by Taylor Lee
~~~
Minutes into the lunch conversation, as much as she hated to admit it, Nicki was grateful that Caleb was with her. She needed to put a buffer between herself and the Congressman’s wife. Caleb gave her a fighting chance to get the information she needed. Without Caleb, it was questionable whether she could have pierced the self-possessed woman’s hard shell.
Three minutes after they introduced themselves, Nicki knew that Mrs. Freeman had as much of agenda as she did. Cherise Freeman knew more about her husband’s philandering than any woman should know—and not kick his ass to the door. And being willing to help Nicki bring down the Congressman? Fat chance. What was more likely was that Mrs. Freeman would do anything in her power to keep anyone—including Nicki—from upsetting the callous bargain the two ruthless people had cut.
If ever there was a political wife, Cherise Freeman exemplified it. Beautiful in a cold, contained way, her refined appearance screamed old money. Her platinum blonde hair was cut in a sophisticated chin length bob. Not a hair was out of place in the lacquered helmet. It made the vixen in Nicki want to reach out and muss it. But everything about Cherise indicated that she wasn’t the kind of woman who got mussed, ever. Like her husband, Mrs. Freeman’s smile never made it past her thin lips. Her ice blue gaze was implacable.
Because Nicki had an indulgent father, and was an avowed clothes horse, she recognized the creator of the expensive designer suit covering Cherise’s rail-thin body. No cleavage, no hint of softness marred her frosty appearance. The jewelry she wore was the only thing about Cherise that was excessive. To Nicki’s knowledgeable eye, she estimated the baubles Mrs. Freeman chose to wear to lunch cost in the high five figures.
While Nicki quickly came to a decidedly negative conclusion about her luncheon companion, the Congressman’s wife returned the favor in spades. Raking her eyes over Nicki’s voluptuous body, Cherise pursed her lips as though she’d spent the morning sucking lemons. As her gazed travelled from Nicki’s sensational hair to her equally expensive clothes, the woman’s disdain bordered on contempt. If Nicki had concluded that Mrs. Freeman was a cold, calculating bitch, Cherise had clearly decided that Nicki was a high priced slut out to shag her husband.
Caleb’s intentionally garrulous chatter seemed to charm Cherise—at least as much as she could be charmed. But after their food was served and Cherise had nibbled on two arugula leaves making Nicki feel like a glutton for eating a whole piece of bread dabbed with butter, Cherise dropped the mask. Folding her napkin in a neat square and placing it on the table, she turned a stink eye on Nicki. Her modulated voice dripping with distaste, Cherise didn’t try to hide the stony wrath behind her words.
“I hope you are wise enough to know that my husband is a pig. At least when it comes to the women he fucks.”
Nicki swallowed hard, choking back a laugh at Caleb’s shocked gasp. Maintaining as much dignity as she could muster, she asked, “Are you referring to your husband or the women?”
Cherise sniffed.
“Both.”
Nicki sucked in a deep breath of air and slowly released it. She cautioned herself. She needed all of her wits to spar with this woman. While their confrontation would not be physical, it would be as fierce as any battle she’d fought. It was clear that Cherise eviscerated her opponents with her contempt and self-righteous elitism. Nicki was glad that her father taught her early on, that if she was going to fight in a man’s world, she’d better learn the power of ruthlessness. Nicki conceded she may have met her match. Cherise was as merciless as she was.
Sweeping aside any pretense of good manners, Nicki threw down the gauntlet.
“Even though you are completely wrong about my intentions regarding your husband, may I conclude that you do not care that he is an avowed philanderer?”
Cherise carefully placed her fork across her uneaten salad and pinned Nicki with a cold stare.
“Not in the least. As long as the slut knows her place.”
Nicki arched a caustic brow.
“Which is?”
“To satisfy his carnal, animal needs.” Cherise didn’t hide her distaste. “Why would I begrudge him that? Men need to relieve themselves. Better it be with something or someone who isn’t there in the morning. Someone who can be easily disposed of. I buy off any woman foolish enough to think she could capture Stephen’s interest for more than an evening. Money always works—even for those women who are as attractive as you, my dear.” Her insinuating sneer confirmed that she considered Nicki one of ‘those’ women.
