by Dee Davis
“I don’t see how that matters. He’s hardly important in the grand scheme of things.” Leon’s tone was cold and dismissive.
Riley wondered what he’d think if she told him just how important Jake Mahoney had become to her. She shook her head, clearing the thought. It had been one kiss. Nothing more. And if she was tempted to make it into something else, she had only to remember their conversation afterward to know what he really thought of her.
Still, there was a principle here.
“The point isn’t whether Jake is a player, Leon. The point is that you lied to me.”
“We didn’t lie, Riley. We just didn’t tell you. It didn’t seem relevant.”
“Well, it was relevant. First, you accused the man of something he most definitely did not do, and then, to make it all worse, you let him believe it was me that did it. I will not tolerate being manipulated in that manner, Leon. Do I make myself clear?” The statement would have had more power if her voice wasn’t quivering.
Damn it.
“Darlin’.” Her father reached for her hands, his eyes soft. Some of her anger dissipated immediately. “Leon and I only want what’s best for you. And I was worried that this man might cause trouble.”
“For the campaign, you mean.” She tried but couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice.
“Well, unfortunately the campaign is our life at the moment. There simply isn’t any way to separate the two. But that doesn’t mean I’ll let it intrude on your life to the point that it puts you in harm’s way.”
“Daddy, you’re acting like there really is some sort of threat out there. Is there something you’re not telling me?” She looked first at her father and then at Leon.
“No, but someone blew up that car, Riley,” Leon answered. “We can’t ignore that. And there’s the little matter of Michaels’s death.”
“Both of which are not related to me. I was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, and if it hadn’t been for Jake Mahoney, I might be dead.”
“And we’re grateful to him for that.” Her father’s words were meant to pacify, but they only agitated her more.
“Of course you are.” She glared first at Leon, then at her father. “So grateful that you practically got the man fired.”
“Riley, we are trying to do what’s best for you and for the campaign,” her father said. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you about the phone call. But the stakes are too high for us to take chances. Maybe Jake Mahoney is an innocent bystander in all this, but then again, maybe he’s not. Until we know which way the wind is blowing, I want you to stay away from the man.”
“Daddy . . .” She tried but failed to keep the exasperation out of her voice.
“I’m probably being overprotective, darlin’, but you’re my baby and I’m not taking any chances.”
“We’re all under a lot of stress.” Leon moved to stand by the window, looking out into the night. “It’ll be over soon.”
“And we’ll have a whole new set of problems.” Riley tipped back her head, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples.
“Part of the game, princess.” Her father’s words were low, soothing.
Jake had called her a princess too. But he hadn’t meant it kindly. She shivered, remembering his touch, wondering suddenly if there was truth in the things he’d said to her at the party.
She opened her eyes, smiling at her father. Jake Mahoney was a stranger. He didn’t know her at all. There was no reason to believe anything he said. Her place was here with the people she loved. They only wanted to protect her—even if they were a bit overzealous.
“Next time, tell me what you’re going to do. I hate being blindsided. And maybe, while you’re at it, have a little more faith in me. I’m tougher than you think.”
It was Leon’s turn to smile. “Of course you’re tough. But old habits die hard. And we love you.”
“I know you do.” She sighed, hugging first Leon and then her father.
“Things will seem better in the morning.” Her father held her close, his familiar scent comforting.
The wind rattled the glass in the window, and through it she could see the balcony railing, stark against a flash of lightning. She wanted her father to be right. But somehow, she had the horrible feeling the storm had only just begun.
“Sounds like it was a hell of a party.” David Mackenna sipped his beer, his lips twitching as he struggled to contain his laughter.
Jake frowned at his friend. “I lost my temper. I admit it.”
“It seems to me that’s not all you lost.” David’s grin broke out in full force.
Jake was surprised to feel the heat of a blush. “It was just a kiss. I got carried away in the moment. It sure as hell isn’t going to lead to anything else.”
“Not if her henchmen have anything to say about it.”
“I’ve taken on henchmen before. They don’t scare me. It isn’t leading to anything else because I don’t want it to.”
“Right.” David’s look turned mocking.
Jake frowned at his friend, determined to change the subject. “Look, as much as I’m enjoying your clever innuendos about my love life—or lack thereof—that’s not why we’re here. On the phone you said you’d found something.”
“I did.” David sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Hank Larsen’s fire wasn’t an accident.”
The beginnings of excitement curled through Jake’s insides. “You’re positive?”
David smiled. “Oh yeah. The accelerant was a tricky little bastard to find, but I’m a persistent son of a gun.”
“There’s an understatement.” Jake lifted his beer in a mock salute.
“Now all I have to do is figure out who put it there.” David drained the rest of his beer and squinted at the empty glass. “Another round?”
“Sure. If nothing else, we can celebrate my inability to think with anything besides my—”
“Jake.” Lacey Anderson, late Mahoney, smiled benignly at them, her voice carrying across the crowded bar.
“Case in point,” Jake groaned. This was rapidly turning into the week from hell.
“Any idea what she’s doing here?” David asked, his face expressing the revulsion Jake was feeling.
