The Marriage Agenda

by Sarah Ballance

  She wanted him desperately.

  All the more reason to save herself. “I guess we should go in.”

  He dropped his head to her shoulder. “I guess we should.”

  She leaned back against the seat, a little surprised to discover the windows were fogged up. That actually happened?

  “I want you to remember.” He tugged at his jacket to straighten it. “I chose you, Chloe. Not because I didn’t have a choice, but because you were the only woman I wanted.”

  Yep, lucky her. Why did he have to keep doing this? Though she hadn’t forgotten his be-kind-to-thy-wife speech, if she didn’t put some kind of distance between them she would drown in all those swarming emotions she could never own. Not with him. She swallowed. “Careful. You’re starting to sound like you like me or something. I believe we banned all emotional connections.”

  He looked at her for an awfully long time before he spoke—long enough that she started hoping for some great confession. I do love you. I just haven’t been able to admit it.

  It didn’t come.

  She had grossly underestimated her ability to maintain an emotional distance. On paper, it made sense that she should be able to keep her heart reeled in when she knew their relationship was just a business arrangement, but she could not look at him without believing there was more. Walking away might be a little harder than she expected.

  But did it matter? He didn’t want more. It didn’t matter if more existed or not.

  He hadn’t replied, and she wasn’t sure she wanted him to. To hear him deny anything between them while the air still sizzled from the electricity they created would have been painful.

  Suddenly desperate to be free from him, she reached for the door. He put a hand on her arm and stopped her. “Let me.”

  “I’m sorry. I forgot it was the chauffeur’s job.”

  “Not tonight. Wait for me. I want to do it.”

  He smiled gently and exited the car on his side, leaving her staring at the potted tree on the floor. It seemed to echo what he’d said about her, for there was no way in hell she could imagine him bringing a freaking bonsai bush to a tall blonde with enormous implants and a bank account to match. Her mouth twisted. The nameless bitch could probably walk in heels, too. Not a wobble.

  The door beside her opened, and even though she’d just had her tongue buried in Knox’s mouth, the sight of him standing there took her breath. He held his hand out for her, so she took it, rising as gracefully as a recently mauled woman could. He stood between her and the Wyndham Club while she adjusted her dress, smiling when she was stuck palming her own boobs to get her dress to lay right.

  “Your fault,” she said.

  “Guilty.” He took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers, and smiled as he turned and led her inside.

  Her breath caught. The stunning ballroom was overwhelmingly white, with high archways, sweeping floor-to-ceiling windows, and columns that looked as if they belonged in richly Southern antebellum-style architecture. The ornate décor—some of it astutely presidential in style—featured gilded accent pieces that shone brightly in the light of a thousand candles. The tables—each one drenched in layers and layers of white linens and topped with sparkling table service—had been set up around the dance floor.

  A nervous flutter hit her right in the stomach. She wasn’t much of a ballroom dancer. What she and Knox had done in the past was more of a vertical-foreplay kind of thing—moves she didn’t think would be appreciated by that particular crowd. Unlike at the charity dinner where they’d been a footnote, tonight, all eyes would be on them.

  Fortunately or otherwise, she didn’t have time to be nervous, for everyone seemed to descend on them at once. She caught sight of her parents and Lila together near one side of the room but quickly lost them as a crush of people pushed toward Knox. And her, in theory at least, but definitely Knox. For a moment, she was so completely overwhelmed she wanted to disappear through the floor, but then Knox started making introductions. Three United States senators. Cabinet members. The chief executive officers of two separate multi-million-dollar corporations. A billionaire friend of Knox’s from Yale. Knox’s campaign manager, Toby. And Katherine, of course, but no Rex.

  Interesting, she realized, that not one person had asked about him.

  Chloe waited until she and Knox were mostly alone before asking about the senator.

  “He hadn’t planned to attend,” Knox said, looking over her shoulder as he spoke. “He said he didn’t want to shift the attention away from us, but I think my mom told him the snub would draw more attention than the appearance. He’s supposed to stop by.”

