Bedroom Diplomacy

Home > Other > Bedroom Diplomacy > Page 13
Bedroom Diplomacy Page 13

by Michelle Celmer


  Though she wanted to run down the stairs, meet him in the foyer and throw her arms around him the instant he walked in the door, she forced herself to sit on the sofa in her suite and calmly wait while Colin dropped his things in his room, changed, then stopped by to see her. She tried to ignore the frantic flutter of her heart, the blush rising up in her cheeks. She was behaving like a giddy teenager with an adolescent crush.

  The firm knock barely a minute later startled her.

  Puzzled, she walked to the door and opened it. She saw a flash of dark clothing and spiky blond hair, and then Colin’s arms were around her, his lips on hers, his slow, deep kiss short-circuiting her brain. And before she could stop them, her arms were around his shoulders.

  Whoa, she had not expected this kind of enthusiasm.

  Colin squeezed her tight, burying his face in her hair. “You feel so good and smell so good.” He nuzzled her neck. “I didn’t realize until the car pulled up in front how much I missed you.”

  “Really?”

  He cupped her face in his hands. “No, that’s a lie. I’ve been missing you since you left D.C.”

  “I missed you, too,” she admitted. “I’m glad you’re staying another week.”

  “What if another week isn’t enough?”

  “I guess it will just have to be.”

  “What if I want more?”

  Confused, she asked, “More? More what?”

  “More of you, more of us.”

  If she hadn’t caught it at the last second, her jaw would have hit the floor.

  And she could swear it took a full minute to wrap her mind around the concept. Then she asked the next logical question. “How much more?”

  “I’ve never done this before, never even wanted to take next step. Hell, I’m not even sure what the next step is. I just know another week isn’t going to cut it.”

  “Are you saying you want to date?”

  “Is that crazy?” he asked, looking as if he honestly wasn’t sure.

  “Not crazy, but logistically I’m not sure how it’s going to work, because you’re not allowed to date me. I’m off-limits, remember? And until you have my father’s full support on that treaty, you’ll be taking a huge chance. If we start seeing each other in social settings, it will get back to him eventually. And what are you going to do? Move to Los Angeles?”

  “I could, temporarily.”

  “And then what? You mentioned a security job. Where would that be?”

  “My friend has offices in London and New York.”

  “All Dylan’s doctors and therapists are here. Do you see how complicated it could be?” And all for a few more months of good sex, because when all was said and done, it would still end. “Do you see what I mean?”

  He sighed and sat on the sofa. “You’re right. Logistically it would be a nightmare.”

  “What would be even more complicated is hiding it from Dylan. He’s already very attached to you. He kept mentioning you all week.”

  “Did he?”

  “Are you ready for that kind of responsibility?”

  She could see from his expression that he wasn’t.

  She sat down beside him. “This is why you don’t date single moms. Too much baggage. And I’ve got more than most.”

  “I wish I was ready for that, or at least knew when I would be ready,” he said.

  “You know, I think for a while I’d like to be on my own. Completely on my own. So I’ll have time to settle into independence, taking care of myself.”

  “You’re going to do great.”

  She was beginning to think so, too. And though she did want to be independent, she could very easily see herself falling in love with Colin. In fact, she was probably a little in love with him already. He was the first man she’d ever met who really seemed to get her. But she and Dylan were a package deal. Now if Colin were to come to her and say he loved her and was ready to be a dad, that would be a different story entirely. But only if he really meant it. But she had the feeling Colin didn’t say things he didn’t mean.

  “I forgot to tell you,” he said. “I got a call today from a Hayden Black. I understand that he’s a rather famous criminal investigator.”

  “The name does found familiar.”

  “Well, it seems that he’s been hired to investigate the ANS hacking, and will interview the victims in Montana where the president and his ex grew up. He heard that I had an interest in the investigation and wondered if I had any information to share.”

  “Did you?”

