by Jillian Dodd
“You’re young and single. Of course there’s nothing wrong with that. I know I’m certainly not ready to settle down.”
“The Montrovian press seems to think otherwise.”
“Yeah, well, they haven’t photographed me with Lorenzo since the Ball, so I’m sure that will die down.”
“And I posted a photo of us together on my social media,” he says with a smirk.
“Daniel, my feelings are not a game to be won. And if you’re doing that just to get back at the King, you’re an even shittier friend than I thought.”
He hangs his head. “I didn’t do it for that reason. I just wanted . . .”
“Wanted what?”
“You to like me more. You turned me down in the bathroom, and what you said stung.”
“Maybe I should just go.”
“I don’t bring many girls home, Huntley. I didn’t ask you here to get you away from Lorenzo, I did it because I want them to meet you.”
“I don’t want to be in a relationship, Daniel. I just found out I have a brother. I can do all the things I used to dream about as a kid. I need to do those things, just like you need to go to the Olympics. Focus on your training. Your future. You get one shot at it. I don’t want to be a distraction. But I’d love to be in the stands cheering you on when you win.”
“You’ll come to the Olympics?” he asks, his eyes brightening to their brilliant blue color.
“Absolutely.”
The sound of a helicopter interrupts his leaning in to kiss me. “Sounds like Dad’s home from work.”
“Where does Marine Two land? Can we watch?”
He raises his eyebrows at me like I’m crazy.
“Although it may be an everyday occurrence to you, to most of us, it’d be a pretty cool thing to see.”
He gives me a quick kiss, then grabs my hand.
“We’ll have to hurry.” We run up the back stairs and down a long hallway to a bedroom, where we rush to the window and pull open the curtains. “They will land on the lawn right across from here.”
I watch in awe as the helicopter lands, and the Vice President gets out and walks, flanked by Secret Service, to his home.
“Come on, let’s go downstairs.”
“Nice car,” are the first words spoken to me by the Acting President of the United States.
“Thanks, it was one of my father’s,” I reply, shaking his hand. “I’m Huntley Von Allister.”
“That was his first big break, you know,” Daniel’s father, Vice President Ryan Spear, says.
“What was?”
“Ares Von Allister is best known for his military inventions, but his first big financial deal was selling a high performance braking mechanism to Ferrari.” He points at the wheel. “Take a closer look at the red caliper there.”
I kneel down to inspect it, noticing for the first time the Von Allister company logo, a V and A layered over each other in a circular monogram that was prevalent at his facility. “That’s pretty cool.”
“I heard he had quite the Ferrari collection.”
I nod. “I just saw it for the first time today. It is impressive.”
We make our way into the house as Daniel’s mother is coming down the staircase dressed in a soft teal wrap dress and sensible heels.
“You’re late,” she says to her husband and gives him a playful kiss. In one simple exchange, it’s obvious how deeply they care for each other. “Grab a drink and join us in the dining room.”
“My parents are on their way. They’ll be staying with us for a few days,” he says to his wife.
“Did you let the staff know?” she asks.
“Julie did,” he says. “She said she texted you, as well.”
She waves her hand. “Sorry, I forgot to look at my phone. I stopped by to see the First Lady before I left the hospital.”
“How is she doing?”
“She’s hanging in there, but his prognosis is not good. There’s very little brain function. I feel so badly for her. I can’t even imagine going through that. She feels so helpless. It’s sad. There is literally nothing they can do but wait for him to pass.”
“You don’t think there’s any chance of him recovering?”
“I’d say his odds are less than one percent and diminishing.”
Daniel’s father lowers his head and makes his way to the bar just as the front door bursts open due to a gust of wind catching the Secret Service agent who opened it off guard.
He grabs the door and announces, “Your parents have arrived.”
A few moments later, the family is hugging each other in the entryway, and I’m introduced to Daniel’s grandparents, Joseph Spear and his wife, Judith. After some small talk, we’re seated in the dining room as dinner is ready to be served.
I’m next to Daniel on one side of the table, opposite his grandparents, and his mother and father are sitting at the heads of the table. I’m making polite conversation but am mostly just enthralled watching them interact. They seem very close, and I come to learn that while Daniel shares his mother’s temperament, he owes his form and bright blue eyes to his father and grandfather. I know I’d sure as hell vote for either of the elder Spears. It’s fun to see all three generations lined up, matching eyes, similar height and build, but with varying shades of hair color. Daniel’s is dark, making the contrast of his eyes more distinct. His father’s is a salt and pepper mix, and his grandfather’s completely grey. Each stage of life equally attractive in different ways. While his grandfather seems more refined, his father seems to love the challenge of the game—another trait passed on to his son.
His mother exudes a strong confidence. She’s smart, straightforward, and affable. I could see the political arena feeling like bullshit to her. I also suspect trust is extremely important to her. She’s nice to me but slightly aloof. Or maybe that’s just a natural reaction to all the girls who come and go from Daniel’s life. She knows I won’t last, so why bother getting to know me.
