Smith, Faith V. - Presidential Heat [Vampire Government Protectors] (BookStrand Publishing Romance)

by Faith V. Smith

  * * * *

  Kira went for a twenty-mile run the next morning to clear her mind before returning for breakfast with the men. It was the only way she could stay sane at the thought of their proposed plan. The mere thought of having to marry Gareth, and then stay married to him for an undetermined amount of time, made her fangs hurt.

  Breakfast for the most part was a silent affair, and after a powwow about damage control, she went back to her room to nap, and then got up in time for dinner. Malachi refused to stand guard again. He said it was her job and to do it.

  Kira’s schedule remained the same, and each night she would walk the perimeters of Camp David until she saw the lights go out in the lodge. Only then would she ease back inside to spend a lonely night of playing solitaire or reading. Tonight was their last night at the camp. They would be heading back to the White House early in the morning.

  Kira finished her circuit of the grounds and then teleported to the roof of the lodge. Tomorrow would be a day she would always remember and wished she could forget. If she was lucky, Gareth would retire early, and she could pack up her gear and then settle down to play watch-vamp.

  Malachi said they would finalize what they would say to the press before leaving in Marine One. Just as well, she’d need a script to get her through the interrogation. Her mom had not been happy, either, with everything going on. Just thinking about the phone call she’d gotten the day after the news hit the press made her cringe.

  “Kira, this is your mom. We need to talk.” The irritating tone she expected from her mother was absent, something she wasn’t sure was a good thing or not.

  “Okay, Mom, spit it out. I know you have a lot to say.”

  “Honey, I do have a lot to say, but first, I love you.”

  Tears formed in Kira’s eyes and threatened to escape onto her cheeks. “I love you, too, Mom. I just don’t know how I ended up in this mess.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “What? Why would you ask me that?”

  “Because I talked to Malachi first.”

  “Well, hell!”

  “Kira, you know I hate when you curse.” Her mom’s tone took on a reproachful attitude.

  “I know, I’m sorry, but Malachi should keep his mouth shut.”

  “Malachi loves you, sweetie. He only wants what’s best for you.”

  Kira inhaled and exhaled rapidly. “Yeah, but marrying the president of the United States? Come on, Mom.”

  “But do you love him?”

  “What does that matter? I have to marry the man anyway.”

  “It matters a lot. If you love him, you can make things work.”

  “I wish it was that easy, but Gareth doesn’t want to get married any more than I do. Besides, it won’t be for…”

  Kira wasn’t sure if Malachi clued her Mom in on the fact it wasn’t going to be a real marriage or not. This would be a good time to just shut up.

  “Listen, Mom, I have to go. I love you, and I’ll look forward to your call next week.”

  Kira didn’t give her mother time to say good-bye. She slapped the phone shut and slid it back in her pocket.

  Remembering that conversation reminded Kira she’d only put off the inevitable. Sooner or later, she would have to talk to her mom about the upcoming farce of a wedding. At least she didn’t have to worry about another unplanned call from family until after their meeting with the press.

  The moon came out from behind a cloud, and Kira decided to take a look at Camp David from the air. The trip over in Marine One was a blur of sound and images. Memories and reflections of the crash prohibited her from seeing much of anything except the inside of the helicopter. Tonight, she could enjoy the view.

  Walking back several feet from the edge of the roof, she launched her body skyward. The breeze lifted her higher, and she welcomed the comforting caress of its kiss. It’d been ages since she’d utilized this particular skill, and she planned to enjoy every minute.

  * * * *

  Kira joined the men bright and early for breakfast. Her eyelids drooped with fatigue, and her body begged for sleep.

  “Morning Kira, I hope you’re hungry. I’ve got pancakes with strawberry syrup and bacon.”

  She didn’t have the heart to deflate Claude’s expectant and happy expression. She also didn’t have the heart for what was coming, but when there was no choice, you had to dig in.

  “Sure, why not? I’d love some breakfast and a big glass of juice, Claude.” Her response garnered a huge smile from the man holding the spatula and an upraised brow from Malachi.