  “Nothing that he didn’t already know. But the senator gave him the CD. It’s just a relief to know that they have a professional investigator working the case. Hopefully things will move faster.”

  “We’ve had some excitement around here while you were gone,” she said. At his puzzled look, she nodded to him to follow her. “You’ll see.”

  They walked to Dylan’s room and stopped in the hall just outside. The new gate was in place in the doorway, and the light from the hall cast a dim glow inside, just enough for them to make out Dylan curled up on his new big-boy bed—a twin mattress on the floor.

  “You got it,” Colin whispered.

  “You should have seen how excited he was. He loves it. He brags to everyone at day care that he’s a big boy now. We went shopping and I let him pick out sheets and a comforter. Race cars, of course.”

  “So it’s working out well?” Colin asked, slipping his arm around her shoulders.

  She wished he wouldn’t do things like that. It just felt so…domesticated. And he smelled so good she wanted to eat him up.

  “It’s perfect,” she said. “I’ll keep the mattress on the floor for a while and see how he does, and when he’s ready we’ll pick out a frame.”

  “You know, there’s another bed across the hall that I’d like to see.” He dipped his head and kissed the side of her neck. “And I wouldn’t mind trying it out either. Since I’m already here.”

  “When will my father be home?”

  He nibbled the shell of her ear. “Not until tomorrow. And if you think about it, it would be safer for me to leave in the middle of the night, when everyone is asleep.”

  She turned, pushing up onto her toes to kiss him, and could practically feel the neurons in her brain misfiring.

  And by the sizzling grin, the hungry look in his eyes as he pulled her toward her bedroom, she had the feeling that her mattress was in for one heck of a workout.

  *

  Colin woke the next morning with the eerie feeling that someone was watching him. He opened his eyes and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw, just inches from his face, Dylan at the side of the bed, smiling.

  “Hi, Cowin!”

  The clock said it was seven-thirty. Bloody hell. He had meant to go back to his own suite last night, but must have fallen asleep. “Hey, bud, what are you doing out of bed? And how did you get out of your room?”

  “Cwimed out,” he said, beaming with pride.

  So much for the gate keeping him contained. If he could climb out of a crib, why not over a baby gate, as well?

  Colin reached over to shake Rowena awake. “Houston, we have a problem.”

  She grumbled a protest, which was surely due to the fact that they had only gotten four hours of sleep, and batted his hand away.

  “You need to wake up.”

  She shook her head, her hair a tousled mess, and mumbled groggily, “Too early.”

  “Yes, but we have company.”

  She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, then pushed up on her elbows. “What compan…?”

  She trailed off as she looked over at Colin and saw Dylan standing there. She shot up in bed as if the sheets were on fire.

  “Dylan! Why aren’t you in your room?”

  “He climbed out,” Colin said, and Dylan flashed her one of those big, radiant smiles.

  “I a big boy!”

  She must have decided that scolding him would be a waste of time, because she took a deep, ca
lming breath, pasted on a tense smile and said, “You sure are, sweetie. Why don’t you go turn on the television while Mommy wakes up?”

  “Okay, Mommy.”

  He toddled out of the room and Rowena fell back against the pillows. “Damn. Damn, damn, damn.”

  “I’m sorry, Rowena. This is all my fault. I was exhausted from the long flight and I fell asleep. I feel terrible.”

  “We can’t keep doing this.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “From now on, we only meet in the pool house.”

  “Agreed. Are you angry with me?”

  “This is as much my fault as it is yours. More, really. I agreed to let you stay. I figured that even if Dylan did wake up, he would be confined to his room. Worst case scenario, I would just have to sneak you out.”

  “Good intentions.”

  “Exactly. And I should get up and go check on him. And we need to get you out of here.”

  “First, I wanted to ask you…I know you can’t officially be my date Saturday, but it might be fun to pretend we don’t like one another, then try to steal a little time together.”

  Looking confused, she said, “I’m sorry, what’s going on Saturday?”

