Her First Knight - The Beginning: Storm Lake (Under-Cover Knights Book 2)

by Livia Quinn

  “Ahh.” She deflated against her chair. “You’re one from the bodice ripper camp, aren’t you? Listen, you need to change your opinion of the romance industry. I’ll have you know even the Washington Post includes romance novels on their best book page.” Buffy still came up against this mentality more often than she liked.

  Even though Romance sold more books than any other genre, there was still that stigma; some still referred to all romance novels as ‘bodice rippers’. Sure, there were still novels out there that wouldn’t stand up to someone’s judgment of what good writing was, but often it was just ignorance. There would always be bias between the genres. It was the nature of personal preference in any industry; she just wished romance got more of a fair shake.

  “Romance hasn’t just grown in sales but in its outreach because of its popularity and the premise of a happily ever after. And let me tell you, where I’m from, that’s real life. People need hope. They need to believe that things will work out, problems can be overcome. If a reader wants to read tragedy they don’t pick up a romance, although my photo stock has been purchased for lots of mediums and genres.”

  Ridge thought about Sally and her fundraising project. “I can see you’re passionate about your work. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

  Buffy sighed. “It’s not the first time I had to get on my soapbox, Ridge, and you didn’t offend me, I just think you’re selling the whole community short. There are a lot of veterans who read romance, who have family members who are in the service, who’ve lost loved ones, and some who write romance.

  “The military is well represented in the romance industry and most authors are diligent in their research and portrayals. They are great supporters of our troops. I’d be guessing at the percentage of books written about military or law-enforcement heroes and heroines, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s as high as seventy-five percent.”

  Ridge had to admit he hadn’t given it a lot of thought, which was ignorant on his part. “I’m really sorry, Buffy. I should’ve asked questions before I passed judgment. But, all that aside, the idea of ending up on one of those sexy covers, or dressed in a kilt—I can’t see it.”

  She was quiet and Ridge wondered if she was mad; she’d delivered a pretty good lecture. She reached for her drink and sipped. He took a second to admire her.

  He’d thought her the most exotic, sexy woman when he’d first seen her on the front of Vanity Fair, and that was saying something. Ridge’s taste ran to the Journal of Biomedical Science, ACSM…and reports from research labs around the country. He hadn’t been kidding her when he said his time was limited.

  He had to complete the transfer of Internal Security Systems and make sure the optioning of World Bionics went without a hitch. Right now there was no way he had time to even read a magazine or novel, much less… wait, he wasn’t considering her request was he? No, absolutely not. Where had that thought come from? Get back to admiring the stunning woman in front of him who, if anything, had become even more alluring.

  She still looked like she’d walked right off the cover of Vogue. The dress shimmered as if it were alive, the copper gold complementing her creamy skin and now he could see she’d used some kind of blue shadow on her eyes that made them look like shallow pools on a tropical beach, clear, deep. A heated sigh escaped him, “Is it hot in here?” he asked Buffy, who was still studying him.

  She set her drink on the table, leaned forward with her elegantly manicured fingertips on the table in front of him. Candlelight made a shadow of the slight cleavage exposed by the draped front of her dress. He swallowed.

  The woman was hot. And he’d thought it was him.

  “Let me ask you something. What would you do to get exposure for veterans issues?” she asked quietly.

  His sharp eyes burned into hers, “Practically anything. I didn’t start out as someone who found the whole social media thing natural, but I quickly learned the asset of a network of supporters. The more we can engage people in the conversation… if it gets them to spread the word, I’m for it.”

  Buffy paused while the waiter topped off their water and brought another round of tapas. When he left, she leaned forward, her eyes boring into his, her lovely face determined.

  “Pose for me,” she said.

  Chapter Nine

  “Pose—” Ridge’s adept mind ground to a halt.

  “Yes, let me photograph you. Tomorrow night. Come on, Ridge, just for fun. Your business will be concluded won’t it? And we can call for room service. No one has to know. I’ll work my magic and you can judge for yourself.”

  “I—” Ridge was at a loss. He’d been so opposed to what she’d proposed at first, why was he even giving it a second thought? Because you want to spend another evening with her, Idiot.

  “Don’t say—”

  “Okay.” He couldn’t believe it. His mouth had opened and blurted what had been in his subconscious.

  “Really?” Watching her eyes sparkle and that beautiful smile aimed at him made him want to get down on his knees and beg for a treat.

  He’d better watch it. She could turn him into her slave. His eyes narrowed, “What are you going to do with these pictures?”

  “I might want them for my personal collection,” she teased, and a stream of fire went straight to his groin. Now, that would be a kick.

  She clarified, “Nothing that you don’t agree to. We could take some for your marketing campaigns.”

  He had to give it to her; she could think on the fly and had made him give some consideration to a campaign for the upcoming vote.

  “You said you wouldn’t be adverse to an investor…”

  She shrugged one creamy shoulder. “I’m not sure yet whether I need one. I saved my earnings and invested very well while I was on top of my game.”

  He grinned, checked his phone when it dinged, frowned, and returned it to his pocket. “You make it sound like you’re old.”

