by Lisa Durkin
“Indeed, she is a very beautiful woman.” His smile remained as he continued. “Nicole, I get the feeling you’re trying to tell me something.”
Nicole leaned back in her chair and looked at the congressman. “I won’t beat around the bush, no pun intended. You are known to enjoy the company of the ladies. That is your prerogative. You are a very handsome man and you are unattached. Always unattached, aren’t you.” This was not stated in the form of a question and she continued. “There’s nothing wrong with that. We’re all adults. Rory is an adult and while she isn’t as worldly as you, she’s not a prude.”
“Yes, I have been unattached for some time, and I have enjoyed the company of many ladies. Many, many ladies if I were to be honest.” He gazed into Nicole’s eyes with a polite smile still in residence upon his lips. “Is my reputation something you wish your congresswoman to avoid association with?”
Nicole laughed and held out her hand. “In a manner, Congressman Dorn, only in a manner. See, I happen to like the way Rory has responded to the attention you’ve given her. As I’m sure you’re aware, Rory has been through events in her life that would leave lesser people paralyzed. And while Rory functions well in her capacity as congresswoman, she still remains arrested in other areas of her life. In fact, most areas of her life, other than her work. But I’ve seen a change in her since she’s been hanging out with you. A return to her former sparkle, if ever so slightly. It has given me hope. And I know she’s been hanging out with you more often than she was willing to divulge to me.” She smiled at Dorn again, reassuringly. “The change is encouraging.”
“Well, I’m glad that you approve of my influence. As I said, I enjoy her company.”
“And she enjoys yours as well, even if it’s difficult for her to show it. I’m hoping, however, that you will remember the fact that Rory is not yet fully recovered, and try not to give her excuse to further insulate herself against life.”
Jackson listened to Nicole and was happy that Rory had such a friend. He didn’t take offense to what she was telling him. He knew his reputation, and it was deserved. In ten years, he hadn’t had romantic connections; he had only sexual ones. He knew some of his partners had been vocal about the games they played in bed. More people than he cared to admit knew of his sexual exploits. And those exploits were not considered run of the mill by everyone.
He remained silent. As nice as she was, he was certain that Ms. Dailey was going to threaten his balls any minute. And he couldn’t blame her. He felt like a bastard, knowing full well what he intended to get from Rory in the House. Although that wasn’t all he wanted. More and more, that seemed to be at odds with what he wanted.
“So I am supportive of your friendship with Rory. I must warn you though that if you hurt her, I will hang your balls as a trophy from my rearview mirror.” She turned the smile back up a notch.
Jackson laughed loudly and nodded. “I’ll certainly keep that in mind.” He continued to laugh.
“What will you keep in mind?” He turned as Rory made her way into the office. He stood and met her halfway through the room, taking her elbow and planting a soft kiss on her cheek. He was amazed at how his body jumped to attention, a tingle running through him the moment he heard her voice.
“Nicole here was just giving me tips on impressively equipped automobiles. How was your day?”
“Fine thank you, I’m rather glad it’s coming to an end. Are you ready to go?” She seemed tired and irritated. Even so, she was still so damn beautiful.
“Ready when you are.”
Rory quickly scooted into the backseat and without thinking, immediately began arranging her bags in between herself and Jackson. She was tired, and still very put out after her lunch with Landon. She was also concerned that he was right about Jackson and she should be more cautious. She didn’t want to be cautious. She wanted to melt into him and make it all go away. How stupid.
“You’re really going to have to stop building these walls,” Jackson said, clucking his tongue as he moved her bags onto the floorboard. He slid over until they were side to side and she could feel his body heat. He draped his arm around her shoulders. He took her hand, halting it from rubbing her left wrist. He lifted it to his mouth and ran her knuckles over his lips. A shudder went through her body and she turned further into him. His eyes bored into hers and as he released her hand. She raked it through his dark hair. He evoked such longing in her. His hard, muscular body emitted a heat that set her blood boiling. After the long shitty day, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from being pulled to him.
She straddled Jackson’s lap. His eyes grew more heated and he moaned as her hands rubbed down his hard chest. Her skirt hiked up and as he reached over to hit the button that lifted the tinted privacy window, his other hand dropped to her silk-covered thigh. Rory’s breath caught in her throat as he smoothed his hands up her legs and grabbed her hips. He jerked her forward and took her mouth forcefully, pushing his tongue inside and tasting her willfully. She returned his kiss and was unashamed as she made grinding motions on his lap.
He grabbed her hand and brought it to his erection. She could feel his hard, fully engorged cock through his slacks. His breathing labored as his hand flattened against hers and guided her in moving up and down his length.
“This is what you do to me, Rory,” he breathed, peering into her eyes as he continued to move her hand up and down. “You make me so hard for you.”
She leaned forward and recaptured his mouth. As she continued to massage, he unbuttoned her blouse, sucking hard on the exposed flesh. A surprised gasp escaped her throat as he freed a nipple from its cover and sucked it into his mouth, his tongue laving it. Rory moaned and leaned into him, rubbing his cock harder.
She reached for his belt as a ding sounded. “Sir, we’re approaching the building.” Rory leaned back and Jackson released her, peering into her eyes.