“None. But then when the hell did she ever tell me anything?”
“Long time no see, darling.” Lacey sidled to a stop in front of their table, drink in hand, and bent to kiss him full on the lips. There was a time when he’d lived for her touch, but not anymore. He leaned back, distancing himself, wondering what the hell had possessed him to ever get mixed up with her in the first place.
“Out slumming, Lacey?” Jake tried but couldn’t contain the contempt in his voice.
“As usual, Jake, you’re behind the times. The Dugout has turned into quite the hot spot. A wonderful place to see and be seen, if you know what I mean.”
“I never know what you mean, Lacey.”
“Anyway,” she said, ignoring his barbs, “I’m here with friends, and I saw you across the room. I should have known you’d be here.” She tilted her head, her smile crooked, inviting. “You are a creature of habit after all.”
He had no idea if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but coming from Lacey, he suspected the latter. His ex-wife had never been one for the status quo. Lacey wanted the best life had to offer, preferably served to her on a silver platter. Jake’s blue collar tendencies had always been a bone of contention, and when it had become apparent he wasn’t going to shed them for Lacey’s upper class ideals, she’d dropped him like a hot potato.
“Yeah, well, I like life to be predictable.” Not that it had been of late.
“Apparently that applies to your choice of friends. Same old, same old.” She shot a disdainful look at David. The two of them had never gotten along. And it looked as if nothing had changed.
David frowned. “Hello, Lacey.”
Her smile faded slightly, but she held his gaze steadily. “David.” She nodded in his dir
ection, then dismissed him, pulling up a chair, her attention centered on Jake. “I’m glad I’ve run into you, actually. We need to arrange a time for me to come by.”
“Come by where?”
“The apartment, silly.” She smiled, her perfect face dimpling in all the right places. “Didn’t you read my letter?”
“Haven’t had time to read any mail lately.” No sense in admitting he’d eighty-sixed it without even opening the thing.
“Well,” she smiled, drawing out the moment, “I’m getting married.” She held out her hand, flashing a diamond that was bigger than her knuckle.
David whistled. “That must have set some poor sucker back a tidy sum.”
“It’s one of a kind.” Lacey twisted her hand, studying the ring, oblivious to everything else.
Jake swallowed his surprise, not certain how he was supposed to feel. Relieved, delighted, hell, he felt like buying a round for the bar. “So who’s the lucky guy?”
“Martin Schlembauger.”
“The industrial tycoon? Isn’t he pushing a hundred?” David was trying hard not to laugh.
Lacey straightened her shoulders, her eyes shooting sparks. “He’s only seventy-five.”
“And incredibly rich.” David’s voice dripped sarcasm.
“So,” Jake said, determined to pull the conversation back to a civilized level, “you said you wanted to come by the apartment?”
“Oh. Right.” She turned her attention back to him, her plastic smile turning coy.
What in hell had ever made him think that Riley O’Brien was anything like Lacey? They were nothing alike. Lacey was money-hungry and shallow. Riley was the real deal. Class all the way. He suddenly felt ashamed of his earlier outburst. He’d hurt her. And with no good reason. He’d let his pride get in his way.
She shouldn’t have called the dogs on him, but that hadn’t been an excuse for him to launch into her the way he had. There’d been pain in her eyes. Pain that he’d put there. And all because he’d let himself believe she was like his ex.
Damn it to hell.
“Jake . . .” Lacey covered his hand with hers, pulling him back to the present. “You’re not listening.”
“I’m sorry. I was distracted. You were saying . . .” He forced a smile, feigning interest. Behind her head, David was rolling his eyes.
“I was saying that I still have some boxes at the apartment. And I’d like to get them, if you don’t mind. We’re moving to Savannah, and I want all my things.”
“I thought you’d want to buy everything new.” He unsuccessfully tried to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
As usual, Lacey missed the undertone. “Oh, I am. But there are still things I’d like to keep. There are some things about our time together that are worth remembering.”
He couldn’t think of a single one. “Well, you’re welcome to come get whatever you want. I’ll have the boxes brought up from the basement.”
She patted his hand like he was a prize poodle. “I knew you’d understand.” She sat back, her look turning appraising. “That was some picture in the paper—you straddling Riley O’Brien. It must have been quite exciting.”
“The woman was almost killed, and my car was destroyed; I hardly think that qualifies as exciting.”
“Well, you rescued the senator’s daughter. Seems like you ought to be able to turn that into an opportunity for advancement.”
Leave it to his ex to see the mercenary angle. “I don’t want to advance anywhere, Lacey. I’m perfectly happy just as I am.”
“Well, it just seems to me like the perfect chance to maneuver yourself into something a little more impressive, Jake. I mean, the man is going to be the next President. And he ought to be incredibly grateful. You should be able to parlay that into something.”
God, some things never changed. And Lacey was one of them. He wondered suddenly if old Marty knew what he was getting into. He probably ought to warn the guy. But then again, it really wasn’t any of his business. And that in and of itself was a wonderful feeling.
“I didn’t rescue the woman from terrorists, Lacey. I just tackled her.”
