“How is she doing now?” Mel asked.
Alex lifted his head, looked at her blankly. “Who?”
“My friend who was in the hospital. How is she doing? I mean, I need to know how to act when I’m asked about her. Did she have a heart attack or a baby? Is she alive? Comatose? Treated and released?”
He closed his eyes. “Which would you prefer?”
She thought a moment. “She had a baby. Twins. I’m experienced with that. I won’t need to lie so much. And they’re all doing just fine.”
He nodded. “It’s a good story.”
“We’ll be landing in two minutes,” the pilot announced.
“Oh, God.” Mel’s hand tightened on the armrest between her and Alex. His hand slid over hers, rested there.
“Don’t be nervous. This is gonna be fine, I promise.”
Swallowing hard, she nodded.
A short while later, Mel stepped out of the small airplane with Alex right behind her. From the moment they started down the steps, he was close to her, one arm around her waist, hand resting on her hip, as if she were too delicate to walk down the stairs by herself. She knew he didn’t like her very much, and she guessed it must be tough on him to try to play the role of adoring husband.
Her entourage came behind her, but she resisted the urge to turn and look back at her mother or sisters in search of reassurance. She and Bernadette and Alex had been over and over this routine. Together they had watched countless tapes of Katerina and Thomas. They clung to each other, fawned over each other. Nothing vulgar, no public necking, but it seemed wherever they went they were always touching, always making eye contact, exchanging secret little messages and long, lingering looks. The two were utterly dopey about each other. It was easy behavior to emulate. Especially when Alex was wearing the beard and talking in that accent. She could do this. She could pretend he was someone she was utterly crazy about.
She plastered a smile on her face, drawing a little more warmth from Alex’s physical proximity than was probably wise. They reached the tarmac, and the arm around her waist retreated, replaced by the more proper bent arm at his side, which she took hold of with both hands—an impulse move. He glanced down at her, smiled a little. She smiled back, tried to feign an adoring gaze.
“Nice touch,” he whispered.
Together they walked ahead, to the place where men and women, the political elite of Texas, formed a gauntlet she was supposed to run. To the far left and right of her, she saw the Secret Service agents, and she felt Alex tense.
“What is it?” she whispered from behind her smile.
“Nothing.”
“You know one of them, don’t you?”
He glanced down, gave a slight nod. “Just stay in the role. We’re fine.”
They approached the waiting dignitaries. Each took her hand in greeting, then took Alex’s. Each offered some version of “Welcome back to Texas.” She nodded, smiled, returned their grips with a firm one, but not too firm, and said, “Thank you, we’re so happy to be here,” more times than she cared to count.
“My goodness,” one woman said. “You look so fresh after such a long flight. How do you do it?”
“Long flight? But it was only—” Alex’s hand patted hers where it rested on his arm.
“We have so little time alone together,” he said, in that sexy accent. He gazed down at her, his eyes warm behind the tinted glasses. “I’m afraid the flight seemed all too brief.”
Her tummy fluttered a little. She silently reminded herself that this was pretend. Then she lowered her head and lashes, as if embarrassed.
The woman laughed and beamed at them.
A limo pulled to a stop ahead. The rear doors opened, and the agents hustled them toward it. Alex stood back while Mel faced away from the car, lowered her delicate rump onto the seat, smoothing her skirt with one hand, then drew her legs in as one, toes pointed. She had practiced getting in and out of the car 150 times in the driveway of her own home before they’d headed to the airport.
She saw, too, Bernadette’s approving look as she and the rest of the “staff” got into other waiting vehicles.
Alex slid in beside her. The door closed, and the limo pulled away.
Mel leaned back in the seat, closed her eyes and sighed in relief.
The divider window slid open, and the driver said, “Very nice job.”
Alex went tense, his hand sliding to his side, giving Mel the impression that he carried a gun there. Of course he did. She should have realized. Mel covered his hand with hers, though, as she caught the driver’s face reflected in the rearview mirror. He was darkly handsome, Native American—and familiar.
