by Shayla Black
He ground his hips against her thigh, letting her feel just how hard his cock was.
Two minutes before that was all she’d wanted from him. She’d wanted to end the evening with him buried deep inside her, but now she realized his entire come-on had been bullshit. He wanted to give her just enough to persuade her away from another man. The old I-don’t-want-you-but-no-one-else-can-have-you crap. And why? Because he needed to be in control? Or something deeper?
Tears threatened. She felt exposed, raw. Everyone believed she was a strong, independent woman. And she was…but not when it came to Roman Calder. He made her feel young and dumb and heedless again, so hopeful that if she gave him enough of herself, he would love her back.
Ridiculous.
“I call that something you likely get when there’s a stiff breeze in the room. Get off me.” She gave him another shove.
His expression changed as though he’d realized her rebuff wasn’t some coy ploy to heighten his anticipation and amp up the sex. “What are you talking about? I told you how it’s been for me. Augustine, why are you so angry?”
He knew the answer. “I’m going to scream if you don’t get off me right this second. Don’t think I won’t. We all know how much you don’t want to get caught fucking the office slut, so you should move quickly or this scandal will go front page.”
He practically leapt off her. “I never said that. Never fucking once, and I have a real problem with you calling yourself that. Did someone else say it? Because I’ll take off his fucking head.”
Gus had to hand it to Roman. He was so damn good she almost believed his indignant reply. Maybe he’d missed his calling and should have been an actor, instead of the White House chief of staff.
She rose quickly, shoving her skirt down and pulling the bodice of her dress up until she was covered. Yet somehow, standing in front of Roman, she still felt undressed. “You’ve got better things to do with your time than try to defend my honor, especially when you’ve always thought mine was questionable.”
He shoved a hand through his hair, pacing like a caged lion. “What’s wrong? Come on. Tonight does not have to end like this. It shouldn’t.”
“You ended this the minute you thought you could exchange sex for a ‘favor.’ Maybe you’ve decided sex is a good way to control me, but you’re wrong. I won’t let you, Roman. No matter how good you feel. I learned my lesson with you a long time ago. All I could ever get out of you is a good time in bed. You’re not built for anything else. And now the price is too high.”
“Is it so hard for you to understand that I would be jealous about you with another guy? Do you have to have us all on your string? How many men do you need at once? That was all I was asking for. As long as you’re in my bed, you’re only with me.”
“And I suppose you’ll be breaking off your date with Darcy tomorrow night?”
“That’s not the same.”
She laughed. “Of course. When you see someone else, it’s all for your job. When I do, it’s cheating. Your moral relativism is showing, Roman.” She’d worked with him for a few years now, and only when she’d shown interest in Matthew Kemp had he decided to crawl back between her legs. If she didn’t know Roman and Zack and the rest of the Perfect Gentlemen were keeping secrets, she might have been fooled. But she did. He was trying to keep her from investigating whatever the hell was going on.
What did Roman know about Mad’s death? She didn’t want to believe for an instant that he could have something to do with it, but why else would he insist that she leave another man alone? He might claim jealousy, but it seemed thin and convenient. He only seemed to care who she might be fucking when she showed interest in the very man who’d been at the airport the day of Mad’s death. Gus doubted that was a coincidence.
He took a deep breath and anchored himself in front of her, then reached out as though he meant to take her by the shoulders. When she jerked away from him, he stepped back. “Damn it, Gus. Is that what you want? I’ll call Darcy, end the whole thing. Hell, Zack basically told me to do it.”
She gave him what she hoped was a chilly smile. “I wouldn’t dream of interfering in your social life, Roman. After all, you have a job to do.”
And so did she. It was time she remembered that. The evening had gotten her closer to Matthew Kemp. They’d had a couple of drinks, shared some flirtation. Tomorrow, she would find a way into his room. Then she would damn sure discover whatever he might know about the reason Mad was killed. No forbidden, middle-of-the-night thrill with the best lover she’d ever had was going to derail her from solving Mad’s murder.
Because a thrill was all Roman would ever give her. He would take her so high she’d swear she was floating on clouds and singing with the angels. But the minute the sex ended, he’d let her crash back to earth and she would end up in the dirt, feeling battered and bruised and forgotten.