  “Your father’s annual ball.”

  “Oh, yeah, I completely forgot about that.”

  “You will save a dance for me.”

  “I would if I was going to be there.”

  “You’re not?”

  “I’m going to be traveling.”

  What? She hadn’t said a word to him about leaving. “Where are you going?”

  “Or I might have the flu.”

  The flu? Didn’t she just have the flu? “I’m confused.”

  “In light of my past behavior at his parties, I’ve been officially and permanently exiled from the guest list. Three years ago I was pregnant and on bed rest. The year after that I was taking care of Dylan, who had come down with a miserable cold. Last year…” She paused, nose wrinkled as she tried to recall, and then her eyes lit. “Oh, I remember. Last year I was visiting a sick friend.”

  “Is it any coincidence that every excuse puts you in a sympathetic light?”

  “It’s a silly formality. Everyone knows why I’m not there. It’s been so long since I’ve been out in public, everyone may still think I’m an addict. Or more likely, they’ve forgotten all about me. At least, that’s probably what the senator hopes.”

  “What is it that he thinks you’re going to do?” Colin asked.

  “I might tell a raunchy joke in mixed company, or trip on the corner of the rug and snap the heel off my shoe. I may get a little too ‘friendly’ with the ambassador’s son on the dance floor. Or, my personal favorite, spill a double martini on the vice president.”

  “Sounds as if you were the life of the party.”

  “I was a walking, talking, sometimes slurring example of how not to conduct oneself at a formal gathering. I really don’t blame him for not wanting me there.”

  From the other room Colin heard a knock on the suite door.

  “It’s probably Betty,” she said. “Dylan will get it.”

  Colin heard the door open, then a deep voice that, unless she had started male hormone therapy, could not be Betty’s. Dylan cried, “Papa! You home!”

  Rowena looked over at Colin, eyes wide, and said, “Hide.”

  Fifteen

  “Where?” Colin said in a harsh whisper.

  “I don’t care.” Rowena jumped out of bed and yanked her robe on, frantically trying to recall if they had left anything incriminating lying around the living room. “In the bathroom, under the bed. Anywhere.”

  On her way out she closed the bedroom door. She couldn’t imagine what reason her father might have for looking in her room, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

  He was sitting on the sofa with Dylan in his lap, who was talking animatedly about something.

  “Good morning,” she said, forcing a yawn. “I thought I heard the door.”

  “Dylan was just showing me his boo-boo. It seems to be healing well. Good thing Colin was around to help.”

  “It sure was, wasn’t it?” she told Dylan with a smile. Then it froze like plastic on her face as her heart began to pound. Oh, no. What if Dylan told his papa other things about Colin, like seeing him in Mommy’s bed this morning?

  She’d barely completed the thought when Dylan said, “Cowin be my daddy.”

  “Your daddy?” her father said, shooting her a look.

  “Dylan,” she said, hoping she sounded calm and rational, and not as if she were about to have a coronary. “Remember what we talked about? Just because Colin fixed your boo-boo doesn’t mean he’s going to be your daddy.”

  “He sweep over!”

  Damn, damn, damn. She had to think quickly. “Yes, sweetie, he’s been sleeping over at Papa’s house. They’re working together, remember?” Before Dylan could respond, she said, “Why don’t you go brush your teeth and make your bed? Then Mommy will give you your bath.”

  “’Kay, Mommy.” He gave his papa a kiss on the cheek and toddled off to his room.

  “I see that we slept in this morning,” her father said with enough bite in his tone to make it clear that he disapproved.

  “It’s only seven-thirty.”

  “You don’t think Dylan is a little young to be roaming around unsupervised?”

  “Roaming around? You make him sound like a sheep.”

  “You know what I mean. What if he were to hurt himself?”

  She was so sick of having to explain herself, as if he had ever been an attentive parent. “He woke up five minutes ago, and I was putting my robe on when you knocked.”