“We’re not finished here,” he said as he leaned her back to button her blouse. They were both fighting to bring their breathing under control and as they looked at each other, a smile spread over Rory’s face. They both cracked up.
Two hours later Rory sat in Jackson’s BMW as they made their way to the airport. That familiar panic was rising inside her once again, telling her she needed to trust her instincts and stay away from him. After her careless behavior in the backseat of the livery car, she wondered how wise it was to keep his company. Not only did she fear how this would end up, but how smart was it to engage in that type of immature behavior with witnesses around? For Christ’s sake she was a United States Congresswoman.
She seemed to lose her self-control when she was around him, but it felt good. He made her hot; that’s all there was to it. He certainly was one of the best-looking men she’d ever seen. She looked over at him as he drove. He had the thickest hair, straight nose and full lips. But those eyes, those blue eyes could cause combustion from just a stare. He certainly was the pretty boy she had first pegged him as, more than pretty. With that hard muscled body, he was a total Hollywood movie star package. No wonder the media loved him.
But it wasn’t just his looks. Rory had been out with some hot men in her life. Aidan had been nice looking. Maybe that was it. Jackson Dorn seemed really beautiful on the inside too. Either that or he was just too good at the political act. She hoped that wasn’t the case because beautiful face and hard body aside, she liked spending time with him.
When the car had dropped them off at home, they had gone into her apartment where she finished organizing herself for her quick trip home. Jackson had ordered Chinese. They had eaten together and engaged in some normal conversation.
He had asked about her trip. She had run down the fundraisers and meetings she would attend, and the visit to her cousin Devon and her kids, if only for a short time. Jackson asked about all of the events and about her family. He was amazed that even Devon’s parents had died, so it was just the two of them and Devon’s three kids.
Rory was used to this re
action, always being around much larger families in the Irish community. Much different from Jackson’s family of course, as he had explained that he had three brothers and a sister, and each of them was married and had multiple children. Good Irish people. He had mentioned to Rory how unusual it was that an Irish family like hers would have only one child. Rory explained that her parents would have liked more children, but her mother’s lifelong battle against cancer had begun when Rory was only a toddler and left her unable to have more.
Jackson had taken that opportunity to tell her about his mother’s battle with multiple sclerosis, and how he was no stranger to dealing with a parent’s illness. Another thing they had in common. Rory listened sympathetically as he described the advancement of his mother’s MS through the years, and how she didn’t seem to be doing very well currently. She could tell he was worried about her as he expressed his regret at not being able to make it back to Maine for another several weeks to check in.
As they approached the airport, Jackson pulled into the short-term parking instead of dropping her at the departures terminal. As he switched off the ignition, Rory grabbed her purse and unclicked her seatbelt.
“Wait,” Jackson said as she moved to open her door. His gaze was boiling and probing all at once. He reached out and grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips before pulling her in and gently kissing her. He released her hand and cupped her cheeks. The leather of the car seats creaked as they both leaned in. Jackson’s tongue brushed hers as a soft moan rose from his throat. Rory felt that moan vibrate between her thighs.
His hand slid down and held her around the throat, his thumb massaging the delicate curve of her neck. It was softly possessive and aggressive.
“I wish you didn’t have to go. I want you to stay with me.”
“I’ll be back on Sunday. I’ll see you then.” Her voice was husky.
He stared into her eyes. He reached out and swiftly claimed her lips, harder this time, as if he wanted to imprint the feel of the kiss onto both their brains. When it ended he leaned forward and hugged her hard, holding her close.
He whispered in her ear. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had such a strong reaction to a woman. I don’t know what to do with this.”
Her hand went up the back of his neck and into his thick hair. She felt equally captivated, but as usual, the vulnerable feeling left her overwhelmed and looking to escape. Good thing she was getting on a plane in thirty minutes. She needed to spend some time thinking about this situation, as it was beginning to seem more involved than mere distraction. How had that happened so quickly?
She leaned back, subtly putting some space between them. She embraced humor to cut through the heat in the air.
“Playboy Dorn?” She smiled into his eyes and pecked a kiss onto his lips before she pushed away and righted herself in her seat. She gathered her purse and satchel. “Better figure it out before I get back on Sunday.”
He smiled and blew out a long breath. “I’ll see what I can do about that. I’ll get your door.” Looking resigned, he exited the vehicle and walked around to open her door. “Let’s get you to your plane, Congresswoman.”
Chapter Eight
The following afternoon Jackson escorted his most recent appointment to the door and said his goodbyes. He turned and rolled his eyes at his assistant.
“Don’t ever let those people around me again. Crazy green motherfuckers.” As he headed back toward the hallway, she slapped the daily mail into his hands. “There are some invitations and stuff for you to go through and here’s a package that was hand delivered.”
Jackson eyeballed the package. “I’ll be in my office, Caroline. No calls or visitors.”
He shut and locked the door. After pulling the tab on the secure package, he emptied the contents onto his conference table and sat down in one of the leather seats. There were several thick manila file folders with metal clasps. They were all marked “CLASSIFIED” in large black lettering across the FBI seal on the front. Jackson didn’t hesitate to identify the first of the four files.