  “What? A condemned woman can’t enjoy a hearty meal first?”

  Instead of complete disapproval, she got a laugh from her boss and Claude. Gareth looked like he had a stick stuck up his ass. Oh well, two out of three wasn’t bad. The morning might not be a total washout.

  “Glad to see you’ve regained your sense of humor, wife-to-be. Malachi says the wedding is in ten days.” Gareth’s tone positively bit with animosity, and the icy green glare he sent her way was worthy of a ten on a one-to-ten scale.

  “Well, I thought that was the program anyway. Aren’t we supposed to keep the press and public happy?” Kira quipped.

  Kira took the glass of OJ Claude handed her, took a sip, and then met Gareth’s stare with one of her own. “The way I see it, we’re going to be tied together for quite a while. I’ve made my peace over this farce of a marriage, and I suggest you do the same.”

  “Kira, you’re actually okay with this?” Malachi asked the question, but Gareth looked like he awaited her answer with bated breath.

  “Hell no, I’m not okay with this. You know, I thought marriage, if I ever married, would happen because I wanted it, not because I’m forced into it to satisfy a bloodthirsty press.” She followed her statement by taking a seat at the kitchen table.

  Claude placed a heaping plate of food in front of her. “Thank you.” She dug in without giving the other two men a second glance.

  “It seems we need to come to an agreement, children. Kira, I expect you to treat Gareth with the respect his office deserves. Gareth, I expect you to earn that respect.” Malachi cleared his throat before continuing. “We arrive back at Andrews around ten thirty. The press secretary has already called a conference. We’ll meet in the Rose Garden at noon.”

  “I guess there’s no way out of it, is there, Malachi?”

  “No, baby girl. Like I told your mama, the only way to stop the rumors is to address them. That’s what we’ll be doing. You won’t be alone. I’ll be right there with you and Gareth.”

  “Thanks. At least maybe the morning can’t get any worse.”

  “Oh, Kira, there is one other thing.”

  Kira inwardly cringed.

  “I need you to put on a dress for the conference. Wear something that makes you look a bit more fragile and not so…”

  “Agent-like? That’s what I am.”

  “Yes, but as far as the public knows, you’re going to be the next First Lady. You need to set the stage for this meeting.”

  Her face twisted into a grimace. The morning just got worse. She hated dresses.

  “Cheer up. You can change right after the conference.”

  “Fine, and just where am I going to get a dress?”

  Malachi’s mouth fell open, and one look at Gareth proved he was following the conversation with an avid interest.

  “Close your mouth, boss. It’s not like I needed one as a special op, or as an agent.”

  “Ahem, that’s true. Maybe we can get you something after we land.”

  “Whatever. And just so you know, I’m not paying for the dress. You are. And that means all the things that go under it. I’ll also need a pair of heels, some stockings, and a purse. Oh Lord, I can’t believe it, me toting a purse!”

  Gareth’s laugh spilled forth a second before Malachi’s, and even Claude joined in. Kira was glad they thought it was funny. She sure as heck didn’t. Just for that, she was going shopping at the m
ost expensive boutique in DC.

  Kira finished her food, stood, and prepared to hightail it out of the room. Men! No matter if they were vampires or mortals, you could put them all in a bag, shake them up, and they would all come out the same.

  “Kira, do you have a moment?” Gareth’s tone now contained no amusement. She could almost hear a pleading note in his question.

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Yes, but I wish you’d spare me just a few minutes before we have to leave.”

  “All right. I’m already packed, so I’ve got a few.”

  Kira tried to ignore the heat that caressed her when Gareth placed his palm on the small of her back to guide her into the main room of the lodge. He escorted her to the couch and then took a seat beside her.

  “Look, Kira, I don’t know how we got to this point, but I’m tired of fighting with you. I wish we could reach some type of compromise. If we can’t, this entire thing is going to blow up in our faces.”

