of our arrangement. I’d wanted to be a mother but had resigned myself for it never to happen. This was the reason I’d immersed myself in Solon so much that I’d surpassed other agents in rank who’d been at the organization longer. Now that parenting was part of my future, I’d settle for a life I never expected to have happy and healthy kids.

  “You know as well as I do that flying all over the world for all my causes isn’t possible anymore.”

  “But will you be happy in this new role?”

  “I don’t know, Eli.” I sighed. “All I can hope for is that I find a project that can keep my focus without being a liability for Ashur. I’m not polished or sophisticated or well-groomed for the role I’m in. The one project I could have gotten involved in I gave to my predecessor and she’s gone global with the endeavor.”

  A little over three years ago, I had been part of a Solon operation focused on stopping an underground ring specializing in the sale of child brides on US soil. This group targeted poor immigrant families from the Middle East and Asia, who were struggling financially and barely living above the poverty line. These parents sold their daughters to wealthy men who were looking
for a legal way into the United States. The girls had no choice in what happened to them, and if they refused, they were either thrown out of their homes or physically harmed. These parents viewed the dowry earned more than worth giving up a child to a man who could be five times their age.

  My team had flown to Pakistan where some of the girls were being held and bartered for their safe release. I knew when I’d gone in that the men I was meeting with were on the US terror watch list, but my priority had been to free the seventy-plus American girls being held until their “fiancés” could come to get them. I’d negotiated their release, but an American conservative reporter had recognized me from my international casework, taken pictures, and then written a piece about me. It had caused a national stir, and President Edgar had made it his mission to make an example of me. He hadn’t cared that I’d fought to bring back American citizens who were being held in captivity; it had only mattered that he could make an example of me and use it as a platform to campaign for reelection.

  Thankfully, Jacinta and Samina had come to my rescue. They’d introduced me to First Lady Amanda Edgar, who was looking for something that distinguished herself from her inflammatory husband and together we created the No Bride Initiative, focused on stopping the epidemic of child brides in America. I never expected Mrs. Edgar to have such a passion for the work, but she had, and now it had become an international organization. And thus, I was left without something that I could grab onto as my lifeline in the political world I would never belong.

  “You don’t have to fit into the roles other first ladies took on. You can be yourself.”

  I gave her my “are you kidding me?” look.

  “Listen to what I have to say before you tune me out.”

  “Fine. Go ahead.”

  “You can still be part of Solon, just not in the field. Nearly all past directors took hands-off behind-the-scenes roles. You’re the only one who has ever taken active field assignments after climbing the ranks.”

  “So, you think I can do my first lady duties, have lots of little Kumar babies, and run operations for Solon?”

  “Without a doubt. You ran a successful law practice with crazy, high-profile clients, took on pro-bono cases that made international headlines, and had an additional over-the-top demanding career without cracking.”

  Well, when she put it that way, why not add a couple of kids, political jockeying, and a sexy-as-sin president to the mix?

  Not! Taking all of that on would write me a first-class ticket to Looneyville.

  “I think you give me too much credit.”

  “I’m only telling you how I see it.”

  “It’s too late, even if I wanted to change my mind. I had my resignation meeting two months ago when I joined Ashur on his presidential tour of Europe.”

  She set her tablet in front of me and pointed at the document she’d pulled from our secure cloud. “According to your contract, you can rescind any resignation within six months of notification.”

  “And how would you know this?”

  She lifted a brow. “I read everything that passes over my desk.”

  “And?” I folded my arms across my body.

  “And today I received a special courier delivery with a rebuttal letter from the board saying they will wait six months before making your resignation official, per your contract. This means you can still change your mind.”

  I released a sigh. “You’re like a pit bull with a bone. Fine. I’ll think about it.”

  “That’s all I ask.” She checked her watch. “Now, time for the fitting you’re determined to avoid.”

  I frowned, moved from around my desk, and headed to meet the designer of my gown.

  Chapter Eight

  Around ten thirty, I wrapped up the fitting and any remaining paperwork. This left me with enough time to get to the Executive Residence before the pre-wedding briefing. It almost sounded ridiculous to have such precautions for a wedding, but then I wasn’t marrying a regular man and the security needed for the media frenzy was twice as intense as it had been for Ashur’s inauguration day.

  Samina and Jacinta were used to the spotlight of the camera, but the rest of the wedding party wasn’t, and I wanted to make sure they understood all the precautions we’d put in place. Everyone who was part of the wedding, from the parents and friends to extended family, would stay at the Invictus, a hotel owned by one of Jacinta’s close friends, Kevin Stanton. He’d literally shut down the entire building to house the wedding party and increased security so much that Ashur had joked it was more protected than Fort Knox. The only people not staying at the hotel were the invited international dignitaries. They caused a security nightmare that required their own hotel and team.