  “Don’t laugh. Even though things have changed in some respects for older models, the buying power is still in the younger market and I’m on the outside margin of that market now. Even if I wasn’t, Ridge, this is what I’ve worked for, why I had to be away from my family, and it’s why I won’t locate anywhere but Larue. I’ll make it work, but I want it to be a success.”

  “Family is one of the most important reasons to do anything, Buffy. No one understands that like I do, believe me.”

  He popped the tapas in his mouth while Buffy considered his words. “But you think that the difference between paying the bills, having a steady slow start and opening with a bang is a ‘few good men’?” he asked smiling.

  “I’d settle for one perfect man.”

  “There are no perfect men,” Ridge said with an edge to his voice.

  “No, of course not. It’s the illusion that makes marketing work.”

  “This runs counter to what the guys I work with struggle with every day. Reality sometimes sucks.”

  Buffy’s gaze softened recognizing the private pain in Ridge’s comment. “It does. Which is my point. I think we’re just talking about the same thing but from different angles, let’s say different perspectives. What is wrong with encouraging people to hope for love, strive for it against all odds? Romance novels are full of stories about military families, of healing and hope in the midst of loss.”

  Her head dipped and she looked up at him through lowered eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m on the box again.”

  “No, I’m interested in your perspective. It seems as if I’ve been suffering from a case of romance bias.” He smiled. “I’ll try to do better.”

  He was being kind. She looked off, biting her lip.

  “What?” he asked, feeling like he could read her body language, he’d been studying it for so long.

  “I guess accompanying me to the cover model party tonight is out.”

  Ridge snorted. “That’s affirmative.”

  “You were in the military yourself weren’t you?”

  H
e felt the smile falter. His life had revolved around the military way before he was old enough to join. “Yes, I spent several years in Afghanistan. I left to run ISS and WBI in the states under a government contract, and for personal reasons. You might say, my focus shifted.”

  He tossed his napkin on the table. “I guess I’d better call it a night and get my beauty sleep.” He winked. “Me and the congresswoman have to go another round in the morning. I also have some homework to do, and a thousand messages on my phone.”

  “Here’s my room number,” Buffy said, writing it on the back of a card. “I’ll be there all afternoon, and I’ll have everything set up and ready to go.”

  He was rethinking his decision to pose for her when she said, “You wouldn’t want to be known as the only man who ever stood up Lana Maisel, would you?”

  Oh, that was a dirty trick. Smart, too. Ridge coughed. The lady knew men, knew how to use her fame and beauty to sway the opposite sex—him. He imagined she’d slayed a hundred in her short adult life. She’d certainly lived the lifestyle. He’d seen pictures of her on the Riviera, in so many exotic locations he couldn’t count them, and he’d wager neither could she. She didn’t seem like some celebrities though with high opinions of themselves, who’d lost their way and fell into bad habits or addictive behavior, so he figured this was an attempt to gain his agreement with humor.

  “All right, but let’s plan on talking about the funding you need for your business. I might be able to help.”

  Again she said, “Don’t stand me up, okay? Just think of it as a fun afternoon with a photographer chick, or even easier, spending the day with your girlfriend, and she wants to take a few pictures.”

  “I’ll be there.” Girlfriend? “I said I would, but I don’t know what time.”

  “Okay. I guess we better put you to bed so you can get that beauty sleep.”

  The lady knew how to stir his fantasies with talk of “putting him to bed”. The thought of her as his girlfriend sent a little zing through his chest. He liked her. She was beautiful and driven, and hot.

  She insisted on paying, returned them to the hotel and then when he got off the elevator, she turned toward him. His heart stopped like a teenager on prom night with his first real date.

  She placed her hands on his forearms, squeezed and said, “I enjoyed this evening, Ridge. Whether anything comes of our business arrangement or not, I’d like to see you again, get to know you, and know more about your work with veterans. I must tell you about my family. See you tomorrow.” She stretched up and kissed him lightly on the lips and then lowered to the floor.

  “Good night,” he said, exiting the elevator.

  “Slay the witch,” she said.

  He smiled and nodded as the doors closed.

  Chapter Ten

  Buffy opened the door of her hotel room and picked up the complementary copy of the Washington Post. She carried it into the sitting area and opened her drapes to the view of the downtown area, the mall, and the monument. It was a pretty day, a great one for sightseeing she thought as she remembered her three new friends.

  Sipping a glass of bottled water she pulled the front page from the paper skimming over the local politics, the debate about the Redskins name, their non-season, and their owner, and then a headline caught her eye.

  Congresswoman Vork accuses “boy genius” of having a personal agenda in funding for vets.

  In a startling turn of events, Congresswoman Erica Vork accused Ridge Romano of using his brother’s death for monetary gain, taking issue with his statistics and the motives behind his support for new guidelines for PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) and TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury).

  Vork’s office blasted Romano for his exploitation of veterans and his companies’ excessive profits since he left active service.

  This comes just as Congress prepares to vote on a new plan to move some care for veterans to a private company, a consortium under examination by the committee. H.R. 6159, a co-effort between the consortium and the VA, was Romano’s brainchild.

