“I’m wounded, Miss Kendall!” Michael laughed.
“Oh come on, you were asking for that,” Ashley giggled, taking another bite of her meal.
“Fair enough,” Michael conceded good-naturedly. (Something else Ashley was discovering that she liked about him was how could laugh at himself, and not take himself too seriously.) “We will need a proper reason though,” he said thoughtfully, after letting her eat in silence for a couple of minutes.
“I can come up with a proper reason!” Ashley laughed. Michael looked wary and doubtful, which made her laugh harder. “Really!” she promised, and began to give the matter some serious consideration. “I think…” she said slowly. “I think I’ll say the first thing that attracted me to you was your passion...”
“Oh?” Michael grinned. “I like the sound of that,” he chuckled.
“Not that kind of passion!” Ashley hurried to correct him, cursing the flush that spread across her cheeks when she started to wonder how his incredible passion for his work and helping people might transfer to the bedroom. She took a large sip of wine to cool her down, but it had just the opposite effect.
“Well I hope I equip myself adequately in that area of our relationship too,” Michael teased wickedly. “What kind of lover am I, Ashley?” he purred, after a moment’s pause. “Do I please you in bed?”
“I can’t imagine why we would need to prepare a story about… that!” she chocked, feeling more flustered by the second.
“Perverse curiosity?” Michael grinned. Ashley glared at him. “Come on, you can’t blame a man for asking!”
“I most certainly can!”
“But now I’m intrigued. I want to know what turns you on…”
“Michael!” Ashley scolded him, certain that he was making fun of her… she didn’t even want to consider the possibility that he wasn’t playing around… did she? “Finish your steak,” she sniffed, hating how school-marmish she sounded, but she was starting to realize that a woman needed serious defenses when she was around Michael Reese and he was in this kind of mood!
“All right, all right, I’ll be good,” he sighed, as if he was doing her a favor. Ashley stared at him, waiting for the penny to drop. “I’ll just have to use my own imagination if you won’t tell me,” he added, eyes twinkling devilishly.
The rest of dinner past in much the same way- with playful teasing banter from Michael that Ashley was determined to keep up with! She was rather glad that she had a bottle of wine to fortify her. Michael didn’t drink very much, so she consumed at least three quarters of the bottle on her own.
“How well can you hold your drink?” Michael asked, just after he’d asked the waiter for the bill. He frowned and picked up the wine bottle, gave it a little shake and saw that it was completely empty.
“Perfectly well!” Ashley cried, not quite sure whether or not she had just been insulted. “Why?” she demanded suspiciously.
Michael shrugged his shoulders. “It seems like the kind of thing your boyfriend should know,” he smiled. “Hrm, am I your boyfriend or your fiancé?” he asked thoughtfully.
Ashley groaned. “Haven’t we talked about this enough for one night?” she sighed, finishing off the last of her glass. Michael was prevented from answering by the return of the waiter with the bill.
Once he had paid, he and Ashley got to their feet. “If you’re only my girlfriend that will save me the cost of an engagement ring,” he teased.
Ashley would have liked to come back at him with some sort of sassy answer, but she was using all of her powers of concentration just to stay on her feet at the moment. Perhaps the wine had gone to her head a little more than she’d realized? She was rather glad to have Michael’s steadying arm around her waist at any rate… Ashley gave a little start. When had Michael put his arm around her waist?
“You looked a little wobbly,” he grinned, as if he had read her mind. He thanked the maitre d’, who handed him Ashley’s coat, expressed his gratitude that Michael had chosen their restaurant to dine in and hoped that he would have the pleasure of serving them again.
“Thank you for dinner,” Ashley murmured, as she allowed herself to lean into Michael’s a body a little more. She looped an arm around his waist to help with her balance, and was pleasantly surprised by the hard physique she was able to feel. “You were in the army, weren’t you?” she blurted, her mouth running away with her before her brain had time to engage.
Michael stared down at her curiously. “I was a Lieutenant Colonel, yes,” he said slowly.
It looked like he was trying to work out what had prompted that question, as Ashley didn’t want to confess that it had anything to do with the powerful, toned body that she could feel rippling beside her, she asked, “What was it like? What did you do?”
“Well… I was a Field Commander for a tank brigade in the First Gulf War-” he stopped speaking however when they stepped outside and were met by a couple of reporters.
Michael didn’t stop to wish them more than a polite good evening. One of his bodyguards appeared from out of nowhere and hurried both him and Ashley into a waiting, unmarked car.
He didn’t look terribly pleased when they were settled inside on the leather seats. “I wonder who tipped them off,” he mused, frowning.
“You mean you didn’t?” Ashley asked doubtfully.
“No, of course not!” Michael growled. “One of the restaurateurs must have tipped off the papers.”
