Gareth leaned forward, Malachi cleared his throat, loudly, and Kira jumped out of her daydream. How stupid could she be? They had to get out of here.
* * * *
Less than an hour later, they were airborne again. Gareth showered in his new quarters and changed clothes. Kira ducked into the lavatory, waved her hand, and bim-bang-boom, she was clean again, and clothed in her favorite garb. Only this time, she opted for a long-sleeved black top with her black leather pants.
Malachi sequestered himself with Gareth in his office, which meant Kira could relax for a bit. It had almost taken an act of Congress to convince the president she did not need medical attention, and then he had to make the rounds of all the military brass at McConnell before they could board the plane to finish their flight to California. Luckily, the troops arriving back on U.S. soil had been delayed due to rerouting for a thunderstorm. If all went well, they would be at Camp Pendleton in plenty of time to welcome them home.
Kira decided to head for the galley. Breakfast seemed like a long time ago, and just maybe Claude had a late lunch ready for the passengers and crew.
“Hi, Agent Kira, you doing okay?” The chef’s gaze held a bit of concern within its brown depths.
“I’m fine, Claude. Just hungry. I don’t suppose you have—”
“For you, anything you want. I heard how you got Gareth and John off the plane. You were amazing. So anything your little heart or stomach wants, I’ll fix.”
Kira actually giggled. “You are now at the head of my most awesome friends list. I would love to have just a sandwich. That’ll do me until tonight.”
Claude’s anticipatory expression fell at her words.
“I mean, if that’s okay with you. Or anything you want to fix will be fine with me.”
She found herself pushed down into one of the galley’s chairs, a glass of iced tea in front of her, and then a plate with a piece of Key lime pie slid to a halt within hand’s reach. A knife and napkin appeared immediately beside it, and Kira looked up to see a smiling Claude.
“You start with this while I grill you a steak with all the trimmings.”
“Thank you, Claude, but how did you know I liked Key lime pie?”
Claude stopped marinating a steak the size of Texas. “Well, I could say Malachi told me, but truthfully, Kira, I’m a fang-toting, proud-to-be a part of the VGP.”
Kira bit down so hard on the pie she’d shoveled in her mouth, she almost broke one of her fangs on the fork. Shock radiated all the way to her toes. How had she not known?
“Claude! Why didn’t I know?”
“I’m sure you would have figured it out, but Malachi wanted to keep it on the down-low. Gareth has no idea, but I wonder about that. Malachi told me about the bomb he dropped on y’all the night you got hired on as an agent.”
Kira took a sip of tea. “Yeah, that was a bit of a revelation. No way did Malachi see that one coming, and I thought my boss knew everything.”
“Talking about me, are you, my dear?” Malachi’s wicked tone did nothing to help the bite of pie she had just swallowed to go down. She waited a moment before looking up at her boss and Gareth, who now stood in the galley.
“Strictly compliments, I assure you, Malachi. Now leave our lovely Kira alone so she can eat.” Claude moved back to the counter, took the steak from its container, and tossed it on the now hot grill. “I’m fixing our heroine a steak. If you gentlemen want one, you better be nice.”
* * * *
Kira’s laughter caressed Gareth’s ears.
God above, it was a miracle she was alive. The truth, it could have only been a divine intervention that all on board had escaped with only cuts and bruises—bar John’s probable concussion. It could have ended tragically. The thought that anyone could have died was abhorrent to Gareth, but the thought of losing Kira scared the hell out of him. How he’d fallen so quick and hard for a woman he barely knew, a woman who housed a host of secrets inside her seductively beautiful exterior, he didn’t know.
One thing he did know, he didn’t want Kira putting herself in danger again—not for him, and not for anyone. He would have a hard chat with Malachi about removing her as his agent. Maybe give her a nice out of harm’s way desk job. The moment that thought occurred, Gareth discarded it.
