by Nina Croft
He’d never been inside the White House, though Torr had regular meetings here. Stormlord Securities had several government contracts.
There was a formal dinner first, and they would have to sit through that before he could confront the senator. Finn placed his hand on Rachel’s waist, unable to resist, as a footman led them to their table. This time she didn’t jump or pull away; in fact, she moved closer to him and, suddenly, he was sorry they were in this busy place. He wanted to be somewhere alone with her.
Later.
He waited until she was seated and then took the chair beside her. The table was set for eight, and the other chairs were already filled. The people upper-class and middle-aged. He didn’t recognize anyone. He nodded but didn’t introduce himself. This wasn’t his sort of place, or his sort of people, or his sort of setting. He preferred action to politics. He always had. And he preferred open spaces to cities.
The president entered with his wife and the visiting dignitary; Finn still had no clue who the dignitary was. Asian, but other than that he had no idea. They all stood.
“Is that the president?” Rachel whispered.
He nodded.
As they sat again, he shifted his chair a little closer to her. “How are you doing?”
She smiled. “I’m fine. It’s fascinating. I’ve never seen so many sparkly things.”
“I should have gotten you some diamonds.”
She shook her head. “I don’t need diamonds.”
She was right; she shone with an inner beauty. He could sense people watching her, unable to look away, and he felt a snarl forming in his throat.
Mine.
And again, he wished he could whisk her away somewhere they could be alone. He owed her that kiss he’d promised.
The first course came, and he ate, but had no clue what he was eating. He glanced around the room, searching for the senator, and found him at a table two away from where they were seated.
Rachel was chatting with the man on her other side. He listened in; she was telling him about Haven. The man had a vaguely bemused expression on his face. She was so natural in a room full of artifice.
The woman on his other side spoke to him, and he forced his attention away from Rachel and turned to her.
“Sorry?” He managed to make small talk but was relieved when the meal was over. Rachel ate all six courses, occasionally turning to him to ask what she was eating.
“Is he here?” Rachel asked.
“Yes.”
She picked up her glass and drained it. “Let’s go talk to him.”
They wove their way among the crowd. He kept the senator in sight and approached him from behind, studying him. He was thin and upright, his dark hair flecked with gray that was more distinguished than aging. Finn had become friends with Michael Danvers over the years and had heard a lot about the senator. He was ambitious. The last years, the senator had been pushing Michael forward, investing in his son’s career rather than his own. And with considerable success; it had been anticipated that Michael would have been the Republican candidate in the presidential elections next time around. If he had lived. His death must have been a double blow, an end to the senator’s hopes of a dynasty and his political aspirations. Jacob must have seemed like a godsend.
Michael hadn’t loved his father—Finn suspected that he’d given up on the idea of love when his first wife had walked out on him, taking their daughter with her. And he also suspected Michael sub-consciously resented his father and blamed him for his wife leaving. But while Michael had loved his wife, he’d also wanted his life in Washington, the power, and the money. He certainly would never have moved to Haven. Some people just weren’t meant to be together, he’d told Finn. They’d been too different.
He’d never spoken of his wife’s death.
Had he suspected that his father was somehow complicit?
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the couple who’d been talking to the senator walk away, leaving the man momentarily alone. “Let’s do this,” he said, and Rachel nodded, though something flickered in her eyes.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I have so little family,” she murmured. “I don’t like to think of him as bad. But I’ve always known there was something not right about him. I suspect he’s one of the reasons—probably the main reason—why my mother took me away from here.”
“We can’t choose our families.” Except he had.
“I know. I just wish things were different.”
He rested his hand on the small of her back, needing the contact, and they circled around and came up in front of the senator. He looked up as they halted, his brows drawing together in a frown as though trying to place Finn and not succeeding.
“Senator.” He nodded to the other man.
The senator turned his attention to Rachel. He looked at her, but it was the look of a man admiring a beautiful woman—and Finn had to fight the urge to punch the old bastard on the nose.
“Grandfather,” Rachel said, and his eyes widened.
Then narrowed as he studied her closely. Finn saw the moment he recognized her. “Rachel. You look a little…different than at our last meeting. I told you that you would fit into my world.”
“And I told you I had no intention of doing so.”
He examined her, head cocked to one side. “You never liked me, did you? I remember when you were little more than a baby. You would scream every time I came anywhere near you.”
She gritted her teeth and her eyes flashed. “You took my son. How dare you?”
His eyes narrowed. “And you took him back. How did you do that? A woman with no money and no connections. And yet somehow you managed to break into my house, disable my guards, and take back your precious son.” He turned to look at Finn. “Are you going to introduce me to your…friend?”
“I’m Finn Stanton. You might have heard of my company, Stormlord Securities.”
Something flickered in his eyes at the name. Good, he’d heard of them, one less thing to explain.