Ashley licked her lips and pushed a strand of loose hair behind her ear, trying very hard to make her disorientated mind focus. “But I thought you wanted people to know that we’re- well-” she waved her hand around “-I mean we’re not really, but you want to them to think that we’re- um- a couple?”
“Yes, but not-” Michael ground to a halt and dragged a hand through his head. He scowled out of the window for a moment, but when he turned back to look at Ashley his expression was neutral. “Well, it might not do any damage,” he said calmly. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”
Ashley rubbed a hand over her forehead. “I don’t understand why it would do any damage anyway?” she murmured, struggling to get her head around what had happened and why Michael was upset. He gave her knee a friendly pat.
“Well it might not,” he murmured again.
Ashley didn’t have the energy to try and work out what Michael kept hinting at, if he couldn’t tell her then she would just have to figure things out tomorrow when the world had stopped spinning.
The rest of the drive went by in silence. Ashley sobered up a little bit, and had come to a horrifying conclusion. Was Michael worried that the photographers had snapped her looking… well, rather less than sober? She cringed and sank down further into her seat.
It was true that Michael had had his picture taken in one or two compromising positions before… but never with a woman who he had plans on forming a long term relationship with… not that she was such a woman in reality, but he did want the country to believe their little fantasy.
“Michael?” Ashley whispered, but when he turned to look her, she was too embarrassed to continue her question and ask him if this was indeed what was the matter. “I- um… thank you again for dinner,” she muttered, blushing.
“It was my pleasure,” he grinned, although his grin was half curious, as though he could sense that she hadn’t said exactly what she meant. “I think this is your stop,” he murmured, looking out of the window again as the car rolled to a stop.
“Oh yes- I-”
“Let me walk you to the door,” Michael said, opening the car door and offering her his hand.
“Thank you,” she said shyly, walking with him up the path. When they reached the front door Ashley glanced down at her feet nervously. “Did you want to come inside?” she heard herself ask, before she had fully thought through the implications of her offer.
“I don’t know how that would play out in the heartland.”
“Oh! I didn’t mean-” Ashley blurted, but befo
re she could say another word Michael’s lips had captured her mouth, sealing inside the rest of her protest.
She swayed in his arms, strong arms that had looped around her body and were crushing her against his chest. They were the only things keeping her legs from buckling, as he moved his mouth over her skin, gently rubbing their lips together before licked her with his tongue.
Ashley shivered in Michael’s arms and opened to him, slowly melting in his embrace as the slick, determined muscle of his tongue learned the intimate contours of her mouth. She couldn’t breathe when he pulled away.
“Now that they’ll like,” he rasped hoarsely.
4
‘The kiss’ caused Ashley no end of trouble once Michael had left. It was all she could think about as she shrugged off her clothes and crawled into bed. Her head still felt slightly fuzzy from the wine and her brain had jammed on a permanent loop- repeating the moment when Michael bent down and claimed her lips over and over and over again in her head.
Ashley cuddled her pillow and her toes curled against the crisp sheets. Maybe it was down to the alcohol and an over active imagination, but she was sure that had been one of the best kisses of her life.
Her dreams played along the same line as her memory… only her dreams didn’t stop at the front door! Michael followed her inside kissing her, touching her, caressing her… Ashley tried to lead him upstairs to the bedroom, but he was too impatient to walk that far and took her against the wall in the entrance hall- tearing at her clothes, ripping away her underwear and then sinking into her flesh…
Ashley woke with a start, slightly disorientated and very unsatisfied. Ashley was just about to snuggle back into her blankets when her eyes focused on the clock on her bedside table. She emitted a shriek.
She was late! She had slept through her alarm!
“Oh my God! Oh God!” she gasped jumping out of bed so quickly that she almost fell onto the floor.
Given that she was meant to be at work already she didn’t have time for a shower. She rushed into the bathroom anyhow though, because she did really need to clean her teeth though. It tasted like something had crawled into her mouth and died on her tongue… and why was that anyway?
“Oh dear…” she squeaked, as the evening’s event came flooding back to her. She raised a distracted hand to her mouth and glanced at herself in the bathroom mirror. “What were you thinking?” she demanded of her reflection.
Ashley didn’t have time to stand around and debate the wisdom of kissing her boss with herself. If Michael was still her boss- if she wasn’t about to be fired for missing the morning staff meeting. What was he going to think of her, she wondered gloomily.
Once she had cleaned up, she dressed in the severest suit that she owned, donned her glasses (unfortunately she couldn’t do very much about her hair, which was loose and curly and refused to be clipped back), snatched up her purse and prepared to leave the house. Ashley was relieved not to see any reporters hovering outside. She almost wondered if she had dreamt the whole thing up… she had expected one or two paparazzi at least…
However, any doubts she might have had about the reality of the night before vanished when she got into her car turned on the radio…
“…was seen dining with his speech writer, a Miss Ashley Kendall.” Ashley gasped and almost swerved into her mailbox. “Popular Reese could be our first playboy President, with two failed marriages behind him, and a string of brief relationships with glamorous women, is his speech writer really going to be the woman to catch his heart?”