Grandma, on the other hand, loves me. Apparently, she follows the tabloids and knows of my relationship with Lorenzo, probably more reason why Daniel’s mother doesn’t care for me, and keeps me engaged in conversation.
A few moments after our soup dishes are removed and our main course placed in front of us, a phone vibrates.
“It’s the First Lady,” Dr. Spear says. “I need to take this.” She steps into the hallway, speaks in hushed tones, then comes back in the room looking solemn. “The President passed away a few minutes ago. I gave her our sincere condolences.”
She no more than gets the words out of her mouth when the Vice President’s phone starts ringing. He answers, says he understands, and hangs up.
“I will be sworn in as President,” he says numbly. “Shouldn’t I get a few moments to mourn?”
“Are you required to have an official swearing in and an inaugural party?” Daniel asks. “All that pomp and circumstance would seem disrespectful considering the circumstances.”
“No, that’s only for elected Presidents. We have to put our grief aside for a few moments. Our country can’t be without a leader.” He smiles at his dad. “And how lucky I am to have my father, a judge, here to be able to do it for me.”
Grandpa nods, his eyes filled with pride. “It would be my honor.”
Very quickly the dining room is filled with the Vice President’s staff. “Sir—”
“We’ve already been informed on the President’s passing,” Daniel’s dad says. “Amanda just spoke to the First Lady.”
“We need to get you sworn in immediately, sir.”
“We’ll need a Bible,” Grandpa says.
“Let’s all go into the study,” Daniel’s mother suggests.
Once in the study, Daniel’s father scans a bookshelf. “I have multiple Bibles, but this one seems most appropriate.”
Grandma gets tears in her eyes when he shows it to her. “That was the Bible my father gave to you when you became Governor. It’s been in our family
for generations.”
We gather around and watch as the Honorable Joseph Spear places the Bible in his palm and holds it in front of his son. Acting Vice President Ryan Spear raises his right hand and places his left hand on the Bible.
“Repeat after me,” the judge says. “I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States, so help me God.”
After repeating the words, he shakes his head. “I have always dreamed of becoming President, but not in this way. Let’s have a moment of silence for Jack.”
The new President of the United States is given hugs by his family, and I’m feeling both proud to be an American and lucky to have been able to witness this piece of history for myself.
“You’ll need to address the nation,” his advisor states. “After that, I’ll share a photo of the swearing in with the media.”
“You arrange for a press conference, while we finish our meal,” he replies. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.”
After dessert, I bid the family goodnight.
“I’m sorry our dinner was interrupted,” President Spear says. “It was very nice to meet you.”
“It was a pleasure to meet your family, as well. My condolences for your loss—and, I guess, congratulations.”
The President nods his head solemnly, and Daniel walks me to my car.
“I can’t believe that just happened,” he says, pulling me into his arms. “It’s almost surreal.”
“I know. You are now the First Son.”
“Which means even more Secret Service to deal with.”
“But I bet the White House has a bigger pool.”
He grins. “You’re right. They do. It was built by Gerald Ford, who swam laps most every day.”
“See, there you go.”
“Do you have to leave?”
“We have house guests, remember?”
“Oh, trust me, I haven’t forgotten that Lorenzo is sleeping across the hall from you. Just make sure it stays that way,” he says, lowering his mouth to mine in a possessive kiss.
“I really have to go,” I tell him, pulling my lips away and sliding in the car.
When I arrive back at the mansion, the butler informs me that Ari is out for the evening and that Lorenzo is in the theater room.
I slip my heels off and head that way, only to find Juan and Lorenzo both sound asleep, an action movie playing loudly in the background. I don’t blame them.
They had been awake for almost twenty-four hours.
I quietly slip out of the room and am soon in my own bed.
MISSION:DAY TWO
Even though I was exhausted and fell asleep the second my head hit the pillow, my internal clock is messed up and I find myself wide awake at four in the morning.
I patter down the stairs, make a cup of coffee, and on my way back hear the sounds of a television coming from Lorenzo’s room across the hall.
I go back downstairs, make another cup of coffee, return to the hall, and then gently knock on his door.
He answers wearing just a pair of pajama bottoms. Although his physique isn’t as bulky as Daniel’s, it’s equally impressive.
I bite my lip. “Heard the television, thought you might want some coffee.”
“Thank you. Would you like to come in?”
I walk into his room, set a cup of coffee on his nightstand, and climb onto his bed.
“Last night you were on the sidelines of history.”
“Yeah, that was kind of crazy. We were sitting there eating dinner when they got the call. And within minutes we were in the study watching him being sworn in.”
He turns his computer, showing me a photo of the swearing in. I’m standing next to Daniel looking very patriotic in my outfit choice.
“That photo of President Spear being sworn in will be in every history book printed from this day forward. With you in it.”
“I wonder what the history books will say when they find out that Huntley Von Allister was not who she said she was, but rather a covert agent and trained assassin.”