“The picture in the paper made it look quite intimate.” She raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow.
“There was a bomb going off. And the woman is practically a stranger. There is nothing intimate about that.” But there had been. Despite it all, there had been.
“I see.” There was a world of innuendo in the remark.
“No, you don’t see anything at all.”
“Or,” David added, “more likely, you only see what you want to see.”
Lacey laughed. “I’d forgotten how blunt you are, David.” She pushed back from the table, fixing her attention on Jake. “I really should be getting back to my friends. It was lovely to see you, darling. I’ll be by for the boxes in the next day or so.” She leaned over and planted another kiss. This one sensual, designed to excite.
It left him cold.
His mind focused instead on another kiss. One that, despite his wishes to the contrary, had rocked his entire world.
The question was, what was he going to do about it?
Maudeen lay back against the pillows of the guest bed, trying not to fret. Carter should have been back by now. The hands on the clock indicated that it was late. Very late. So either he’d come back and she’d missed the sound, or he was still out.
She knew she shouldn’t borrow problems. She had nothing conclusive to go on. Nothing except woman’s intuition. But she put a lot of stock in that. Things were spiraling out of control. Carter and his dalliances were becoming a threat.
She was aware that from time to time he had sex with other women. He’d done it from the beginning. The reality was, Carter’s wandering heart had brought him to her in the first place. To date, his indiscretions had been few and far between, and she’d never doubted that she was the one he loved.
But that was changing. She could feel it. Feel him slipping away. There was a woman in D.C. One of the staffers. She was half their age, all tits and hair. And until now, only a nuisance. But suddenly she wasn’t feeling so confident.
The door to the room opened and Carter stood there, looking perfectly pressed, despite the hour. His handsome face curved into a grin. “Hello, darlin’, miss me?”
He’d been drinking. There was a slight slur, almost undetectable if you didn’t know him. But she did. Really well. He crossed the room, sitting on the bed, leaning over to kiss her. She smelled Shalimar, sweet and cloying, and not her fragrance.
Damn him.
“I couldn’t sleep.” She fought for control, not wanting a confrontation.
“Well, maybe I can help relax you.” His voice was warm and lazy, his breath warm on her face.
“Where’ve you been?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth she regretted them.
His face changed, shuttering. “Just out. I needed to think.”
Unless she missed her guess, thinking had not been on the agenda. “I see.”
“Ah, Maudeen, give it a rest, darlin’. I’m here now. That’s what matters, right?”
She supposed in some absurd sort of way he was right. But this wasn’t how she wanted things to end between them. Stolen moments when he was between lovers. She wasn’t about to give up all the years she’d invested in him simply because he couldn’t keep his zipper up.
She reached for the buttons on his shirt, easing his shirt open, running her hands over the broad expanse of his chest. He growled his approval and, after removing the rest of his clothes, climbed into bed, his warmth radiating out to envelop her. She laid her head on his chest, conscious of the strong beat of his heart.
He sighed, closing his eyes, his arms wrapping around her.
“Carter?” She sucked in a fortifying breath. “Do you love me?” She lay in the dark, waiting for his answer, knowing it wasn’t going to come. And not because he’d fallen asleep. No, the answer wasn’t coming because Carter O’Brien didn’t love anyone b
ut himself.
Riley. Where are you? Riley . . . Riley?
Riley jerked out of sleep, her heart hammering. Caroline. She sat up, swinging out of bed, her eyes searching for her sister, her ears straining into the darkness.
There was nothing.
She drew in a shuddering breath, trying to gain control of her emotions. It had only been a dream. Caroline was dead.
Dead.
She was overwrought. And so she’d imagined her sister’s voice. Maybe even willed herself to hear it. She needed someone to confide in. Someone who could tell her what to do. Everything was so confusing.
Especially her feelings about Jake.
She walked to the window, looking out at the rain-swept night. The storm had never fully materialized, although the occasional flash of lightning still held promise. With a sigh, she leaned her head against the cool windowpane.
All she could think of was the kiss. The kiss and the man behind it.
One moment he seemed gentle, almost cherishing, and the next, he had sucked her soul through her lips, only to spit it back at her in a swirl of anger. He confused her, entranced her, and generally made her furious. Not the least of it, the fact that he believed she’d been the one to call his paper.
It shouldn’t matter. Leon was right. In the grand scheme of things he wasn’t likely to impact her life, but she couldn’t stop wishing that he would. The thought was crazy, but it was there nevertheless. Haunting her.
Like Caroline.
She shivered at the thought. She was acting like a loon. Seeing things. Hearing things. Making mountains out of molehills. She turned back to the room, determined to go back to sleep. To push all thoughts of Jake Mahoney firmly aside.
She was a grown woman, and there was no point behaving like an adolescent. If Caroline were here, she’d no doubt tell her to get a grip. Jake had made his feelings for her perfectly clear. He thought she was shallow and opportunistic. And he believed she’d betrayed him.
But she hadn’t—she hadn’t.
She sat on the edge of the bed and reached to turn on the lamp, the flash of light blinding her for a moment. She closed her eyes and then slowly opened them again, her breath catching in her throat.