by Jo Leigh
“Basically, I worked for him just to piss my father off, but I fell in love. Not with Bill, but with the process. I summered in D.C. and that was it, I was hooked. It was the most exciting place I’d ever been. The power was so great, the machinations so Machiavellian, who could resist?”
“Why didn’t you go into politics?” she asked.
He looked at her, surprised. “Be a politician? God, no. I never had any desire to run for office. I wanted to be the voice of honesty, a standard bearer for the people. Jeez, was I full of crap.”
“What do you mean? Your column is exactly that. I think what you do is tremendously important.”
“I’m a glorified gossip columnist,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “There’s nothing important about that.”
She pulled him up short, and when he wouldn’t face her, she walked around until she faced him. “Are you joking?”
“No. I’m desperately serious,” he said.
“I’m confused. I read your column. Thousands of people read your column. Maybe hundreds of thousands, now that you’re online. And you don’t believe you have influence?”
“Oh, I have influence all right, but not the kind you mean. You think we can talk about something else?” he asked.
“No, we cannot. I want you to explain this.”
“What about that no talking about work rule? Huh? That was your idea and it was very, very wise.”
“I don’t care. I need to understand,” she insisted.
He thought about kissing her, but that wasn’t fair. Then he thought about running, but that would reveal far more than he wanted her to know. Instead, he looked her straight in the eye. “Let me explain how my job works. People tell me secrets. Some are big and some are small, but they’re like currency changing hands. Each secret begets power. It’s easy to stockpile secrets, to use them, manipulate them. When you know people’s secrets, they scurry like rats to find bigger secrets, more to trade.
“Most of them never hit the column. Sometimes they’re hinted at, but never truly spilled, not if the secret is to remain currency. Once it’s out in the open, the power disappears from the equation, and you’re left with nothing to barter.”
“So you’re saying you hold all these Washington secrets, right?” she said.
“Not anymore,” he stated.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s a really long story. So I’ll once again give you the Reader’s Digest version. Before I left, I wrote three columns, the first one to run this morning. And in them, I cashed in. Spent all my secrets.”
“I don’t understand.”
He wiped a hand over his face, knowing he had to tell her, but speaking the words aloud was making the whole thing awfully real. “For a long time now, what I knew was making me uncomfortable. I would look at my files and think about all I’d learned, all the crap I’d been told, bits at a time. And I was playing that crap as if I was playing chess. It was a big old game, and the American people weren’t even on the board. The only players were the ones with the secrets. I didn’t want to play anymore. So I told them. Everything I could, at least. I made sure I didn’t reveal anyone’s name I shouldn’t. I didn’t breach national security. But I’ve thrown a hell of a big stone into the pond, and the ripples are going to get everyone wet.”
She stared at him in surprise. “I get the concept, but can you be a little more specific?”
“Okay. There’s a congressional aide I know, name of Tracy Nolan. We had lunch about a month ago, and she let it slip that Congressman Kincaid has been spending several nights a week with an eighteen-year-old intern. Kincaid won in his district with lots of speeches proclaiming he would bring a new level of ethics to Washington, and was a strong proponent of banning gay marriage. Oh, did I mention the intern was male? And that Kincaid is married?
“When I spoke to Kincaid, he told me about Congressman Trask, who is also a member of the ethics committee. Trask, it turns out, has taken hundreds of thousands of dollars in contributions from a company that owns hundreds of Internet pornography sites. I cornered Trask, and he suggested my time might be better spent investigating another congressman who sits on a Pentagon procurement committee despite the fact that nearly five million dollars worth of stock in an armament company his committee recommended is in his wife’s name.”
Alex sighed. “What did I report on? The armament story. What should I have written about? All of it. Every last word of every last travesty. But I didn’t. Until now.”
“Are you going to be fired?”
“Not fired. Questioned, for sure. Retired, definitely. My usefulness to the paper is over…”
“But your editor. He had to have approved this, right?”
“He had no choice. We both know that without sources, there’s no column.”
“Well, damn,” she said.
“That about sums it up,” he agreed.
She nibbled her lower lip for a moment. “What happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“Something must have happened. You said your passion was politics. That you’d never been anywhere more exciting.”
He smiled. “You.”
She continued to stare, her big round eyes seeing something she hadn’t been prepared for. That wasn’t a guess, either. Disillusionment was his area of expertise. He could spot it a mile away.
“I know, it doesn’t make a lot of sense on the surface, but when we talked, it was as if I’d found a part of me that I’d thought I’d lost. It made me think. About who I’d become, and what I was doing with my life. I didn’t like what I saw. So, I decided to do something about it,” he said.
“How did I not know this?” she asked.
“Well, that’s the only part I’m sorry about. And one of the reasons we’re here. So I could tell you.”
“But you said this change has been coming for a long time.”
Alex nodded. “It has. For almost a year.”
“Wow. I’m not sure how to feel about this. I mean, I believe what you did was a good thing, but where does it leave you?”