“Wait a minute, I—do I know you?”
“Wes Brand. Welcome to Texas, cuz.”
“Brand?” Alex asked, shooting a puzzled look from Mel to the driver and back again.
Ignoring Alex, Mel blinked in surprise. “Wes? Oh my God, I haven’t seen anyone from your side of the family since—gosh, since I was five or six years old.”
“Too long,” Wes said. “Way too long. I figured it was high time we fixed that.”
“Would someone mind explaining to me just what the hell is going on?”
She glanced at Alex, who looked ready to kill someone. “Wes is my cousin. One of a whole pile of cousins, the Texas Brands.”
“There’s more of us all the time,” Wes said. Then he met Alex’s gaze in the rearview. “Vidalia called us. And don’t go getting angry about it. She’s concerned about Mel’s safety.”
“It’s a matter of national security,” Alex said. “My God, how many of you people know about this?”
“Just Garrett and I. Garrett’s the sheriff of Quinn, and you can trust us both with this information. We realized Vidalia was breaking protocol by confiding in us, and we knew better than to spread it around. But we also felt it couldn’t hurt to have one of us inside, keeping an eye on the situation just in case.” He sent Mel a wink. “Estranged or not, Mel’s family.”
“I can’t even believe you did this for me.” Mel couldn’t stop smiling. “We’ve got so much to catch up on! You know, this job might not be as miserable as I thought it would be.”
Alex rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat while Mel and Wes Brand talked about family, cousins, marriages, babies. Mel knew he was angry, but she didn’t really care. She felt safer, more confident, having Wes there. Even though she barely knew him, she knew he was family. A Brand. And in the Brand family, family came first.
It was the code they all lived by. And though Mel’s own branch of the family had been estranged from the Texas branch for a long time now, they’d never questioned one another’s commitment to that unspoken vow.
It came with the Brand name.
She trusted her kin. More than she trusted anyone else. Including the man sitting beside her right now.
“I can have you off this job and back on your ranch with a phone call,” Alex said to Wes. “I could probably have you behind bars just as easily.”
Wes’s eyes narrowed in the mirror. “You can try.”
“No, no, look, there’s no need for this,” Mel said quickly. “Alex, he said they didn’t tell anyone else. And—well, hell, I feel safer having Wes here. I mean, Mom and the girls are one thing. But in my family I’m the tough one. I’m the protector. With Wes, I feel like there’s someone else around to look out for me.”
Alex slanted her a sideways glance. “That’s what I’m here to do.”
Wes looked up sharply from the front seat. “Oh. Now I get it.”
“Get what?” Alex asked, and his tone was not friendly.
“Hey, ease off, will you?” Wes snapped. “I’m her cousin.”
“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
The two faced off via the rearview until Wes had to jerk his eyes to the road again. “The way I see it,” he said, speaking slowly, “one more set of eyes watching over Mel can’t hurt things. And it could help. At least there’s
no question whose side I’m on.”
“We’re all on the same side.”
“Not exactly,” Wes said. “All the other shadowy characters you’ve got working this thing are on the government’s side. I’m on Mel’s.”
“And you think I’m not?” Alex asked.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
Mel put a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Please let him stay.”
“No.”
Her face tensed. She felt it heat as her temper rose to dangerous levels. “Fine. Stop the car, Wes.”
“Huh?”
“Stop the car. You and I are getting out. Right here, right now.”
“Mel,” Alex began
“Screw you, Alex. I’ve been taking all the crap you and your damn makeover maven have been dishing out for twenty-four hours, all because you say my country needs me. Well, my country may need me, but if all it can do is use me, then it can go to hell, and you can go with it.”
Alex stared at her, gaping for a long moment. Wes was still driving, but he had slowed down considerably. Finally Alex leaned his head against the seat back. “Keep driving. You can stay.”