  “I’d like us to meet this week and discuss the menu for the day-care center.”

  “Discuss what?”

  “Your snack choices.”

  “Is there something wrong with them?”

  “They could be healthier. More whole grains, no processed sugar, skim milk.”

  And how about something the kids would actually like to eat?

  “The last thing I need in an election year is some uptight, sign-wielding parent advocacy group targeting us for giving the kids a deficient diet.”

  “I’ve talked to you before about going organic, but you said it was too expensive.”

  “Then you’ll just have to tighten the budget in other areas.”

  And wouldn’t that be fun? Well, he wouldn’t be her problem much longer.

  “I’ll have Margaret call you to set up a meeting.”

  “Okay.”

  After a few more random insults targeted mostly at her housekeeping and parenting skills—for example, if she didn’t teach Dylan to pick up his toys now, he would never learn and become a spoiled brat, as she had been—he left. Why did their conversations always leave her feeling exhausted and emotionally stripped bare?

  “Wow.”

  She turned to see Colin walking out of the bedroom wearing only the slacks he’d had on last night. “Wow what?”

  “Does he always speak to you like that? In such a condescending tone?”

  “It’s slightly different than how he speaks to me in public, huh?”

  “He addresses you like you’re a child. How can you not tell him to bugger off?”

  “Like I told you, he owns me.”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t slavery abolished during the Lincoln administration? Eighteen sixty-four, I believe.”

  “Eighteen sixty-five. But he’s a senator. The rules don’t apply to him.”

  “There’s something I want you to do,” Colin said. “Something I think you need to do.”

  “What?”

  He told her and she couldn’t help laughing. “Why on earth would I do that?”

  “Because everyone needs to rebel occasionally. And because it could be fun.” With a grin he added, “And because the senator pissed me off, and I’d like to see him squirm.”

  “You don’t think it would be a litt
le immature of us?”

  “Nothing wrong with being immature every now and then, either.”

  She couldn’t deny that it might be a little fun, and the fact that her father might blow a gasket, childish as it was, was a definite perk.

  “Okay,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

  *

  At eight-thirty Saturday evening Rowena faced the mirror, studying her reflection. The dramatic makeup, the bloodred nails, the upswept do that had taken fifteen tries to get right, and last but not least, the floor-length, cap-sleeved black crepe dress that never went out of style—and still fit with the aid of a pair of Spanx.

  With her painted toenails and stiletto heels—which were already mercilessly pinching her toes—the overall effect was not half bad. The rinse she’d used on her hair made it shine, and the foundation Tricia had insisted she try cast an almost ethereal glow on her face. And completely hid her freckles, which was an added bonus.

  In fact, she looked pretty darned sexy, if she did say so herself. It was hard to imagine that the last time she’d worn this dress, or fixed herself up for any sort of occasion, Dylan hadn’t even been a twinkle in her eye. It was astounding how much had changed since then. How much she’d changed.

  She applied one last swipe of glossy red lipstick, took a deep breath to quiet her nerves, grabbed her handbag, then walked to the living room where Betty was watching television.

  “So what do you think?” Rowena asked.

  Betty turned to look at her, and her jaw dropped. “Holy canoli! Rowena, you look amazing, like a princess.”

  “You think so?”

  “I’ve never seen you look more beautiful. And you’re sure you want to do this?”

  “Colin is right. I need to do this. I need to start asserting my independence or I’m going to wind up in a rubber room. I’m sick of feeling like my father’s dirty little secret. I’ve been thinking about how Colin reacted when he heard the way my father talks to me. He was horrified. So I tried to hear it from his perspective, to look at it objectively.”

  “And what did you hear?”

  “Condescension, disrespect, disappointment. I’m his daughter, and I’m sure deep down somewhere he loves me. But I’ve come to the conclusion that he doesn’t like me very much. But you know what? I don’t like him either.”

 

‹ Prev