  Kira fiddled with the fringe on the crocheted cover on the couch. “Let me get this straight. With all that’s happened in less than a week, you’re truly worried about the press?”

  “Yes, but not for the reason you think. I need the press on my side. There are some important bills coming up for vote in the next legislature session. I need all the help I can get to have them passed. They’re important to our security, health care, and retirement. If the press sniffs out a lie on my part, they’ll unload all their guns against anything I stand for.”

  Kira understood where Gareth was coming from. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to act the part for something that could help the country.

  “Fine, I’ll be good. Just try to keep the conference short. And for pity’s sake, do not let them ask me any questions.”

  “Thanks, I’ll do my best to keep them off your back.”

  “Great, I appreciate that.”

  * * * *

  Gareth stood in the private quarters and wished he could drain the decanter of brandy dry. Kira was late. They needed to be in the Rose Garden in less than ten minutes. Both he and Malachi had warned her it was important to be punctual.

  “Settle down, Gareth, she’ll be here.”

  “But on time?”

  “Yes, Kira’s always been a punctual person. Just give her another minute or two and stop driving me crazy.”

  “Sorry, Malachi. I guess I’m more nervous than I thought.”

  “Why don’t you sit down for a minute?”

  Gareth sat opposite Malachi in one of the deep-seated chairs. He drummed his fingers on the armrest.

  “I told you to relax. She’ll be here any—”

  “If you don’t get out of my way, I’m going to hurt you.”

  “Miss, you can’t go into the private quarters. No unauthorized persons allowed.”

  “What? Did you just get hired? I’m a Secret Service agent.”

  Gareth’s mouth dropped open, as did Malachi’s. Neither one of them moved a muscle.

  “So, if you’re an agent, where’s your badge?” The young man’s voice sounded strident in his quest for an authoritative tone, and a bit smirky.

  “Look, I’m trying to be reasonable here. You must be the agent taking John’s place. I don’t have my badge on me, but if you call Malachi King, you know, our boss, he’ll vouch for me.”

  “I don’t know about that. I’ve heard Mr. King can get awfully riled when disturbed.”

  Gareth glanced at Malachi, who at first frowned and then bit his lip. The twinkle in his eyes told Gareth he was about to laugh. Laughter was something he was having a hard time holding in also.

  “Oh, pleeeease. Now move, before I turn you into a pretzel.” Kira’s voice was getting higher with each word she almost shouted.

  Malachi looked pained. He probably didn’t want Kira taking out his newest recruit. It might actually be worth watching if Gareth wasn’t tied up in knots about the press announcement.

  Thud! The door to the PQ hit the interior wall and then closed with a softer click. Hopefully, the press wouldn’t hear about Kira’s actions. A moment later, he forgot all about the press as Kira, dressed like he’d never seen, stalked into the room.

  Gareth didn’t have to look at Malachi to know his mouth had fallen open again. He knew his had, right along with a tongue that felt glued to the recesses of his mouth. God above, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get a word out now. He’d swallowed all his spit.

  “Why are you two sitting there? We have five minutes to get to the Rose Garden.”

  Entranced and more sexually aroused than he’d ever been in his life, Gareth watched Kira pace back and forth. She looked like sin on a pair of stilettos. The black dress she wore was sleeveless, showing the delineation of trim muscles in her arms and emphasizing the fragile circumference of her wrists. The thin black belt highlighted a slender waist, and the skirt, riding just above her knees, showed a length of leg that was impressive considering the woman barely came to the middle of his chest. Although with the four-inch heels she was wearing, her lips just might meet his without him having to break his back to bend over. The little bag thingy she was carrying looked more like a weapon than a purse, but Gareth valued his life too much to say anything about it.

  “Uh, right, we need to get going.” Malachi pushed himself up from the chair and looked at Gareth, who had no idea what to say to him.

  “Yeah, we should go, but Kira there’s something I need to give you before we do. As my fiancée, the press is going to expect to see a ring. I’d love it if you wore my mother’s. Judith never liked it, wouldn’t wear it, and said it looked old-fashioned.”