Kira would never go along with that idea. If he had her bounced from the Secret Service, no telling what she would do next. He’d read her service record. It was impressive and downright frightening. The woman had been in places and performed duties for her country’s sake that would cause men with a decades of war experience to shudder.
No, his Kira would never agree to being a desk jockey. The only thing he could do would be try to limit her time away from the White House. She should be safe there. For now, he’d have to suck it up and keep his thoughts to himself.
“Gareth? Gareth?” Malachi’s voice broke into those self-same thoughts.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“Claude wanted to know if you wanted a steak.” The head of the Secret Service’s tone dripped with amusement.
“Yes. Make mine medium, Claude, if you would.” Gareth leaned closer to Malachi. “And what is so funny, my friend?”
“It’ll never work.”
“What won’t?”
“Trying to get Kira to step down, stay safe, whatever.”
“How did you know…I forgot, you have talents that come with those fangs.”
Malachi chuckled. “It doesn’t take a vampire to know what you were thinking. I read it on your face at the crash site. I just hope no one else did.” He slung an arm over Gareth’s shoulders. “Just don’t hurt her, Gareth. I’ve been like a godfather to Kira since she came into the world. I would not be happy if you break her heart.”
“Believe me, it’s the last thing I want to do.”
* * * *
The rest of the trip was uneventful, thank God. They arrived in plenty of time to greet the returning troops, and the ride back to Andrews Air Force Base was a quiet one so far. The press, for the most part, opted to discontinue their trip back at McConnell Air Force Base in Kansas, except for a couple of die-hard never-give-uppers. Ryan, the television anchor, was one of the ones who decided to continue.
Gareth took a turn around the plane to relieve some of the stiffness in his abused body. It beat all he’d ever seen. Kira, a mere handful soaking wet, knee-high to a grasshopper, acted as if she’d taken a walk on the South Lawn. He must be getting old. At one time, he would have been able to haul ass with a man on his shoulder, too.
“Mr. President, if I could have a moment of your time.”
Ryan interrupted his train of thought. Just as well, it was more than a bit depressing.
“Sure, what can I do for you?”
“Well, first off, I wanted to see if you were really okay. Yeah, I know you have to say yes, but truly, how are you?”
Gareth had always tolerated Ryan. His television station in the heart of DC had played a major role in covering the election. The spotlight on Gareth had been a plus to get his views across to the American public.
“Truly, I’m all right. I think, at the moment, you could say I’m relieved no one was seriously hurt, the incident is over, and we need to move on.”
“Do you mind if I quote you on that, sir?”
“No, go ahead. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Well, I was wondering. This is really the first time we, the press, have actually seen Agent Jackson. I think that was her name. Can you tell me anything about her? She is really going to be a heroine in the public’s point of view. I’d like to—”
“Get a jump on your competition?”
“Yeah, you know how it is.” Ryan’s tan features held a bit of a hangdog expression.
“I can imagine, but there’s not a lot to say about Agent Jackson. She was hired a short time ago and has an impressive military record.”
“I understand she is your night guard. Doesn’t that make for a bi
t of speculation? I mean, a hot babe like her guarding a president who is single.”
Gareth clenched his fists to keep from knocking the shit out of Ryan. The man was digging, and to hit him would just make him want to find any type of dirt he could on him and Kira.
“Actually, I rarely see Agent Jackson. She makes specific rounds, but her duties, except for checking in before I retire, are limited to guarding the perimeter of the private quarters and the outside of the White House.”
“Well, there are some who would question the fact she’s there at all in the nighttime hours. Would you care to give me a quote about your relationship with her?”
“Quote, unquote, Agent Jackson is one of the best in the business. We have no relationship other than employer and employee. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to check in with Malachi King.”
His strides, as he almost stalked away from Ryan, were tense, just like his entire body. The anchorman needed a lesson in manners. Of course, he knew this wouldn’t happen. Still, hopefully, he had cut Ryan off at the knees. Kira did not need her name in the limelight or her reputation in tatters.
“Gareth?”