Neither Nicki nor Caleb chose to respond. As if to chase away any lingering doubts that she might be something other than a ruthless woman, Cherise smashed that thought. Her pleasant smile made her words uglier.
“You see, my dear, Stephen and I have a mutually beneficial agreement. We both have the same goal. Stephen intends to be the next President of the United States. I intend to be The First Lady. Neither one of us will let anything nor anyone stand in our way. And now it appears that you and your consorts share the same goal. I pay off the women who are foolish enough to think Stephen is interested in more than a night’s entertainment. Then Stephen and I pay off you and those charming men you associate with. With your help, we remove the only other potential impediment in our way: Senator Donald Michaels.”
~~~
“Wow.”
Caleb prefaced his exclamation with a low whistle.
Nicki nodded. “Wow is right.”
Watching Cherise walk toward the exit, her head in the air, like the wicked queen that she was, Nicki tried to sort through her mishmash of emotions. One thing was crystal clear: Cherise Freeman was a formidable opponent. Nicki wondered if Senator Michaels knew what he was up against.
An involuntary shiver shook her. Grabbing hold of Caleb’s arm, Nicki clung to him. She needed the warmth of a normal human being. Caleb put his arm around her and held her tight against his chest acknowledging her need and his.
After several moments, Nicki freed herself. Pressing her lips together, she squared her shoulders.
“Do you know what I want, Caleb?”
Caleb’s hooded eyes and troubled sigh confirmed he was as rattled by their luncheon companion as she was.
“After that ice bath in corrosive acid, I can’t imagine, hotstuff.”
“I want a quarter pound hamburger and a double order of French fries with gobs of ketchup.”
Caleb stepped back and frowned at her.
“But you don’t eat meat, Nicki.”
“After that lunch, I do.”
She grimaced. “And I want it rare, bloody.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his Caleb’s mouth. “I see. All righty then. How about Mickey D’s? Is that fleshy, bloody enough?”
Nicki sighed shoving down any second thoughts.
“It’ll do.”
Chapter 6
“Hang on, hotstuff. He’s gonna have to work his way through the crowd. When all these vultures see the two of you together, we’re gonna need every man we’ve got to hold them back.”
Nicki nodded and clung to Caleb’s arm for support. She saw Grayson first. The tall man was the epitome of a distinguished gentleman. Slightly graying at the temples, he exuded a calm vibe that was both comforting and erroneous. Only his eyes darting from side to side and the slight bulge at his hip hinted at his profession. Tonight Nicki knew Gray was in pure bodyguard mode—along with the other members of their team. Caleb had told her that the word was out that an important ‘someone’ wasn’t happy with Rafe. That wasn’t unusual. Rafe had innumerable enemies. They all did. It was part of the landscape. But tonight they wanted the focus on Senator Michaels; and, Nicki admitted, on their client and his wife.
Her heart pounded a staccato beat against her chest when she felt Rafe’s presence. It wasn’t surprising. She knew there wasn’t a woman in the room that wasn’t ogling him. In the midst of powerful, wealthy tuxedoed men, Rafe’s formal attire looked casual but astonishingly appropriate.
Especially if you were an aficionado of a GQ-styled man. He was tall, lean and strikingly handsome. His custom designed suit emphasized the lithe muscular strength of his body. His silk shirt, open at the neck, made the bow ties and cummerbunds the other men wore look stuffy and old-fashioned. Rafe would have stolen the show at a Hollywood premier. In this rule-bound conservative crowd he captured it. When he saw her, his stormy sea green eyes flashed and a slight smile tugged at his lips. As though the electricity between them were palpable, the crowd separated, opening a path when he moved toward her.