  She wasn’t sure how thrilled she was about that. Rex was a powerful man, and based on his reputation alone, Chloe wasn’t a fan. He’d managed to turn his son against relationships—a fact that made her want to go after him with a salad fork—and his wife, Chloe noticed, had never even mentioned his name in her presence.

  Forty-five minutes into the schmoozing, she had yet to speak to her parents or her best friend. She had, however, seen enough twenty-something cleavage to last a lifetime. A few were daughters of the more distinguished guests, while a shocking percentage appeared to be there on the arms of much older men. “I don’t know how you deal with this,” she muttered under her breath.

  “Reprieve is on its way. Those are your parents with my mom, right? Let’s go say hello before we get swamped again.”

  She gave him a grateful smile as he took her hand and led the way. As best she could tell, her parents were somewhere between furious and really furious over her marriage, but she’d never know to look at them. They, along with Lila, stood in conversation with Katherine, and Chloe found herself exceedingly grateful Katherine would spend time with arguably the least of the many, many important guests. Once they’d passed the last potential obstacle—an older gentleman who clapped Knox on the back as they passed—Chloe went straight for her mom and gave her a long hug, then shared the same with her dad. “I would like for you to meet Knox Hamilton. Knox, these are my parents, Ava and Patrick Lochlan.” It was a little odd to introduce her parents to her husband—and doing so certainly didn’t bode well for their purported love story—so she did it quietly.

  Knox shook her father’s hand, then leaned over and whispered in her mother’s ear. Ava laughed and looked warmly at Knox.

  Well, that was great. She’d given Chloe hell on the phone, and here she was, falling all over Knox, like pretty much everyone else at the party. Chloe cleared her throat. “And this is my closest friend, Lila. Lila, Knox.”

  Knox smiled warmly. “Lila, it’s a pleasure.”

  She responded with a knowing grin. “I heard it’s been a great deal of pleasure.”

  “Lila!” Chloe’s face flamed hot. “You just said that in front of my parents.” Who were exchanging the kind of glances that made Chloe want to disappear.

  Lila rolled her eyes. “You’re married. Relax.”

  Knox cleared his throat. “Where’s Rex?”

  The edge to his voice—almost a wobble—offered more than a clue that Rex’s presence meant more than Knox let on. He may not agree with his father’s actions, but underneath it all, she suspected a part of him still wanted his approval. How would Knox feel if he knew Rex was her target? In that moment, Chloe wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.

  Katherine looked past them toward the door, then shifted her attention back to her son. “We’re here to celebrate the two of you, not talk about him.”

  Chloe’s heart ached. Everything she had ever heard about Knox’s mother appeared to be true—she had a warm smile and a way about her that made Chloe feel at ease. She couldn’t imagine maintaining such decorum in the face of such betrayal. Hell, she couldn’t imagine it now, as a newly appointed wife. Doing so after decades of a marriage purportedly built on love seemed unfathomable—even if Rex’s definition of love seemed a bit open to interpretation.

  In less than a minute, Knox had her parents engrossed in
a conversation about their Midwestern home.

  As soon as Knox and Chloe’s parents were occupied, Lila grabbed her arm and steered her away from the crowd. “He’s even more gorgeous in person than he is in pictures. I didn’t think that was possible.”

  Chloe followed Lila’s gaze to where Knox stood with her parents. All three were laughing. “You wouldn’t believe what that man is capable of,” Chloe murmured.

  Her friend could take that any way she wanted.

  “I have to give you credit,” Lila said. “You’ve always made it a priority to stay on top of what’s hot in Washington, but who knew you’d succeed so literally?”

  The effort not to elbow her was substantial. “That is my husband you’re staring at, you know.”

  “I guess I’m now the serially single one. Does your husband have any unattached friends?”