“And you have the Montrovian rumor mills buzzing again, Contessa.” He flips to a Montrovian tabloid that’s contemplating my relationship with Lorenzo. “They don’t know what to think of you. First, you are photographed at the gala in Washington with Daniel, then spend a week being photographed with me.”
“Are they calling me the orphan slut now?”
He laughs. “On the contrary, they are calling you a very lucky girl.”
“I suppose. Two incredibly handsome men, vying for my heart. Which would be great if that were true.”
“You don’t think Daniel and I are vying for your heart?”
“I think Daniel’s only concern is for my body.”
“He does not fancy you other than in his bed?”
I shrug. “He’s very hot and cold. One minute he wants me to meet his parents and support him at the Olympics, the next he’s telling me he likes no strings relationships because he can’t be distracted during his training.”
“That is the problem with American men. They are afraid to clearly state their intentions.”
“Does the Playboy Prince usually state his intentions to the women he beds?” I roll my eyes.
“Actually, I do,” he says, his heated gaze trailing down my body, which I realize now is very scantily clad in only a skimpy silk robe. “Would you like me to state my intentions toward you more clearly than I already have?”
“Um . . .”
He leans closer to me and says in his dreamy accent, “I desire you, Huntley, and am fully committed in my pursuit.”
I grab the computer off his lap and click back to the article about President Spear’s swearing in. Anything to change the subject. “I look sad in the picture.”
“You do, as is appropriate in that situation.”
“It was hard. You could feel his family’s pride. Imagine your dad being sworn in as President.” I glance at him and laugh. “Okay, so you probably don’t have to imagine something like that. Anyway, there was the pride, but also the sorrow of losing their family friend. I suppose that’s how you felt during your coronation. A lot of mixed emotions.”
“That’s exactly how I felt.”
“So what did you do last night? What are your plans for today?”
“Ari and I had dinner. He went out after, and Juan and I watched a movie. Well, part of it. I fell asleep. I have a staff meeting this morning then a visit to the Embassy. There is a formal event at the Embassy this week. Would you be willing to accompany me?”
“I’d love to.” I set my coffee on his nightstand. “I’m sleepy, but I can’t sleep.”
He holds his arm out, so I can snuggle up to him. The gesture causes my heart to do a little flip.
I should leave.
All my instincts and training are yelling at me to leave.
But I don’t want to.
So I lie down next to him and enjoy the feel of his arms wrapped around me and his lips pressed against my temple. When I turn to face him, he kisses me. It’s a slow, tentative kiss. Like he’s dipping his toes in a pool to determine its temperature. When I run my hand through the back of his hair, he must decide it’s warm and dives in, his tongue tangling with mine.
Our kissing quickly becomes heated, his hand sliding under my robe.
“Um?”
He stops kissing me, but his hand continues to caress my bare skin.
“Is my show of affection making you uncomfortable?”
“No, I just—”
“Do you wish I halt my advances?”
“Yes . . . no . . . maybe.”
“Which is it, my sweet?”
My body, which had tensed, relaxes when he calls me that. I want to just sigh with happiness. What would I do if I weren’t a spy? Probably allow myself to fall head over heels in love with him only to get heartbroken. Re
gardless of how dreamy he is, his reputation is for loving and leaving them.
Which makes me wonder why I don’t just love him?
Not like fall for him, I mean experience him, sexually.
His hand glides down my arm. “You are not so uptight. You like words of love?”
But I can’t do that, either. It was only a few days ago when I was last with Daniel. Even though sex is supposed to be only about pleasure, it doesn’t feel right. I start to rise. “I think I better go back to my room.”
“Don’t go, Huntley,” he says, holding his hands up in defeat. “I enjoy the pleasure of your company. Do you not wish to have a physical relationship with me?”
“I have a purely physical relationship with Daniel. It suits my lifestyle.”
“And you aren’t interested in a purely physical relationship with me?”
“I could never have a purely physical relationship with you, Lorenzo. The only reason I slept with Daniel on the yacht is because I thought we were over.”
“So are we to start anew? Am I—as you Americans say it—back on first base with you?”
I laugh but feel like crying. I reach out and touch his handsome face then shake my head. “I can’t have a physical relationship with you, because it would be my undoing.”
“You already have me completely undone. I long to experience more with you. Every kiss is precious and exquisite,” he says, his thumb tracing the line of my collarbone then moving to caress my face. When his knuckles graze my lips, I squeeze his hand and press my lips against it, enjoying the tenderness of the moment.
Then I jump off the bed, tears in my eyes. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”
I run to my room, flop across my bed, and allow myself to dream of a different life.
Then I shake my head to clear my silly thoughts and get in the shower.
I’m just getting dressed for the day when I get a text from Terrance. Just a single dot. Like maybe it was a butt-text. But then I run into the closet, grab my handbag, and pull out the phone he gave me.
I have seven missed calls from him over the last few days. I hadn’t bothered to check it while I was on vacation.