He heard a ping on his iPhone and fished it out of his pocket. It was a text from Agent Durand. Trust package received. Expect gratitude forthcoming. He didn’t respond but instead opened the first of the fat files. He was anxious to see what was in this report, hyper-alert and a little nervous to actually read about the horrible details of what had happened to Rory.
Two hours later, he sat perfectly still. His arms were crossed over his chest, the index finger of his right hand rested on his lips as he stared at the same spot on the white wall. He had been sitting in this exact position for quite a while. His stomach was roiling. The nausea had set in when he was about halfway through the information. But he sat still, unable to move as he absorbed the information he had read, the pictures he had seen.
She had been raped and tortured by her own husband. And that was probably not the worst of it. The bastard had made her watch as he had murdered her father in front of her. And he wasn’t sure that had been the worst of it either. Actually, it was pretty hard to choose from the events depicted in these files what would be the worst to live through. It was extraordinarily gruesome. He had rarely heard of, much less seen, such pictures. And that was saying something because his career with the FBI had been mostly spent with Special Crimes, so it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen his share of the horror that humans could inflict. This guy made some of the serial killings he’d investigated look like preschool.
His mind went back over the pictures in the files and he immediately closed his eyes and ran his fingers over his forehead. There was so much blood all over the inside of that farmhouse. The guy had been talented with a knife. He punished and tormented her and it seemed she fought through the entire ordeal. He wanted to vomit just thinking about it. The torture that man had inflicted on his own wife, on Rory.
And she had been pregnant. And the bastard had ended that in the worst kind of way. He didn’t know how she had lived through it physically. Mentally he couldn’t imagine that kind of hell.
Not many people had any idea of what she had gone through in that farmhouse in Ohio. Or had any idea how strong she must truly be to live through something like this and remain sane, much less be the beautiful, effective woman she was.
He had to stop thinking about it for a while. He needed to get those images out of his head and focus on something else. Otherwise he was going to lose it. This was bad, so much worse than he even imagined. No wonder she had those panic attacks every other morning. He stood and began to repack the files neatly into the mailer box they had arrived in. He grabbed his leather briefcase and placed the box inside, zipping it firmly closed. He wished he could cover the images in his head so easily. Actually, he wished she weren’t in Ohio right now. He would like to be able to look at her and touch her, if only to replace those violent images and photos of her terrified expression and battered, bloody body with the warm vibrant woman he knew her to be.
Chapter Nine
By Saturday evening, Rory was exhausted. Her Campaign Chief Sabrina, on orders from Nicole, had run her through two charity events on Friday night and a luncheon with the League of Women Voters earlier in the day. This was after she had spent the morning at Cleveland City Hall arguing with current Mayor Bruce Garrison over union issues. She shook her head as she wondered again why that entitled bastard thought it was a good idea to give the unions trouble while they were building the shipyards the Trojan deal was dependent upon. The meeting had become heated and she had played hardball, reminding the mayor what they stood to lose if strikes happened.
She was ready to spend some down time with her cousin and the kids. As Rory stood in her living room, staring out at the dark waves rolling in on the lake, she thought of Jackson. She remembered his kiss in the car before she got on the plane, and his admission that he wanted her to stay with him. She touched her lips and remembered his hands on her body. She closed her eyes and leaned into the window. He certainly made her want.
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br /> She turned as she heard the front door open and headed down the front hall. “Anybody home?” she heard Devon call out.
“How’s it going?” Rory asked as she hugged Devon and hung her coat in the closet. Rory’s home was a typical lake house. Although they were all different, built in different eras and of different styles and materials, they were all structured with the living and entertainment areas at the rear of the house to take advantage of the lake views. Rory’s home was not the largest on Lake Road. There were two bedrooms on either side of the front hall, each with a bathroom. The open kitchen was in the middle of the house with a large wraparound great room. The best feature was the rear wall of the house that was constructed entirely of windows so that the lake would always be the focal point. The upper level was an open master suite and had the same rear wall of windows.
“I brought wine.” Devon held up a bottle as they walked to the kitchen.
“Where are the kids? I thought I’d get to spend some time with them.”
“This is their dad’s weekend. Besides, I thought it would be nice for us to spend some grown-up time.”
“Of course.” Rory squeezed her shoulders again. “But next time I’m here I demand to see my little cousins. They’re not going to be this little and cute forever.”
“I’m not so sure they are now.” They settled at the kitchen bar and Rory gathered a bottle opener and glasses. “So how are things going in the big leagues?”
“Okay. A lot of work, just like always. A lot of meetings and maneuvering to make things happen.” She smiled as she poured the wine.
They fell into a pleasant conversation. The two women had always been there for each other. Their fathers were brothers, and Devon reminded Rory very much of her own father. She saw his steadfast, commonsense personality in Devon. She was like a rock for Rory, and she’d always been able to talk to Devon. After the shit had gone down with Aidan, Devon was the one, with Landon’s help, to deal with all the funeral arrangements. She had also been the one to liquidate the family farm once the authorities had released it. During all of that, Devon was at Rory’s side and aided in her recovery.