by Shayla Black
Who could have guessed being pregnant would make her crave sex so badly?
“I was alone for a long time after you…” He hadn’t actually died, so she couldn’t call it that anymore. “After you ripped my heart out and faked your death, so I started talking to her. We would take long walks on the beach and I would tell her about the world, about her family. I’m sure everyone in the Hamptons thought I’d lost my mind.”
“I want to talk to her.”
“What?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “You get to talk to her all the time. I want some time with her, too. You seem determined that we won’t be a couple again, so she should get used to each of us having partial custody.”
Talking about the notion of custody made Sara ill. She hadn’t given that reality any thought because for so long, Mad had been “dead.” Oh, god… Would they end up in court? Would her child be something they fought over?
Mad dropped to his knees in front of her, his eyes softening with sheer emotion. “Hey, don’t worry. We’ll work everything out, and I promise we won’t need a lawyer to do it. I’m never going to fight you on this, and I trust that you won’t keep our daughter from me.”
“I wouldn’t do that.” She couldn’t keep him out of their daughter’s life if he wanted to be in it. This child deserved two loving parents, and if he could be that, she would never let her own problems with him interfere with their bond.
He nodded. “I know. So don’t worry. No matter what happens, we’re going to love her and respect each other. We made her together. We’ll parent her the same way whether we’re a couple or not.”
Sara nodded, choking back emotion. Everything Mad said was logical, even reasonable. Of course they would make the best of this situation. But she’d be lying if she said it didn’t make her sad to think about the two of them raising their daughter apart.
“So I think we should begin as we mean to go. I want equal time with her starting now.”
What was he trying to say? “You want to talk to our daughter, too?”
“Yep. And I’d love to feel her moving. But I won’t touch you, even for that, if you don’t want me to.”
She wished he would say something annoying or screw up in some way so she would have a good reason to lose her temper with him. Because as solicitous and charming as Mad was being now, she couldn’t deny him. Somewhere along the way he’d figured out how to defuse her anger. “It’s all right. I’m going to lie back. She moves a lot when I’m still. It’s like I start to relax or drift off, and she decides it’s play time.”
His eyes lit up and he held out his hand to help her lie back. Once she’d settled, he climbed on the mattress beside her and reached out, seeming almost hesitant to lay his hand on her baby bump.
“You won’t hurt her. I’m not fragile either.” She took his hand and brought it to her belly. “You might have to wait for it. Like her mother, she doesn’t perform on command.”
“I remember a time when you did perform on command,” he said, his tone going silky smooth, reminding her again just how sexy he could be. “When we were in Toronto for that conference—”
“No.” She shot him a censuring stare to let him know they were not strolling down memory lane. “I thought you wanted to talk to our daughter, Mad, not seduce me.”
His expression turned serious, and he caressed her belly as he settled comfortably beside her. “Have we decided on a name yet or am I just calling her Baby Girl?”
“We?”
He winced. “By we I mean you because I gave up all rights to name the baby what I would have when…how did you put it? I ripped your heart out and faked my own death.”
He was definitely learning. “Excellent. No. We haven’t decided. Dare I ask what name you would have selected if you hadn’t done all those foolish things?”
“Hortense. It was my grandmother’s name, and she made me promise to hand it down to my daughter if I ever had one. She said the world would have less problems if women were named properly. As if naming my daughter Hortense would somehow keep her from wet T-shirt contests and dancing on bars.”
“You are not naming her Hortense.”
“Well, I’m not now because I did all those other things. So when you really think about it, I kind of saved her from a childhood of teasing and misery.”
She shook her head, noting his clever play. “Not working. Now talk to Baby Girl.”
He fell silent for a moment and she closed her eyes against his stare, trying not to enjoy the feel of him pressed against her, his hand resting where their child grew.
“Hey, Baby Girl. I’m your dad. I know. I’ve been gone most of the time you’ve been baking in there, so I’ve missed a lot of stuff. But I thought about you every second of every day I was gone. You and your mom.” He caressed her belly, and Sara tried not to be moved. “I’m going to level with you. I don’t know how much I’m going to bring to the table here, kiddo. My dad was not the best parent and my mom mostly shopped her way through my childhood. So I don’t know a ton about how to be a good dad, but I’m going to try. I’m sure there’s a YouTube video or an app. Something. I promise I’ll figure it out.”
She opened her eyes. “Seriously?”
He frowned at her. “This is a private conversation between me and my daughter, please.”
She rolled her eyes, then shut them again because it appeared he was serious.
“I also don’t bring a ton of family. My parents are both gone, and I didn’t have any siblings growing up. I had some friends and they were my family. I can tell you stories about your Uncle Gabe.”
She scowled at him because she knew some of those stories herself.
Mad shrugged with all innocence. “Only the G-rated ones. I promise.” He looked back at her belly. “Don’t tell your mom. She worries I’ll corrupt you, but you’ve already got my blood running through your veins. I fear for your teenaged years. Unless you take after your mom. Then I just fear because your mother is the most beautiful woman in the world. She’s gorgeous and kind. And she’s so smart, I had to hustle for years to even get her to look at me.”