  “Good morning, First Lady,” came a voice to my left as I entered the main hall.

  A middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper hair and one of the sweetest demeanors I’d ever encountered smiled at me. She was one of the morning housekeepers who kept everything dust free and sparkling. She had worked for the last three administrations and knew all the ins and outs of the building. She could have retired years ago, but she enjoyed her position and as she’d told me not so long ago, she refused to let some know-it-all take her job and change things.

  “I’m not first lady yet, Eleanor.”

  “In less than twenty-four hours you will be, and then you can redecorate this place with your own sense of style.” Eleanor turned her nose up at a few antique figurines near her, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

  I could always use a dose of Eleanor to cheer me up. Too bad my decorating sense was lacking. I wasn’t sure she’d approve of anything I’d pick. Now show me some designer clothing or an arsenal of handguns, and I was the girl for the job.

  “I’ll make sure to consult you before deciding on anything. You would know better than anyone what this place needs to liven it up. Does that sound like a plan?”

  Her eyes lit up. “I would love that.”

  “Ms. Zain, this way. Your family is waiting for you in the Yellow Oval Room to go over the final details of the wedding.” Casey directed me up a flight of stairs leading to the second floor.

  The moment I stepped onto the landing, I saw Veer George, Ashur’s vice-president and Jacinta’s husband. He was as handsome as Ashur but with a sexy pirate-ish edge, probably due to the scar that ran down his right cheek. He wore his jet-black hair a bit longer than one expected a politician to have, which added to his rakish appearance.

  Recently a celebrity magazine voted him the “sexiest man of the year.” He’d hated that title, but Jacinta loved it. Who didn’t want a husband who was hot as sin and totally into her?

  As Jacinta would say, she was one lucky bitch.

  Veer’s hazel eyes were filled with amusement the second I came into view.

  “Where are you off to?” I asked, since he was the best man and was supposed to be in the meeting with the wedding party.

  “I’ve got to make a quick call. Then I’ll join you in the Yellow Oval Room.”

  I shook my head. “Is Papa-in-law in there?”

  “Yep. As is the whole wedding party.”

  “Sam decided on the room, didn’t she?”

  “Does that question really need an answer?”

  “I guess not.” I laughed.

  Samina knew her father hated the color yellow and therefore that was the room everyone would use whenever Minesh Kumar was around.

  It was Sam’s passive-aggressive way of annoying the shit out of her father. And if I was honest about it, I loved her sick sense of vengeance.

  “I better stop dawdling and head in there.”

  “Subtle has never worked with him. Just be straightforward,” Veer said with a gleam in his eye.

  “Should I assume that you heard about our family dinner?”

  “Possibly. All I can say is that it was about time.” Veer kissed my cheek and headed down the hall.

  “Let’s go, Casey. Hopefully, Ashur won’t be too long.�
�

  As I took the corner, an unexpected level of worry rolled into the pit of my stomach. I covered my abdomen with my palm and tried to push back the uneasiness.

  Tomorrow, I’d live here. In this palatial home as the first lady.

  Gone was the daughter of the no-name technology programmer and nurse, gone was the human rights attorney, and definitely gone was the North American director of Solon.

  It had killed me not to strap my thigh piece on today, but my mother had ordered me not to have it on me at any time during the wedding. We’d never finished our garden conversation but I’d gotten the gist of her message. She was right—I couldn’t risk my future for the life I’d agreed to step away from.

  Just as I approached the doors to the Yellow Oval Room, Leara Crawford, Ashur’s personal secretary, approached me.

  She wore a tailored gray suit, with a fire-engine red blouse underneath and matching Louboutin heels. At near seventy, Leara was stylish in the way women dreamed of being at any age. I so wanted to be her when I grew up.

  “Hi, Leara.”

  “Ms. Zain,” she responded, making me frown. It still took me a second to get used to how people formally addressed me, especially when I’d known them outside of the political world.

  Before joining Ashur’s team, Leara had been a policy research specialist at the United Nations. She was my go-to expert for various cases. And because of her, I was able to navigate countless situations that required an in-depth knowledge of laws in non-US-friendly countries.

  “Do I want to know what’s going on in there?”

  A smile touched Leara’s lips. “There is a level of frost growing on the light fixtures that makes me think you’ll need a jacket to ward off the chill.”

  “So, no friendly conversations and excitement for the wedding?” I asked, knowing anything in that realm of that line of thinking was a long shot when Minesh Kumar was in the vicinity.

  She shook her head in response.

  Leara had been privy to Minesh Kumar’s explosion of anger when he’d learned I was the one Ashur had asked to marry. The man had refused to accept the engagement and went as far as to tell Ashur he’d disown him for marrying filth like me and to threaten that I’d lose my fancy career with the right words from him.