Nicki had spent most of her day gathering the final evidence they needed to screw Senator Michaels’ ass to the wall. As Rafe had anticipated, when the Senator knew that ISA was on his tail he and his staff went into massive cover-up mode. And started making mistakes. Grayson and the team of technical geniuses who worked at Rafe’s state of the art headquarters followed the breadcrumbs Nicki gave them. To everyone’s amazement, they’d found irrefutable evidence that Senator Michaels had accepted a six and a half million dollar bribe from an international arms dealer. That the dealer was an Iranian ‘businessman’ sealed Michaels’ fate. The Senator was looking at a massive fine and certain prison time.
But as much time as she had spent going after Michaels, Nicki had focused more energy on Freeman. She was convinced that neither Michaels nor Freeman deserved to be president. If it were up to her, neither would be. Freeman’s philandering was common knowledge in the halls of power. As disgusting as it was, the Congressman was correct when he said adultery was no longer an impediment to high office. But ten days ago, Nicki got hints of a truly explosive scandal involving the Congressman. If it went public, it would end his career. The problem was, Nicki didn’t have proof. She’d gone to Cherise Freeman in hopes of getting that proof. Before she met her, Nicki had assumed that Cherise was an innocent party—just one more political Washington wife who’d sold her dignity in exchange for the opportunity to bask in the shadow of her husband’s power. Her meeting with Cherise shot that theory to hell. Cherise was nobody’s victim; she was a vicious instigator and collaborator.
Freeman was known in Washington parlance as a limousine liberal. Shorthand for wealthy men who championed the rights of the poor while living an extravagant lifestyle that was fueled by the money made by their long dead ancestors—or more often their wive’s ancestors. Ah, yes. Family fortunes. What earned them the derisive moniker was their hypocrisy, not an uncommon attribute in D.C. What rankled their cronies more was the wealthy liberals using family money to buy their seats in Congress. All relatively legally, of course. Freeman upped the ante, and went one better. Now he intended to buy his way to the presidency.
A hallmark of the politically correct Congress was its emphasis on multiculturalism. While men still ruled, at least for the cameras, women, blacks and other minorities were in full view. Given the importance of appearances in Washington, even avowed racists had added color to their staffs. But Freeman’s staff was remarkably white. The absence of anyone but white men on Freeman’s core staff intrigued Nicki. It also closed down potential witnesses, as women and minority groups had their own grapevines. For good reason they had each other’s backs. Nicki had excellent access to that underground network. Lacking her usual sources, combined with the significance of the scandal, had the signals on the back of Nicki’s neck screaming for attention.
But all of her research and begging potential witnesses for evidence was for naught. No one with irrefutable proof had come forward. But today the gods were with her. Today they did.
One of Freeman’s regular prostitutes had tipped Nicki off to the bigger scandal. At first, Fantasia refused to do more than hint at the wrongdoing. But Nicki was persuasive, as was a significant amount of money. When Fantasia finally broke her silence Nicki knew this was a scandal that the American public wouldn’t ignore—and the Freemans couldn’t survive. Now that she knew that Cherise was integrally involved, Nicki planned to confront Freeman and his wife with the proof and give him the opportunity to withdraw from political life.
Rafe saw her across the room and started toward her. She was a vision. Her flaming red hair was piled up on her head anchored by sparking diamond studded pins. Alluring tendrils broke free surrounding her face and neck with vibrant curls. Rafe loved removing the pins one by one, allowing the fragrant mass to fall free in a glorious curtain around her shoulders and back. Even from across the room her striking cat-like eyes gleamed. When she spotted him, her cheeks flushed an enticing rosy peek. She gnawed on her full bottom lip, sending a double spike of energy to his cock. It didn’t matter what Nicki wore. Her stunning body was a designer’s dream. But unlike the usual rail-thin runway model, Nicki’s body could have outshone any Playboy cover model. She was wearing a body-hugging black sheath that clung to every delicious curve of her body. The fact that it ended just six inches below her curvy ass didn’t hurt. Neither did her four-inch Jimmy Choo strappy sandals that made her already sensational legs drool-worthy.
Rafe’s simmering anger dissipated at the sight of her. How could he be angry with the woman who’d changed his life, almost obliterating the emotional scars of his ugly past. Seeing the uncertainly cross her face, Rafe quickened his steps. He crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. Resting his hand on the small of her back, a possessive gesture that must have made 95% of the men in the room groan with envy, he leaned down to whisper in her ear.