Not true. Sara had always looked at him.
When she was younger and Gabe would say he was bringing home a friend for the weekend, she’d always prayed it was Mad. Even at the age of ten, she’d had the worst crush on him. He’d been thirteen, and he’d been funny and patient with her even then. Every time she’d clapped eyes on him she’d sighed.
Once she’d turned sixteen, he’d started to notice her as a woman. Of course his reputation had been cemented by then. She had been smart enough to know he could break her heart.
And he had.
“She’s the only woman I’ve ever loved, the only one I ever said I love you to. But that’s going to change because I love you, Baby Girl. You’re the only two women I’ll ever say those three words to. I love you and I’ll do everything I can to be here for you. I promise.”
Her daughter fluttered, and Mad’s eyes widened with wonder.
Sara couldn’t help but smile. “That’s her. She hears you.”
He caressed her belly in return. “I hear you, too, Baby Girl.”
Then Mad sighed as though he was completely content with the world. Despite being known as the world’s most infamous playboy, he seemed totally happy just chilling and talking to his unborn child.
As the sound of his voice began to lull her to sleep, Sara realized she was happy, too.
* * * *
Zack shook the hand of the reporter and photographer, relieved to have this chore off his checklist without too much fuss.
“Thanks for being so flexible, Mr. President. And for taking the time.” The photographer slung his bag over his shoulder.
“It was no trouble,” Zack replied as Elizabeth stood nearby, giving the reporter a gracious smile as she shook his hand.
The light in the China Room was sunny and bright, almost golden. It practically gave Elizabeth a halo. She looked so pretty standing th
ere. If this piece of publicity had taken place a few months down the line, she would have been in that picture with him, showing off the elegant china pattern she’d selected for his term in office. She’d picked it, of course, but she wasn’t the First Lady so he’d been forced to stand beside the place setting alone as the press documented it for posterity. Instead, Elizabeth had stood back, carefully arranging everything, making sure this chore came off smoothly for him, exactly as she’d done for years.
As the reporter and photographer left with their escort, he thought about the mountain of work waiting for him in the Oval. Elizabeth probably had her own Everest of paperwork and emails on her desk back in the press office. But damn it, he didn’t want to spend the afternoon apart from her.
Mad was so lucky. Oh, he was sure Sara wasn’t making anything easy on him, but at least Mad got to spend every moment with the woman he loved. No one forced him to spend countless hours apart from her in order to listen to congressmen complain and senators bark. Mad didn’t have to wait until after dark to hold her in his arms, feel his skin against hers.
He shouldn’t either.
Zack joined Elizabeth, smiling now that they were alone. “What’s your schedule like the rest of the day?”
“I’ve got to get ready for tomorrow’s briefing. I haven’t done one in a week, and the White House press pool is starting to circle like hungry sharks.” She glanced around and made certain they were alone with the exception of Thomas. “I’ve also put out some feelers to narrow down who we’ll trust to do Roman and Gus’s interview. The Times picked up the story today. Tomorrow it will be all over the morning shows.”
“I know. He does, too. We’re ready.”
“I don’t think we are. I’m worried that Paul Harding will go to the press himself with his own version of the truth.”
She’d mentioned Paul’s threats, but Zack wasn’t particularly worried about them. He wasn’t sure what Paul could say that hadn’t already been suggested, and they had a couple of excellent distractions if need be. He and Elizabeth dating would take over all the news cycles when they chose to come out of the shadows.
And at some point, Maddox Crawford’s rising from the grave would send the press into a tizzy, and nothing else would occupy the news for a good long while. They had time and resources to deal with Paul.
He took Elizabeth’s hand and headed for the hall. “Let’s have lunch in the residence today.”
Because he wanted to lay her out and make a meal of her.
“Zack, you’re not taking this seriously enough.” Her heels clicked across the floor as she hurried to keep pace with him. “He was genuinely angry. I think he meant everything he threatened. He’s been out of the game for a while, but he still has connections. He’ll use them against us if we don’t handle this right.”
Fine. She wanted to talk? He could do that. He stopped in the middle of the China Room and hauled her against his body, relishing the way her breasts flattened against his chest. “We’re following your plan.”
She was a bit breathless as she looked up at him. “And I still think it’s a good plan, but I didn’t think Joy’s father would come at us this hard. I’m worried what he’ll do.”
He brushed back her hair and leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Stop worrying. We’re going to follow your plan and everything will be fine. We’re so close to being virtually bulletproof. A few more moves, and they won’t be able to hurt us.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Don’t be so cavalier. They can still come after you about shutting down the FAA report. And Gabe.”
“Ah, but if they do we’ve got the best piece of evidence of all. Gabe can’t have killed Mad and I can’t have covered for him because Mad’s not dead. See, soon they will have absolutely no more secrets to blackmail me with.” Nothing…except his identity.
But he couldn’t think about that now.