  Chloe welcomed the change of subject. She searched the crowd until she found the man she was looking for. “He’s single,” she said under her breath, “and a multi-millionaire. The tall one with the light brown hair..”

  “Is that how people introduce themselves around here? By their net worth?”

  “No. I did a little research ahead of time. I figured I had enough to worry about without needing to learn a hundred names in one night.”

  Lila’s gaze raked him from one end to the other. “Millionaire, huh?”

  “Several times over. He owns a tech firm.”

  “Well, something must be wrong with him, or he wouldn’t be single.”

  “Knox was single.” Too late, Chloe clamped shut her mouth. He had one terminal flaw—perhaps the worst one of all. Failure to love.

  “Yes, he was single. About a week ago.” Lila’s brow lifted. “And one day, I’m going to get the rest of that story out of you.”

  “Excuse me, you two,” Knox said, easing between them and saving Chloe from a response. “The choreographer lady wants us to find our seats.”

  Chloe looked up in surprise. She hadn’t noticed the migration toward the tables, one of which sat at the head of the room, a bit more elaborately decorated than the rest. Though she’d helped Katherine make the selections, Chloe hadn’t been prepared for the overwhelming presentation of it all.

  Lila snorted. “The choreographer?”

  “Whatever she’s called,” he said. “She wants us to find our seats.”

  “Let the games begin,” Chloe muttered, pasting on her brightest smile as Knox led her across the room. Aside from theirs, one seat at the head table was conspicuously empty.

  Rex Hamilton was a no-show.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chloe realized when it came to schmoozing, Knox had his limits. For example, not one time that night did he allow another man to cut in and dance with her. Once he got her back from her father after the father-daughter dance, he didn’t let go—not even for a visiting diplomat. After the fifth or sixth time his glare sent someone skulking off, Chloe called him on it.

  “Are you afraid I’ll embarrass you?” She could see that. She’d fallen into an easy routine in his arms, but any attempt at dancing with someone unfamiliar would likely have her in a heap on the floor, her two left feet inexorably tangled with her ruined effort at class.

  But no, he was smiling. Broadly. “Are you kidding me? Everyone loves you.”

  Sure they did. She’d managed to smile and nod and look interested at all the right times—or so she’d hoped—but most of the conversation was over her head. Few people had asked what she did for a living—the expectation clearly that her sole purpose was that of wife—but those who learned she’d been anointed the Washington Tribune’s home-and-garden diva had expressed equal parts surprise and interest. Unfortunately, she’d spent a lot more time memorizing guests than she had the local plant-hardiness zone, so she’d resorted to jokes when asked serious questions about her employ. That couldn’t have looked good, but it sure as hell beat the truth.

  “Not everyone,” Chloe corrected. “Senator Pierce’s daughters are trying to vaporize me as we speak, and the looks on the faces of that gaggle of girls surrounding them aren’t much better.”

  “How about a change of scenery then? I’m going to turn us in just a minute, after which you’ll see a woman wearing a bright red dress and lipstick to match. You can’t miss her. That’s Eleanor Byrd.”

  The woman with whom Rex had had his career-ending affair. “She’s married to Grant Hardy, the Secretary of the Interior?”

  “The one and only,” he said, maneuvering so she had the promised view. “He’s well-liked. Her, not so much…especially now.” He left the reason unsaid, but it was evident. The fact Grant Hardy was well-known was especially notable considering he held an office with which few members of the general public were greatly familiar. When presented with a beloved public figure and a cheating spouse, people tended to take sides. That in turn made it personal for them, even when it wasn’t.

  Eleanor’s affair with Rex had been a huge embarrassment for everyone involved—apparently even Rex, who was closing out the night as a no-show.

  “I can’t believe your mother invited her,” Chloe said of Eleanor.

  Knox shrugged. “Grant is a close family friend. She couldn’t very well leave him off the list, and naturally Eleanor is his plus one.”

  “What does she do for a living?”

  “She’s an environmental impact analyst.”

  Interesting. “So she would get a vote if, say, a controversial project threatened environmental interests?”