  Several staunch supporters voiced their outrage over Vork’s attack. Romano, a key player in the research and development of prosthetic limbs with his company MedBionics, initially started out developing classified robotics for the Army for warfare. The hearings conclude Saturday and are expected to get even more contentious.

  Sources say the Army recruited Romano for his work in bionics as a youngster even before he received his doctorate from MIT at an early age, but went active when he got his first contract with the government at 18, with the company that later became World Bionics Incorporated. A defender of Romano on the other side of the aisle who wished to remain anonymous credits Mr. Romano’s dedication to veterans to the loss of his brother four years ago.

  Romano could not be reached for comment.

  He couldn’t be reached for comment because he’d been with her and had persistently ignored the ding of his phone. Buffy sipped her water and thought about the evening with Ridge. He’d mentioned the meeting at the Pentagon, but he’d totally underplayed the problems he’d had during the hearings.

  He was a busy man, and even more brilliant than she’d guessed. A doctor, who must have graduated high school when he was ten. He was out of her league.

  What would a man like him—someone with more lofty goals, higher aims than her own, for sure, and not for himself but for others—see in a relationship with a Louisiana girl with more or less superficial dreams? She didn’t believe for a moment he would use the men and women he was fighting for as a stepping-stone to increase his own wealth.

  Buffy opened her laptop and Googled Erica Vork noting her unpopular opposition to expanding Veterans Administration funding. Vork contended that the U.S. was in a non-war period in history. She had resisted the investigations into complaints against the VA, saying veterans should find work and once they did, they should come off the rolls of the US government. That was really popular.

  She didn’t vote for anything to do with the military—the defense budget, sanctions—what did she want to do, stick her head in the sand? She didn’t seem to be on any side but her own.

  Ridge on the other hand was a one-man force. In one article, his mother said as a toddler, “He was rebuilding his tricycles at four. When he was seven years old, he gave me a vacuum robot for my birthday which he built from toys and a remote.” His father said, “I don’t know where he got it from. I was a decent mechanic, but I struggled in school. He’s a special boy. And his brother’s racing up the ranks in the Army Rangers. Must be Margie’s genes.”

  The couple had posed with the two boys after the “transformer” incident in the ravine. Ridge’s older brother John was grinning beside Ridge but had slipped two fingers behind them and just as the image captured the happy boys and relieved parents, John had put up two fingers behind Ridge’s head—devil horns. John had been the oldest.

  Buffy tried to find details about John’s death but all she found was his obituary, the day he died, four years ago which seemed to match up with Ridge’s increased visibility in veterans issues.

  She prayed he would be successful. He was a good man. She wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t understand what was happening with that little gut curl. She smiled when she pictured his handsome dark shadowed face. Even tired and disgruntled he’d been kind and attentive, and so damn hot.

  She found no mention of a woman in his life and it did seem the little episode on Wednesday was completely out of character for him. But it made sense. He’d been focused on learning, expanding his intelligence and curiosity and turning those traits into products that made a difference. He was a hero’s hero. If she wasn’t careful, she’d scare him off. And fall in love.

  Buffy knew “Lana” could be intimidating. She was so glad the kissing up, fraternizing, politicking and the competitive nature of her life that had been fashion modeling was over. Not that marketing and studio production weren’t competitive. The difference was she was not in her current b
usiness to be adored, admired simply for her beauty or the way she looked on the beach in not much more than a layer of sand. Like the old ads said, “Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.”

  She imagined Ridge dealt with the same attitudes about his superior intelligence. Sometimes you just wanted to be like everyone else.

  Buffy spent the afternoon setting up equipment and preparing a couple sets for Ridge. She’d had to run down a set designer she knew to loan her some props and costumes. She changed into a yoga outfit for comfort and placed an order for some finger food, fruit and assorted goodies. He didn’t look like he was into sweets but who knew? She wasn’t denying herself any longer so if he wasn’t interested in the chocolate covered strawberries, she was sure she could handle it.

  Ridge knocked on the door to her suite around six. He looked good enough to eat in the dark blue suit, subtly patterned white shirt, and tie. She moved away so she didn’t seem too eager. She wanted to lock her arms around his neck and drag him to the couch. It was going to be tough to keep her hands off him.

  “How did things go today?” she asked. “Any better?”

  “I got my point across about the statistics on PTSD. I arranged for two respected experts, one from NIH and a records supervisor from within the agency with figures at her fingertips going back to the Civil War on loss of limbs, mental disorders and suicide. I won this round, but if you could have seen that woman’s eyes—I’m not sure why she’s taken such a dislike to me. It seems personal, but she may just be a self-aggrandizing attention seeker.”

  “I Googled her a little today.” At his look, she shrugged. “I didn’t mean to poke, but when I saw that article I was curious about her. Like you say, she’s antagonistic toward any defense or military oriented funding—whenever it arises, she votes NO. No on war, No on sanctions, No on increases in defense spending, No on the VA investigations, No on increase in VA funding, and in one article she actually said, ‘the statistics on PTSD are as blown up as those on global warming’. You’ve got a bear there. I can’t understand how she ended up on that committee.”