Ashley frowned, as she drove out onto the main road. Precisely what was so wrong and unglamorous about being a speech writer? Why shouldn’t Michael fall in love with her? His ‘playboy lifestyle’, as the media liked to dub it, was completely over exaggerated. She listened with a little more satisfaction as the co-host of the radio show fought her corner.
“Oh I don’t know, obviously none of his previous women have been able to keep Mr. Reese’s interest, perhaps he’ll appreciate a woman who can hold up her side of a conversation?”
“Thank you,” Ashley sniffed.
“Well, I don’t know about appreciating a woman who can hold up her side of a ‘conversation’, but if today’s papers are anything to go by then the lady in question can certainly hold up her side of a kiss…”
“A… what?” Ashley squeaked. She almost ran into the car in front of her. Oh no… there hadn’t been any photographers hanging around when Michael- when he kissed her! Had there?
Ashley turned off the radio. It was doing nothing for her nerves! There were pictures of Michael kissing her in all of the morning papers? Ashley ran a hand over her forehead, unsurprised to find that she had a headache coming on. Was this good or bad news? Michael had obviously wanted people to find out about them… but maybe not like this?
Worrying about it really wasn’t helping her at all though, so Ashley determined to put it out of her mind… and go back to worrying about whether or not she still had a job!
There were reporters waiting for her when she reached the offices where she worked. They shouted such a jumble of questions at her that Ashley honestly couldn’t decipher one from another. She smiled as undauntedly as she could manage, and was almost immediately rescued by a couple of burly security guards who got her safely inside.
It was once she was inside and away from the reporters that the snide little comments started…
“Late night, Ashley?”
“Putting in some overtime were you?”
“Were you hoping to work from home today?”
Ashley pretended not to hear them. She held her head high until she reached her office- and the she shut herself inside.
“Why did I agree to this?” she sighed, walking over to her desk to see if she had any aspirin in the drawers.
Well, she had got one very nice kiss out of the deal… she couldn’t help but remember that, and smiled as she touched her fingers to her lips. Of course, she didn’t know if Michael was angry with her now, but she decided not to go looking for trouble. She sat down at her desk and prepared to start work.
Ashley had been a very industrious little bee for at least a couple of hours, when there was a knock at her office door.
“Come in?” she called, not looking up from her computer screen until she had finished typing the sentence she was working on. When she did look up, she gasped. “Oh! I didn’t realize it was you!”
“Why? Would that have made a difference?” Michael grinned. He had shut the door behind him, and now that he had Ashley’s attention, he walked over to her desk. “I missed you at the staff meeting toady.”
Ashley flushed. “Yes, I’m sorry I- um- well, I sort of slept through my alarm. I’m so sorry I-”
“So you were in bed?” Michael chuckled, eyes glittering devilishly.
Ashley’s blush deepened, which made Michael’s smile widen. He supposed that he should rap her over the knuckles for missing the staff meeting that morning, but in all honesty he had been half expecting it. He had dropped her off rather late the night before, and she had still be rather drunk… even if Ashley had made it into work on time he hadn’t been sure that she wouldn’t try to avoid him after their kiss.
Ashley cleared her throat. “Well, as I said, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” she assured him, speaking in her most no-nonsense voice.
“You’re wearing your glasses again,” Michael murmured, leaning against the edge of Ashley’s desk. She glared at him through the lenses.
“I’m at work!” she snapped.
“I have to say that I like what you’ve done with your hair though,” he grinned, reaching for a long strand and winding it around in his finger.
“Michael!” Ashley gasped breathlessly, but she slapped his hands away. “Can you please stop behaving so…strangely?” she begged, which caused Michael to burst out laughing.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and composed himself. He stood up and straightened his suit. “I just came t
o let you know that the papers this morning hadn’t jeopardized the plan at all.”
“Did you think they were going to?” Ashley asked nervously.
“I thought someone might had overheard us as dinner,” he nodded seriously. “It probably wasn’t incredibly wise of us to have some of those discussions in such a public arena.”
“That’s what you were worried about?”
Michael frowned. “Of course, what else would I have been worried about?” he demanded, but Ashley shrugged her shoulders and smiled up at him disarmingly. “Oh, there was one other thing that I had to tell you,” he added, before he forgot.
“What’s that?”
“A few people from the press want to interview you. Norm and I have already decided on the newspapers that you’re allowed to speak to,” he informed her, glancing at his watch. “He should be along in a minute to prep you. I’m afraid I have to run.”
The Perfect Candidate Page 3