  “Yes. She’s not with the Environmental Protection Agency, though. It’s a private firm. Emerson Environmental, I think.”

  Emerson…Chloe had seen the name in Pactron’s file. It didn’t have to mean anything, but she found it curious Rex had a recreational affiliation with a woman whose company had aligned opposite his staunch political interests. From what she remembered, Pactron had been one of his few well-publicized failures. First Harold, then Eleanor.

  And the plot thickens.

  “Is Rex coming?”

  “Considering it’s almost midnight, I’d think not.”

  “Kind of a public snub, isn’t it?”

  “I’m not worried about that—he’ll spin it so he looks good—but it doesn’t bode well for his whole reformed-family-man resignation spiel.”

  “Is he backing you for office?”

  Knox’s step hitched, but he quickly recovered. Had it been her question, or was the timing a coincidence? “Of course.” He lowered his head—and his voice—and elaborated. “His favorite mantra is that I’ll never be the man he is, but in light of recent events, one can only hope he’s right.”

  The song ended before she could tell him his father was the worst kind of jackass. How could Knox’s father be anything less than proud of the man Knox had become?

  She’d never met Rex, although they’d been in the same place a number of times, but she already held an intense dislike for a man so obviously callous. She wished Knox was as detached as he tried to appear, but she could see from the tension in his jaw that that wasn’t the case. She hated to think he could ever feel less of a man because of his father. If anything, Knox was more of a man despite Rex’s influence.

  Though the music had ended, Knox still held her. So many important people in the room—people who really could change his life—and he had eyes for only her. She could lose herself in them. She already had more with him than most women experienced in a lifetime, but she still ached for what he refused to give her. Why can’t you be real?

  “You know what I want to do when I get you home?” His breath tickled her ear.

  The sensation shot straight to her belly. “If it involves a new addition to the conservatory, I don’t want to know.”

  “Wrong room,” he said.

  Her breath caught. She skipped the logical question for one less loaded. “What room did you have in mind?”

  “The bedroom,” he said. “If we make it that far.”

  …
>
  As much as Knox didn’t want to want to get his hands—and other parts—on Chloe, he could relish the wait if it meant watching the expression provoked by his words play across her face. Emotion transformed in kaleidoscope fashion, from shock to a hint of suspicion to something from which he might want to duck and run for cover, but she landed on desire.

  She wanted him, and she didn’t seem shy about letting him know it.

  Though Knox wasn’t sure Chloe believed it, he hadn’t doubted for a minute she could handle his crowd. The woman was amazing. She had to know every eye in the place was on her. His wife…she’d turn heads any day, but as a woman whose name and face were completely unfamiliar to nearly everyone there, the scrutiny had to be brutal.

  And she hadn’t missed a step.

  Granted, he’d kept her to himself as much as he could. That might have been the wrong thing to do, but it couldn’t have been any worse than throwing her into the arena without backup. Knox had grown up around those people—different names and faces over the years but much the same crowd. Not only was he used to them but they didn’t bat an eyelash over him. But Chloe…he couldn’t explain what it was about her. He wouldn’t call it innocence… Maybe it was just that she didn’t give a damn about what most people thought—a rarity in circles where the world seemed to revolve around peer opinion—or maybe she was just so comfortable in her own skin she didn’t worry enough to adopt pretenses. She didn’t have anything to prove to anyone, and that confidence—however it was born—shone.

  He had never, ever been so proud to have a woman on his arm. She was so natural—so gracious and funny and smart—that she had some of the most powerful men in Washington staring after her, doe-eyed. But she was his, and he wanted to make damn sure they all knew it.

  She hadn’t seemed to mind—hell, if her ability to play the part of his adoring wife was any indication as to her talent, the woman was Emmy-bound. She’d simply melded into him on the dance floor, probably not the least bit aware Knox had given the evil eye over her shoulder to any man who got too close.

  The night had been perfect…almost.