“Ah. My son employed you to find Rachel’s mother when she left him. My son is now dead, as I’m sure you’ve heard. And your employment is terminated. I looked you up, and you have a reputation for efficiency and ruthlessness. I assure you Rachel inherited nothing from her father. She has no money to pay you with. I suggest you rethink your allegiances. I could put a lot of business your way.”
“I don’t believe my allegiance is for sale. But thanks for the offer.”
“You get involved in my business and you pay the consequences.” The senator’s tone turned cold, all pretense at friendliness vanished. “Return the boy to me. His mother as well. I’m sure I can persuade her to see things my way.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ll make sure your company is finished.”
Finn smiled as he pulled out a paper from his pocket and handed it over to the senator.
He looked down at it, his fingers tightening on the report as he read the words. “Where did you get this information?”
“That doesn’t matter. Just be aware that if you ever go near Rachel, or her son, again, this information will be made public.”
A flush darkened the man’s skin. Finn could almost see him trying to control the rage that flashed in his eyes. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
“Actually, I know exactly who I’m dealing with.” Finn stepped closer. “I also know something of your latest business partner. And let me just give you some advice. Back away from her now. She does not have your best interests at heart.” He turned to Rachel. “Let’s go.”
As they walked away, he could feel the senator’s gaze on his back. He didn’t turn.
“Do you think it will be enough?” Rachel asked.
“Yes. He’ll try and convince himself he can do something. He’s not the sort of man who’s used to losing. But in the end, he’ll see sense because he knows if he doesn’t, he’s finished. We have enough on him to not onl
y end his political career, but to put him in prison for the rest of his life.”
“What was on the paper?” she asked.
“Information on how he was funding your father’s campaign. Let’s just say that most of his methods were not legal.”
“It’s wrong that he has so much power.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll take him down. Make sure he never has any say in anything that matters again.”
She blew out her breath. “Thank you. Now, can we go home?”
Chapter 16
Tonight had been beyond anything Rachel had ever experienced in her life. It had been fascinating, seeing all the important people, the beautiful women with their fancy dresses and jewels. But she was glad to be away from there.
She’d gotten a lot of bad feelings from a lot of people. Perhaps good people didn’t go into politics. Which was sad. These were the individuals leading the world, making decisions that affected millions.
They’d both been silent on the drive back, Finn seeming a little preoccupied. He’d taken her hand almost absently, as though it was a natural thing to do, threading his fingers through hers, resting both their hands on his thigh. His touch sent a feeling of peace and safety through her. As though nothing bad could touch her while she was with him.
It was late, almost midnight, when the car pulled up outside the building. She wasn’t used to late nights. At Haven they often went to bed with the sun and rose with the sun. But despite the late hour, she felt wide awake, alert. She cast Finn a sideways glance. He looked so handsome and distinguished in the black tuxedo. And, although he’d been dressed the same as the other guests, he’d stood out among the crowd. There was something that held him apart. A sense of age and power, despite his youthful appearance.
“How old are you?” she asked as they got into the elevator and the doors slid closed.
He frowned and looked down at her. “Old enough.”
Very cryptic. “Is that something else you can’t tell me?” The list was adding up. What was he hiding? And why?
“I’ll tell you everything soon. I promise. Just give me a couple of days to sort a few things out, and then no more secrets. For now, trust me. I’ll never knowingly do anything to harm you or Jacob. And I’ll do everything in my power to prevent anyone else from hurting you.”
Could she trust him? The strange thing was, she already did. She’d trusted him all those times when she’d seen him in the forest. As a wolf. When she should have run screaming.
She nodded slowly. “I trust you.”
He didn’t ask, just led the way to the apartment where Phoebe was staying as though he knew she would need to see Jacob. He tapped lightly on the door, and a few seconds later Cade opened it and gestured for them to enter.
Phoebe was on the sofa but got up when she saw them.
“How did it go?” Cade asked.
“I don’t think the senator will be a problem from now on.”
“Good. One less thing to worry about.”
She wondered what the other things were, but decided they probably came under the heading of things Finn would tell her soon, but not now. Tomorrow she would worry about it. Tonight was time-out.
She followed Phoebe out of the sitting room to the room where Jacob was sleeping. Phoebe opened the bedroom door, and Rachel peered inside. The light was dim, but she could make out Jacob curled up in the bed. He was deep asleep, his wolf wrapped in his arms.
“You should leave him here for the night,” Phoebe whispered. “He’s not going to wake now and moving him will only disturb him. Come and get him in the morning.”
Part of her wanted to wake him, to keep him close. But another part whispered to leave him sleeping.
She tiptoed across the room, bent down, and kissed him on the forehead. He didn’t stir. Did she want him to? If she woke him, took him back to her room, would he stop her doing something she might regret?
No. The answer came immediately.