Mel grated her teeth. No apology. Hell, no, that would be a freaking miracle. But at least he’d surrendered. She forced the words to her mouth, though they tasted like bile coming out. “Thank you.”
He said nothing.
The car pulled into the circular drive. Agents were already there, so Alex knew the place was secure. One of them opened Mel’s door. She slipped back into character immediately, stretching her long, shapely legs out, alighting from the car with ease. She was good at this, he admitted to himself grudgingly. And so damn stunning to look at that he doubted anyone would notice a slip anyway. She waited for him to emerge, and he did, standing close enough to her that their hips were touching, an arm lightly around her waist. He automatically scanned the area, his eyes sharp from long practice. Some habits didn’t break easily. Mel might think he was useless, and he fully admitted he probably would be at ranching or roping bulls or wilderness camping. He was not a cowboy. Had never claimed to be. But he was a damn fine Secret Service agent, one of the best before he resigned. He could protect her better than anyone he knew. If she couldn’t see that, then fine. He really didn’t care.
Seeing nothing to alarm him, he started forward, toward the walk and the steps to the front door, but Mel hesitated.
He glanced down at her and saw the wonder in her eyes as she stared at the house in which they were to be staying for the next few days. He’d thought it nothing so unusual. Just another Georgian manor like so many in the area. But he looked at it again now, trying to see it through her eyes. Her little farmhouse in Oklahoma could fit inside this one four times over. While her own lawn at home was kept neatly mowed and was dotted with plots of daffodils and petunias, this one was professionally manicured, completely fenced in and included a flagstone path, fountains and cement figures of Greek deities.
It must seem like a palace to her. However, it wouldn’t to Katerina. He squeezed her just a bit closer. “I know it’s not what you’re used to, my love. But it will do, yes?”
She blinked away the look of awe and smiled at him. “Smaller only means we’ll remain closer to each other.”
A camera flashed. She didn’t flinch, just averted her face and picked up her gait a bit. A second later they were inside, closing the doors behind themselves, locking them. She started to relax the second they were in the house, he saw it when she pulled free of his loosely linked arm and sighed, looking around the place.
He snagged her again, pulled her close to him and held her cradled to his chest, even as she tensed. “Shh. Stay in character,” he whispered. With one hand he cupped the back of her head, bending as if to nuzzle her ear but really the better to whisper words she could hear. “There’s always an outside chance the place could be bugged.”
“And you need to make love to me in the living room in order to whisper to me?” she hissed back.
“Look at the windows.”
She did, and saw what he wanted her to see. The faces several yards beyond, straining to see inside. Reporters with cameras and zoom lenses. Mel’s arms closed around him, palms flat to his back. She pressed her face closer to his ear. “So we have to do this any time we want to speak freely?”
“You complaining?”
“As if I’d be the first?”
He smiled. He couldn’t help it. She was good at sparring, and he enjoyed it. “Yes, you would be the first, as a matter of fact.”
“You should count yourself lucky, Al. Any other man groped me the way you’re doing, I’d incapacitate him. Maybe permanently.”
“I know, I’ve seen you in action.”
“So you gonna let go of me now?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why not?”
“You smell good.”
She bit his earlobe, and, God help him, he liked it. But it startled him enough so that he let her go. But when he did, she was smiling, and he thought it was genuine this time, not part of her act. She’d been tense in the car. So had he, and he’d hoped to ease it by teasing her a little. Maybe he’d succeeded.
“Thomas, what about the staff?” she asked in her Katerina-soft tones, even as she walked to the front windows and gently drew the drapes closed.
“They’ve been fully briefed by now, my love. Just as we have. I’m sure they know where everything is and are already settling into their routine.”
“May we check in on them?”