“Mr. President, a private, guided tour is about to walk through,” Thomas said, gesturing to the hall.
Damn it. The place had been shut down for self-guided tours today, but apparently someone, likely a bigwig, had scheduled a private gig. They did them so rarely. It was pure bad luck to have one moving through.
Still, if Zack let Elizabeth go now, he wouldn’t get her back until evening. That didn’t suit him at all.
He scanned the room and found what he was looking for—a door. “Thank you for the heads-up, Thomas. We’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Zack?” Elizabeth sounded startled as he hauled her into the closet. It was perfect. Dark and quiet, and with plenty of room. “What are you doing?”
“I’ve been a good boy all day. I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to do. Kiss me.” He fumbled on the wall for the light switch and turned it on. He wanted to see her.
Her eyes were wide. “You want me to kiss you? Here?”
“I’m the president of the United States and this is my house. I should explore it more thoroughly and often. This is a very nice closet, don’t you think? Now kiss me.”
“You know where that usually leads.”
God, he hoped so.
Zack flashed her a winning smile. Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but he saw the moment she decided to capitulate. One second she was stiff. The next, she rose to her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his.
His entire body went hard, flashed hot. Every sense he possessed focused solely on her. The rest of the world fell away, and he was left with the best part of it.
He sank his hands in the silk of her hair and let himself kiss her the way he always hungered to. He devoured her. No matter how many times he had Elizabeth, he always wanted more. This need was what made his friends stop what they were doing anytime their wives walked in the room. This was true passion. It made him feel young and vital and alive, maybe for the first time in his life.
He skimmed his palms down Elizabeth’s curves, cursing the material between them, but he had to make do.
“Zack, if we’re going to do this we should go to your room,” she whispered.
“No time.” He wanted her too badly to stop.
“But there’s a tour coming through.”
“Then you’ll have to be very quiet, won’t you? I know how hard it is for you not to shout out my name during orgasm, but you’ll have to find a way to stay silent while I make you come.”
“Zack…”
He stifled whatever protest she might have made with a long, slow kiss. He tangled his tongue with hers. She kissed him back, her hands splayed across his back. If he hadn’t been wearing a suitcoat, he would have felt the drag of her nails on his skin.
When Elizabeth went wild, she didn’t hold back. The morning after they’d first made love, she’d been horrified that she’d marked him, but he’d spent the whole day reveling in the slight scratches her nails had left on his skin. Each little pain reminded him that he was the man who had driven her past her usual reason and decorum. No one else.
The closet they found themselves in now was really more of a small workroom, likely where they stored china that wasn’t on display. It had a nice, sturdy table that looked to be the perfect height. He picked her up, lifting her body against his. In two steps, he set her down right where he wanted her because he knew how to make her hot for him in quick order.
“What are you—”
“We’ve reached a particularly lovely section of the White House,” a feminine voice said, proving that door between them wasn’t soundproof.
Elizabeth gasped as he shoved her skirt up, wearing his most mischievous grin.
“Quiet,” he whispered against her lips. “You can’t make a sound—not a pant, not a whimper, not a moan—or they’re going to wonder what’s happening in here. Do you want to give those people a real backstage tour of what happens in the White House?”
“No.” She breathed out, and in the low light, he saw her eyes flare with heat.
Zack hooked his fingers under the sides of her lacy underwear. “Lift up for me.”
The woman leading the tour went on about Lincoln’s pattern, but Zack couldn’t care less what was happening outside this small room.
“I could tell them what the real secret gem of this place is.” He dropped to his knees and spread her legs. He could already smell her arousal, and it made his cock stiffen and ache. “There’s one thing that can make the president do anything. We should explore that. Have I mentioned how much I love these shoes?”
She was wearing purple stilettos today. They elongated her legs, and the sharp, pointed toes did something for him. He couldn’t explain why, but they were infinitely sexy.
“I’m glad you find me acceptable, Mr. President.”
He could barely hear her, but the words sent a thrill through him. “Going to play it that way, huh? Fine. You’re more than acceptable. You’re stunning. Do you have any idea what these fuck-me shoes do to me? Do you know how much I love to see you in nothing?”
“I don’t wear them for you. They’re for me. They make me feel strong.”
He needed to make something plain to her. Well, first he needed to kiss her knees and work his lips up her thighs because the spicy scent of her arousal was luring him exactly where he wanted to be. “You don’t need a pair of shoes to be strong. You’re incredibly smart and resilient, and you’re every bit as gorgeous as I dreamed you to be. Do you have any idea how many nights I spent lying awake and thinking about you like this? Fuck the nights. I spent the days that way, too. It’s very distracting to be in a meeting with the British prime minister and get a massive erection because you walked into the room. I don’t want to merely fantasize anymore. I want to have you whenever I want you. If I want you in the middle of a meeting, I should be able to get up, find the nearest private space, and lay you out. I wouldn’t let you up until I’m satisfied. Then maybe I’d be able to think straight for a little while. You ruin my concentration.”