“Yes Darling, I was mad as hell at you; but I have a couple of ideas about how to make you listen to me from now on.”
Nicki’s cheeks flushed. “Will I like them?”
“Have you ever not?”
Nicki’s eyes danced. “You know, big guy, that works two ways. I was angry at you, too.”
Rafe raised a brow and then winked at her.
“Bring it on, Darling.”
He leaned in closer.
“Don’t look now, Nicki, but you’re about to become even more of a center of attention.”
Four large men wearing obvious ear pieces and loose-fitting jackets signaling concealed weapons formed a phalanx around Senator Michaels. The ISA team stood at a discreet distance. Rafe ignored the approaching Senator himself, and instead nodded to the lead agent protecting Sen. Michaels.
“Good evening, Tom. Good to see you.” He turned to Nicki, “Darling, this Tom Cody, one of the secret service agents who’s been assigned to protect Senator Michaels in the event that you find it necessary to throw another knife at him. Tom, this is Nicki Powers, one of my partners. She also happens to be my fiancé.”
Agent Cody managed to suppress a grin but didn’t hide his wink.
“Good to see you, Rafe.” He bowed slightly to Nicki. “I’m pleased to meet you Ms. Powers. I’ve… I’ve heard a lot about you” At this point he couldn’t shut off his grin.
The veins on Senator Michaels’s forehead throbbed dangerously. Unable to hide his anger, his phony smile disappeared replaced by a glower.
“If you are finished exchanging pleasantries with the young woman who assaulted a United States Senator, Agent Cody, perhaps we can end this charade.”
Rafe faced the senator.
“Indeed, Senator. Let’s end the charade. I believe you have something to say to my colleague.”
Obviously wanting to get the ordeal over with, Senator Michaels glared at Nicki.
“Look, Ms. Powers, you misunderstood my intentions. I was appropriately angry that you had the gall to come into my office and accuse me of buying my senate seat with dirty money. I admit I responded badly and I apologize for my crude words.”
Nicki smiled.
“There was nothing appropriate in your behavior or that of your staff, Senator. But I accept your apology. I expect that you won’t do it again. At least not for the next twenty years or so.”
Senator Michaels frowned. “Are you threatening me, Ms. Powers?”
Nicki smiled. “Do you feel threatened, Senator? Or perhaps guilty?”
The Senator growled a
low ugly sound, but he stepped back when Rafe closed in next to Nicki.
“Perhaps the Senator is concerned that you aren’t through with him, Nicki. And knowing how persistent you are, I wager that he has a reason to be nervous.”
As if aware that the crowd surrounding them was jockeying to get closer to the action, Senator Michaels lowered his voice and glared at Rafe.
“Look you arrogant asshole, I’ve apologized and Ms. Powers has accepted my apology. Now, Boudin, the only thing that’s left is for you and me to ‘settle up.’ On that point, it’s only fair to warn you that my office has begun a Congressional investigation of ISA regarding your abusive tactics. I’m convinced that there are plenty of men who will testify against you.”
Rafe shrugged. “I’m sure there are, Senator. We’ve taken down a lot of assholes in the short time we’ve been in business.” He added pointedly, “And the list is about to get longer. “
Rafe tightened his arm around Nicki’s waist and spoke in a dangerously low voice.
“A final point, Senator. I’m the one who will decide when we’ve ‘settled up.’ Not to ‘threaten you’, but I’m not nearly finished with you.”
Chapter 7
“Rafe, I got it! We really are going to take him down. He’ll be in prison by the end of the year!”
Pulling Nicki away from the crowd, Rafe smiled at her.
“Gray showed me your report on Michaels, Nicki. Extraordinary work, Darling. Damn, just when I want to beat the hell out of you for going off on your own, you pull off something like this. I’m proud of you, Nicki.”
Nicki couldn’t hide her pride, but downplayed her role. “It helped that Michaels assumed his privileged position made him above the law. His arrogance helped. We just needed to get the hard evidence to take him down.”
“And, Darling, because of you, that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”