  As he watched, what looked like stress, anxiety, and anger seemed to drain right out of Kira. She moved toward him and then stopped. “I think that’ll be good. I like antiques.”

  Gareth took the ring box out of his inside jacket pocket, popped it open, and held it out for Kira. Her eyes went wide, and a slight smile tugged on lips coated with a deep peachy color.

  She took the ring out, but instead of sliding it on her finger, she held it out to Gareth. Lord, had she changed her mind?

  “Would you put the ring on my finger? This might be make-believe, but…”

  “Of course.” Gareth did as Kira asked, and the two-carat solitaire emerald gleamed as if it were made especially for her.

  “Okay, I think we’re ready to go now.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kira stood next to Gareth at the podium, with dark-rimmed sunglasses on her face. Her toes pinched inside her shoes, her fangs hurt from smiling, shouted questions, photos etc., and they were all giving her a headache.

  They had been under fire since they walked into the garden. The press sharks didn’t even give Gareth time to say anything in the way of a greeting before they launched their attack. It had only gotten worse. The feeding frenzy, led by Ryan Simmons and the jerk from the newspaper, Andrew something or other, got ugly.

  “Mr. President, you’ve done a remarkable job in stating what Agent Jackson did to help during the crash. But why not quit sidestepping and tell us the truth about your relationship with your agent?”

  She applauded Gareth’s control. Only she and Malachi saw his clenched fists behind the podium. His command over his anger was admirable.

  “Ryan, I believe you’ve already asked your quota of questions, but I’m feeling a bit triumphant today, so I’ll answer this last question from you. After I do, then I’ll be taking questions from the rest of the press corps and media who have been patient in allowing you to play front man.

  “My relationship to Agent Jackson is really no one’s business. However, I’d like to put to rest any rumors that may have made their rounds. I’d also like to address the consequences of slandering someone’s reputation for no reason other than gossip.

  “The American people deserve to know the agent you are maligning is innocent of any wrongdoing. The agent has been nothing but professional in discharging her duties as a Secret Service agent.”
>
  Kira let her breath out as Gareth paused. The media vultures were as silent as an empty coffin. She would never have believed it if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes. Instead of making excuses and offering apologies, Gareth had the entire circus hanging on to his every word.

  “Now, having said that, my status as a widower is going to change. Agent Jackson, or Kira, as I call her, has graciously consented to becoming my wife. In essence, she’ll be this country’s First Lady, an office she’ll excel at, I have no doubt. Now, having said all that, just a small suggestion. Those here who can’t treat my future wife with the dignity she deserves will be banned from any further press conferences.”

  Kira clamped her fangs together to keep her mouth from flying open. Not only had the man drawn blood, he’d gone for the jugular. She could almost kiss him, she was so proud.

  “Mr. President?” The query came from a young man standing in the front row about twenty feet from the podium. Kira noted he had remained silent when all the questions were being tossed out.

  “Yes, Mr.…I’m sorry, I normally know all of our media’s names, but I don’t recall seeing you at a conference before.”

  The freckle-face, sandy-haired, and lanky reporter grinned. His white teeth beamed out a warmth missing from the proceedings so far.

  “That’s okay, sir. My name is Arthur Harrison, Mr. President. This is my first press conference here in Washington. I’m here for my hometown paper. I just wanted to ask if Agent Jackson would be willing to answer a question for me.”

  Kira’s heart did a slow slide toward her feet. Sure, the innocent-looking man could be as nice as he looked, but what if he was waiting to nail her coffin shut? She so hated being in the spotlight. And she was so grateful Gareth had promised to keep them from badgering her. Now, she would just wait on him to tell the guy no.

  “Well, Arthur, I’m sure that my bride-to-be will be most happy to answer one question from you.”

  If looks could kill, Gareth would be a pile of ash. She looked at Malachi, but a quick shake of his head, and Kira knew he’d be no help at all. The weasel ass!