He looked up to see Malachi approaching. “What is it, Malachi?”
“Commander Bartlett says we’ll be landing in just a few minutes. You need to buckle in.”
“Where’s Kira?” His question sounded raspy. He hadn’t seen her since their late lunch in the galley. She’d taken him up on his offer to stretch out in the presidential suite. Of course, the woman was so stubborn, Malachi had to pull rank to get her to agree to the idea. Now, he found himself missing her. Even several hours after the crash, his insides still felt like a jackhammer when he thought about what could have happened.
“Kira’s up and already buckled in, buddy. It’s you who is running behind. I’m surprised you didn’t hear Bartlett’s announcement.”
“I got into a conversation with Ryan Simmons about Kira.”
“Why in the hell did he want to know about Kira?” Malachi’s question came out as a snarl.
“He said he just wanted some background info. But then he went on to ask me how I felt about having a woman as an agent at night. Said she had a hot bod. I’m beginning to not like the guy.”
“As of this moment, neither do I. Just say the word, and I’ll tear his head off.”
Gareth grinned. Malachi meant that literally.
“I palmed him off with her military record, so I’m hoping that’s the end of it.”
“Let’s hope so.”
* * * *
Glass shattered against the fireplace marble. Whiskey droplets fanned the almost dead flames into a riotous mixture of orange and red. Hayes had escaped the revenge he’d spent months planning. Revenge long past due. And although he couldn’t blame this second missed hit on anyone but himself, it still rankled. Gareth Do-Gooder Hayes, never a step out of place had triumphed once again.
He poured more than a generous dollop of whiskey into a glass to replace what his anger had destroyed. The liquor burned a path down his throat but didn’t burn away the hate eating at his insides. Next time, he would not fail in his quest for revenge. Gareth Hayes would die.
Chapter Eleven
Kira sniffed the air outside the main lodge at Camp David. The scent of pine and flowering shrubs filled her nostrils with the fresh fragrance of nature. It was awesome. No smog, no car fumes, no underlying smell of thousands of people; she loved it.. The spring weather since they’d arrived the evening before had been gorgeous. The president planned to spend the entire week at the retreat, and they would return to Washington late Sunday night. That gave her almost six days to enjoy the bounty of nature.
After another loop around one of the walking trails, she turned to head back to the main lodge. A slight rustling sound came from behind her. Kira pivoted, dropped into a slightly bent-knee stance with her arms up and her hands poised in an attack mode. She barely pulled her punch back in time when Malachi sauntered into the open glade.
“Malachi, that’s a good way to get your butt kicked.”
His laughter soothed her anxiety about whether or not Gareth’s retreat was being breached, but his smirk afterward made her wish she’d decked him anyway.
“Down, kitten, I’ve got fangs and claws older than you are.”
She accepted the arm he threw over her shoulders as a silent apology. “Well, make sure next time you announce your arrival.” Kira shot him a grin that belied her warning. “What’s up, is there any news about John?”
“Yes, he’s going to be out for a bit, but will recover.” Malachi looked as relieved as Kira felt. “Now, what about some dinner?”
“Great, I’m starved. After going to bed early last night—by the way, thanks for taking my watch—and then missing breakfast this morning, I’m more than ready for some food.”
“Thought you might be. Gareth talked Claude into staying with us, after you went to bed. He told him you wouldn’t eat unless he cooked.”
Kira laughed. “Dirty pool, but I don’t care. Lead me to the grub.”
“Race you!” Malachi took off like a bullet out of a gun.
Kira swallowed her giggles and hit the path running. A few moments later, they both arrived back at the lodge and sat on the steps, though neither one of them was out of breath.
“I’ve got to hand it to you, kiddo. You’re fast becoming unbeatable when it comes to speed.”
“Thanks, I had a good teacher.”
The tips of Malachi’s ears turned just a tinge of red. But before she could tease him about blushing, Gareth stepped out onto the wide front porch.
“Claude said for you two to get in here or he’s going on strike.”