“Not where I was. I’ve been kicking a few ideas around about what I’m going to do. I haven’t firmed up any decisions yet. But leaving D.C. is high on the list. A book, maybe. I don’t know,” he said.
“But…” She stared at him for a long time, her gaze intent and piercing. He let her look. Opened up as much as he knew how. It wasn’t comfortable, but this was Meg, and she needed to understand.
“Okay,” she said, finally.
“Okay?”
“I get it, although I’m still not sure how I fit into it all. Bottom line, I believe in you,” she declared.
“You do?”
She nodded with such seriousness it made his throat clench.
“Telling the truth matters. Being who you’re meant to be matters. I’m proud of you, Alex.”
“Oh, God. Why did we wait so long to meet?” he said.
“Because we’re both socially retarded.”
He couldn’t hold back another second. He had to kiss her. Moral imperative. So he did.
She kissed him back with such tenderness he wanted to carry her straight back to the bungalow, and never let her go.
He hugged her so tight she gasped. He relaxed his grip and pulled back from her lips. “We’re in the most beautiful place I know of, with perfect weather, perfect views from everywhere, and we’re going to find out all kinds of wicked things about each other. It doesn’t get better than this.”
She smiled at that.
“Am I right?” he asked.
“Yes. But—”
He put two fingers over her lips. “No buts. So no more talk of work, and this time, we stick to the deal.”
“You’re quite manipulative, did you know that?” she said.
“Yes, I did,” he stated.
She frowned.
Damn, but she was stunning. “On the plus side, I’m very good at many naughty things,” he teased.
&nbs
p; She burst out laughing, cutting the tension, which had grown too thick.
“What in hell does that have to do with anything?”
He took her hand in his and tugged her along. “You’ll see, my dear. You’ll see.”
8
THE FIRST THING THEY FOUND out when they got to the activities desk was that there was an opening for a couple’s massage at the spa, but they had to hurry.
They crossed the lawn quickly, and went into the magnificent reception area. Someone different was behind the marble desk, but he smiled and welcomed them with the trademark grace of Escapades. After they filled out some very brief forms, mostly asking about trouble areas and allergies, he led them to separate locker rooms.
In his, Alex expected to smell the universal odor of locker room chlorine. Instead, it was something sweet and flowery, not in the least overdone. The towels were white and fluffy, and the sheet he was told to wrap around himself once he was naked felt great. He was also given a pair of slippers. New. Soft. Blue. They’d thought of everything.
Stripping off his pants, he realized there might be a downside to the couple’s massage and it was sticking out from his groin at the three-quarter position. One look at Meg in her sheet, and he was sure to be saluting at full attention.
If they wanted to rub his chest, there was definitely going to be some tent action going on. Maybe he could ask that the masseuses wear blindfolds? Damn, he should have made up something on that form about how he was phobic about being rubbed on his chest.
Of course, this being Escapades, and these being massages for couples, well, they’d probably run across this situation before, right? Lots of times. Probably every guy who’d ever been on the table had risen to the occasion.
So he wouldn’t be weird about it. They wouldn’t even notice. With all this health stuff, they probably just figured it was a normal, human reaction. No big deal.
He headed out, holding the sheet out from the front of his body.
Meg was already there, draped like him. She was far more covered than she’d been in either her dress or her bathing suit, but see, he knew she was naked under there. That another woman was going to be rubbing delicious body parts with oils. Oh, shit.
“Alex? Is something wrong?”
“Uh, we have a minute or two, right? A couple, maybe five minutes?”
“I’m sure we do.” She seemed confused. Which was better than her understanding his dilemma.
“Why don’t you get settled, and I’ll be back,” he said quickly.
“Okay.” She nodded, taking a step toward him.
He turned around, too fast, evidently, because his heel caught the sheet, and despite his hold, pulled it off. Almost off. His ass was bared, but the sheet caught in front. On his now fully saluting dick.
Life was just so goddamn amusing.
MEG’S DRINK WAS SITTING on a little white table and the view from the tent was spectacular. The spa itself was situated on a rise so there was nothing but a few palm trees between her and the ocean and the sky.
The massage tables were set up just far enough apart that the therapists could fit between them. She’d be completely aware of what was happening to Alex, and he’d hear every moan and whimper from her.
She chuckled again, feeling badly for him. When the sheet had dropped, she’d deduced his predicament. It made her very glad that she didn’t have a penis. Poor guy.
She’d also guessed his intention. For a moment, she’d thought about following him into the men’s locker room and helping him solve the problem, but if there were other men in there, they might not understand that her motivations were completely unselfish. Besides, she wasn’t even sure if Alex would be thrilled if she offered her services.
Anyway, she needed a few moments alone to digest what he had told her about his column.
Evidently, there’d been a lot more going on behind the scenes than she’d picked up on.
She just didn’t understand why he hadn’t said anything about this before. He’d told her so much about himself, and yet the really personal stuff, about his family, about his work struggles, he’d kept to himself.