“Of course.” He knew she was concerned about her mother and sisters settling into all of this. He led her through the massive house, through large, opulent rooms into the more mundane parts in the back. There were a kitchen, bathrooms, a living area and a dining room clearly intended for the house staff. A separate stairway led to their bedrooms upstairs. They found the gang sitting around a small kitchen table, notepads in front of them. Vidalia, Selene and Kara all wore the same turquoise dresses as Sophie and Sally, the new hair and makeup girls. Bernadette wore a chic-looking black suit. Wes was dressed in a navy suit.
“Thomas, Katerina! You needn’t have come, I was going to come and brief you as soon as I had finished with the staff,” Bernadette said, rising from her seat.
Alex held up a hand, indicating they should remain seated. “My wife wanted to assure herself you had all arrived and have everything you need.”
“Like the gracious princess she is,” Vidalia quipped, a mischievous light in her eyes. Kara elbowed her and suppressed a giggle.
Bernadette sent them a look but quickly returned her attention to the “newlyweds.” “I have your schedule for you. If you’d like to go over it now…?”
“Yes, please, I would very much like to,” Mel said.
“Very good, then.” Bernadette flipped pages in her notepad. “Luncheon will be with the ladies of the Freedom Alliance. You’ll be speaking at that function, Katerina. I have your speech prepared.” She bent to a case beside her and pulled out a sheaf of papers, handing it to Mel. “After that you have three interviews with the press lined up this afternoon, at two, three and four o’clock respectively, and then a state dinner tonight at seven, hosted by the mayor.”
Mel only looked at her. Then at Alex. Then at the speech in her hand.
“Three interviews is too much, Bernadette,” Alex said. “After all, it’s only our first day. Cancel them and tell the press to expect a written statement instead, all right?”
Bernadette nodded firmly, scribbling in her notepad. “Done.”
He glanced at Mel. She was a little on the pale side. “I think you should rest before the luncheon, take the time to go over your speech, hmm?”
She nodded.
“We’re going to find our room,” he told them. Vidalia sent him a warning glance. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring nod and turned Mel to guide her back through the house and up the wide stairs to the second floor.
It wasn’t difficult to find t
he master suite. He’d been given the layout of the house in advance and had committed it to memory. He flung open the double doors at the far end of the main hall and led her into the wide sitting room. It included a fireplace, laid ready for lighting, a glass-topped coffee table, surrounded by French provincial chairs and a settee. In another section of the room, a nook surrounded on three sides by windows, there were a small dining table and a pair of chairs. He didn’t stop there, though she would have. In fact, she started to head to the settee, but he clasped her hand and pulled her along behind him, through the next door that led to the opulent bedroom, with its four-poster bed piled high with mattresses, pillows, bolsters. The comforter was powder blue, to match the bedskirt. The bed was so high it had a footstool beside it for easier access.
She planted her feet, her eyes glued to that bed.
He held her eyes, shook his head once and tugged her into motion again. Through another door, the bathroom waited. As large as Mel’s living room at home, it held a sunken tub, a separate shower big enough for more than one occupant at a time, and a bubbling redwood hot tub near the windows.
After closing the door behind him, Alex walked around turning on all the faucets and flipping the switches that started the overhead fans running. When he came back to her, she was sitting on the steps to the hot tub.
“The last place anyone would bug would be the private bath,” he said. “It’s small enough that we can sweep it easily and often, and it’s too easy for us to drown out our voices with all the water and fans.” He sat down beside her. “Still, keep your voice down.”
Drawing a troubled breath, she lifted her gaze to his. “They expect me to give speeches and interviews?” Her eyes were wide, and their color, that dark sapphire blue with darker midnight stripes, held his attention. He hadn’t noticed those stripes before. They drew him in. “You never told me that, Alex. I wasn’t expecting it.”
“There’s nothing to it. Your speech is written for you. All you need to do is read it.”
She blinked at him, so his eyes broke their hold. “That’s easy for you to say. Public speaking is not something I’ve ever been able to deal with. I almost failed high school English because of it. Part of the final exam was an oral presentation. I thought I would die up there.”
Secrets and Lies Page 4