Whatever happened, and she hoped something would, she wouldn’t regret it. It might be wrong by Haven’s rules, the rules she had grown up obeying. But she had never really believed in them. She had followed them because she didn’t care enough to break them.
Now she cared.
Now she wanted something that went against everything she had been brought up to believe. And she couldn’t and wouldn’t think it wrong.
She gave Jacob one last look—he was safe, thanks to Finn—and backed out of the room. “Thank you,” she said. “I won’t wake him.”
Phoebe smiled as she closed the door. “I think you’re making the right decision.”
Why did she think Phoebe was referring to something other than not waking her son? When they went back to the sitting room, Finn and Cade were talking quietly. They glanced across as she entered.
“He’s fast asleep,” she said. “I decided to leave him.”
Finn searched her face and then nodded.
They took the stairs up one flight to the apartment where she was staying. They didn’t touch, but she was totally aware of his tall figure next to her. By the time they reached her door, she felt about to explode. She was so new to this. Maybe he didn’t want her after all. Maybe it was a figment of her imagination. Apparently, widows could be delusional. Or so the Elders had told her. Another reason why she should marry again. But she couldn’t imagine marrying any other man. Couldn’t imagine kissing, touching, lying with another man.
Only this one. She just hoped that words wouldn’t be necessary, because she had no clue what to say, and she might die from embarrassment if she had to try and articulate how she felt at that moment.
Her hand shook as she reached out to open the door, and he took it in his and lowered it gently to her side.
“Rachel?”
She stared up into his face. It looked like she was going to have to speak after all. Was he going to say goodnight and leave her at the door? But she didn’t think so. Not from the heat in his eyes. “Yes?”
“Do you want me?”
She swallowed, then nodded, and the heat flared hotter. She realized that he’d been in no way sure of her, and it made her feel a little better about her own fears. They were in this together.
“Then I am yours,” he said. “Forever, if you want me. But for this night only if that’s all you can give.”
He cupped her face with his big hands, lowered his head, and kissed her. As his lips touched hers, she was filled with a chill of déjà vu. As though she had stood like this before. At a crossroads. And the direction she’d chosen had changed her life. And that of those around her.
This decision would change her forever. Irrevocably. Once she had given herself to this man, there would be no turning back. But she wouldn’t back down now. Couldn’t. She wanted this more than she had ever wanted anything.
Finn pushed open the door and she followed him in, stood just inside the room, unsure of what to do, how to do it.
With Joseph, she’d made love in the darkness of their bedroom, fumbling beneath their clothes. She had an idea there would be no fumbling with Finn.
She looked up and found him watching her, a smile on his face. As though he, too, had given up his worries for the night.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do,” he said as he shrugged out of the black jacket and tossed it on the back of the chair.
She gave a helpless lift of her shoulders. “The problem is, I don’t know what I want you to do.”
“You’ve been married. You have a son.”
“This is different.” At least she hoped it was different. Some inner sense told her that making love could be so much more. She needed it to be more. If she was going to break the rules she had been brought up by, she wanted it to mean something.
“We’ll take it slow; just tell me if I do anything you don’t like.”
“What if you do something I do like?”
He grinned, looking suddenly younger. “Tell me that as well. Just don’t ever be sca
red of me.” As he spoke, he pulled the tie free and tossed it next to his jacket, opened the top button of his shirt, then ran his hand through his short hair. “Why don’t you sit down?” He waved at the couch. “I’ll get us a drink.”
She’d thought he would take her straight to bed. But now he was in here with her, he seemed to have relaxed, slowed things down. She wasn’t sure she wanted things slow. She wanted him to kiss her again. Kiss her so she forgot all her fears and doubts.
But she did as she was told and sank down onto the couch, kicked off her sandals, and curled her legs under her. He came back with the bottle of champagne and two long-stemmed glasses. After setting them on the coffee table in front of her, he opened the bottle, the cork making a crack as he pulled it free. She jumped at the sound. A reminder of that afternoon when someone had shot at her. She’d almost managed to forget. Now she added it to her list of things to think about tomorrow.
He poured the wine, handed her a glass, and sat down beside her.
“Drink,” he said.
The word stirred something in her mind.
She raised the glass to her lips. The liquid was sharp, icy cold, and delicious. She emptied the glass, and he poured her another while his remained untouched on the table. He reached behind her and released her hair from the combs that held it in place and threaded his fingers through the long strands. Tingles ran through her, and she shivered, though the room was warm.
As he stroked the pad of his thumb over her lower lip, her mouth parted. He moved on, his hand caressing the curve of her shoulder, along her arm, and everywhere he touched, heat flared to life, shooting along her nerves, settling in her belly. She swallowed the last of her wine, and he took the glass from her limp fingers and placed it on the table. He kept hold of her hand, his fingers stroking the sensitive skin of her palm, and the last lingering doubts dispersed.