Although, now that she thought about it, he’d given her hints. Just a couple of weeks ago, he’d talked to her about reinventing himself. It had been a fascinating conversation, but she’d thought he’d been encouraging her to leave the mountain. Frankly, it hadn’t occurred to her that he was the one seeking change. Which, she supposed, said more about her own problems than his. How many other talks had she misinterpreted? Was she the most selfish woman on earth, or what?
She picked up her Sex on the Beach and took a really big drink. The cold helped, but she thought the alcohol might help more. The longer she spent with Alex the more confused she grew. The only thing she was completely clear about was wanting him.
The swish of a curtain behind her made her turn, and there were the masseuses. One blonde, one dark, both wearing starched white uniforms and nurse’s shoes, each with towels draped over forearms.
“Hi,” the blonde said. “I’m Gwen and this is Neva.” She looked around. “Your partner isn’t coming?”
“He’ll be out in a minute. We’re both looking forward to this very much.”
The women went over to cabinets set up on either side of the tent to plug in hot pots, which meant there would be warm oils, a fact that made Meg very happy.
“Would you like to look through our CD collection? If you’d like music, of course.”
“Sure.” She went over to Neva, who handed her a large CD case. Meg flipped through slowly, wondering just how long Alex was going to be. Most of the music was either classical or New Age. But toward the end she found something that made her smile. It was jazz, and it was damn good jazz. Something she knew Alex was fond of. Lionel Hampton. “Black and Blue.” She pulled it out and gave it to Neva. Just then, Alex came back.
She had to look. The sheet fell in a nice, straight line down the front of his body. When she glanced up, he blushed. Poor baby. Gathering her own sheet, she put her drink down, went over and hugged him, hard.
“Uh, I appreciate the support, but this is a little counterproductive, if you know what I mean,” he said.
Holding back a laugh, she let him go. “Let’s do this, shall we?”
“We shall.”
She went to the table on the right, Gwen’s, and he went to Neva’s. Meg opened her sheet and lay facedown on the table. It occurred to her that she’d have to look up every so often to see the sunset, which was growing more beautiful by the second.
She heard Alex get on his table, and then the music started.
“Hey.”
She turned her head to face him. “Surprise.”
“Did you arrange this?”
“It would have been much cooler if I had, but no. It was among the CDs.”
“Excellent choice.”
She put her head down on the crescent headrest and sighed, letting her thoughts be carried away by the breeze. The music eased her passage into a state of near ecstasy, and with the first touch of Gwen’s hand, she whimpered, which was kind of odd since all Gwen did was put her hair into a towel.
When the actual massage began, Meg went into the zone. But it was a different zone than she’d ever experienced before. Because this time, Alex was there.
Her eyes were closed, her head was down, and yet all she truly wanted to do was think about the hours they’d spent together. She couldn’t recall a time that she’d enjoyed more. His humor was even better in person. Funny what you missed without the inflections, the facial expressions. He was incredibly adorable in every way that mattered.
It was hard not to think about leaving him, but when she did, she clamped down tight, refusing to entertain those pesky thoughts. She had him now. Had him right there, moaning next to her.
She grinned. Clearly, Alex was enjoying himself. So he was noisy. Well, that was good, because she was, too. It had gotten her into trouble, so she tried to contain herself, but dammit
, it was just one of those things.
Besides, if all went well, there was no way she was going to be quiet with him. God, how she wanted him. So much it was a physical ache, not something Gwen could rub out or soothe. Only one thing could ease her, and that was Alex.
It gave Meg an extra thrill to know that he’d had to take care of himself because of her. She actually felt proud. As if she’d done something extraordinary. Oh, tonight was going to be one for the books.
“A little tense here, yes?”
Gwen was working on her shoulders, and Meg figured she’d better stop thinking about Alex or this massage wasn’t going to have the desired effect. The more Gwen rubbed, the easier it was to sink into pure, unadulterated heaven.
IT HAD TAKEN ABOUT ten seconds and the merest touch to take care of his little problem. But it had taken him considerably longer to regain his air of cool machismo and walk out of the men’s room. He’d thought he’d gotten his act together pretty well until Meg, wrapped in her towel, her beautiful shoulders so tantalizing he wanted to lick them all over, had hugged him.
He’d accepted that he wasn’t a kid any longer, and he’d also accepted what that meant. Downtime wasn’t a luxury, it was a necessity. And yet her body pressed against his and bingo, a twitch and more.
So among the other things that Meg could do so effortlessly was turn back the clock. Who knew?
Maybe it was the anticipation. The idea that tonight he’d have her all to himself, to do many wicked and wonderful things. Knowing her secrets was more of an aphrodisiac than he’d have ever guessed. What he had to do now, however, was not think about them. Not even the one where she wanted to be tied up—
Miss Cardinal. Miss Cardinal.
Okay, that was better. It didn’t help that the masseuse was turning his muscles into passive, obedient noodles. He moaned. It was so damn good. She knew exactly where to put the pressure, and she took no prisoners. Yeah, it hurt, but it hurt just right.
She moved her strong hands down his back, working slowly, carefully and with such dedication he wanted to give her a medal. It was a gift, and if he could afford it, he’d fly to the island weekly, just for this.