Kira jumped to her feet and held a hand out for Malachi. “You want a lift up, old man?”
The fangs he shot in her direction caused another avalanche of laughter from her, as well as the president.
“Enough, you two, let’s eat.” Malachi didn’t snarl, but he didn’t wait around for Kira to tease him again.
“I missed you.”
Gareth’s words were like a balm to her heart. She hated missing her shift last night, hated missing time she could have spent talking to him, but she’d been almost comatose by the time they’d landed and then helicoptered over to Camp David. Blessedly, Gareth had put down her extreme fatigue to the day’s events. As much as she hated him to think she was a weak female, it was better that he not ever find out she was a vampire.
She turned back to meet his green gaze. “I missed you, too. I never got to tell you how scared I was when I thought you might die.” Kira couldn’t believe those words popped out of her mouth. “I mean, the country would be devastated if something happened to you.”
“Kira, don’t…”
“Don’t what?”
“Lie to me or yourself. We both know we’re feeling things that have nothing to do with this country.”
“Maybe so, Gareth, but because you’re who you are, we can’t act like we care about each other at all. We’re not even allowed the time to see if we actually do care.”
“I know, I know. I just don’t know what to do about it at the moment. Yesterday’s crash put you in the public’s eye, not to mention taking ten years off my life. The press are already asking questions about what you are to me. I don’t want to give them any fuel to ignite a flame that won’t burn out without repercussions.”
“I know. I’m just not sure I can—”
“Kira, you can’t quit. I won’t allow it. I’m not sure I could survive the next three years in office without at least seeing you.”
“I feel the same way, but it would be—”
Chapter Twelve
“Son of a bit—”
Malachi’s cutoff shout jerked Kira away from her forward momentum toward Gareth’s open arms and broad chest. Both she and Gareth fast-walked into the lodge.
Malachi stood in front of the flat-screen television. His facial features were drawn into a grimace. He glan
ced their way and tried to pull himself together.
“And there we have it, America. Gareth Hayes, who became a widower before he took office, has an agent named Kira who could be on the cover of Playboy, she’s so hot. I ask you, what does that say about his squeaky clean image now? Andrew Carter signing off for Down and Dirty Secrets Of Those In The Public’s Eye.”
Malachi clicked the off button so hard, the remote control exploded into bits and pieces of plastic and metal.
Kira stood rooted to the carpet, her body a frozen ice-cube of disbelief and horror. How on God’s green earth had they come up with that garbage? What would it do to Gareth’s image? What about yours? Kira decided to ignore that small voice. She just couldn’t deal with what it might mean for her.
Shaking off her paralysis, she opened her mouth to ask just how they got that info, but Gareth beat her to it.
“How in the hell did they come up with that? The only one I talked to was Ryan, and I made it perfectly clear Kira was my agent—nothing more.”
“I don’t know, but I’ll be finding out.”
“Can’t we do something? Stop them, put a gag order on the publishers?”
“No, honey, it’s not that simple. Freedom of speech, remember?” Malachi clenched his hands into fists.
“And if we try to shut them up, it makes us look guilty, Kira.” Gareth’s tone was solemn, but she couldn’t mistake the anger flashing in his green eyes.
“So, again, what do we do?”
“We wait. This Andrew guy isn’t known for telling the truth. His followers are mostly people who like to read scandal mags. Hopefully, the real newspapers will forgo malicious gossip.”
Claude stuck his head out from the dining room. “Come on, eat. It’ll help you think better.”
Kira started for the dining room, Gareth and Malachi just a step or two behind her. Food, which had sounded so tantalizing a few moments before, was now just a means of restocking her body. She needed the fuel, and although her shift didn’t start for several hours, she planned on finding out what she could about the explosion on board AF1. In all the melee since it had happened, her long nap, and now this media crap, she had not talked to Malachi about what they had found.
Smith, Faith V. - Presidential Heat [Vampire Government Protectors] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 7