“Please. I don’t want to fight. I should have chosen my words more carefully,” Roman began. “Sit with me. Let’s talk. Nothing but talk, I swear. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
But now she knew his game. It would not work again. Talking would lead right back to his hands all over her and him trying to manipulate her to get what he wanted, which wasn’t really sex. It was her willing silence.
“Goodnight, Roman. Have fun on your date.” She grabbed her purse and turned to go.
He reached out, gripped her elbow, and for a second she was falling down those stairs again. Her knees knocked against the wood and jarred her entire body. Her world had gone off-kilter and tumbled. Ended.
She couldn’t forget how she’d lost her baby.
Gus whirled around without thinking. One minute she was walking out the door and the next she was thrashing against Roman. Fighting. Hitting. “Don’t touch me!”
He caught her in his arms. “Baby? Baby, what’s wrong? You’re crying. Oh, my god. Please tell me why you’re crying.”
“Let her go, Roman.”
She went completely still at the sound of Connor’s voice. What had happened? She didn’t cry. She especially didn’t let anyone see her tears. Yet she could feel them now running down her cheeks.
“Let her go.” Connor stepped into the room.
Roman released her, dropping his arms to his sides with a curse. He’d gone stark white as he turned to answer Connor. “I wasn’t trying to hurt her.”
The former CIA operative’s voice went low. “I’m sorry but I was walking back to my room and you two didn’t close the door. I thought I should make sure no one walked in. Gus, let me walk you back to your room. Roman, go to bed. Don’t make me assign someone to guard her door.”
“What the hell do you think I would do to her?” Roman gaped, then turned her way. “Baby, I’m sorry. I screwed everything up. Please, just talk to me. Tell me what happened, because a moment ago you weren’t here with me. You were somewhere else bad.”
Yes, she’d gone back to that night. She’d thought she was over the hurt and pain of her loss, but tonight had proven that Roman could bring it all back. Without another word, she turned and walked out, trying to pull familiar numbness over her heart like a blanket. Hopefully by tomorrow she’d have her defenses shored up and emotions under control again.
She knew Connor was following her, but it didn’t matter. She managed to nod his way when she made it to her room.
“Gus, whatever happened in there, he didn’t mean to hurt you,” Connor said.
Yes, she’d heard that over and over again. “He never does, I’m sure.”
Connor put a hand on the wall, as though he was too tired to entirely hold himself up. “Do you want me to beat him up for you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Sure. You do that.”
“Gus, Dax isn’t here. If he hurt you, I’ll deal with him. He might be one of my best friends, but you are the closest thing I have to a sister. Don’t think I’ll let him take advantage of you.”
Clearly, she hadn’t managed numb yet, because all the feelings she
tried to quiet screamed just under the surface, scraped her raw. Damn it, she was not going to cry again. “I’m fine, Connor.”
“Do you want to talk? Because it really did look like you mentally disappeared somewhere else. Do you know what PTSD is?”
“Of course. I’m fine. It was a momentary thing. I honestly thought I was over the past. I guess Roman brings out the worst in me. Thank you for being there. I promise I’m going to stay away from him. You won’t have to save me again.”
“If you need me for anything, all you have to do is call.” Connor reached up and wiped his thumb over her cheek, brushing away the tears she hadn’t known were falling again. “I know you used to talk to Mad, but he’s gone. So if you need someone, you can open up to me. I’ll be on your side,” he vowed. “Goodnight, Gus.”
“I’m fine, but thanks. Goodnight.”
She said the words, but when the door closed, she couldn’t hold back another torrent of scalding tears a second longer.
CHAPTER SIX
The following evening, Gus felt stronger as she sat across from Liz in the office they’d taken over. It was in the east wing of the house, far from the temporary offices Zack and Roman worked from. Gus was certain Darcy Hildebrandt had something to do with that, but this evening she couldn’t say she wasn’t grateful.
She’d slept fitfully and managed to avoid the boys all day. She’d had one text from Roman asking if he could come down and talk to her. She’d replied that she needed some time and he’d relented.
Perhaps what she needed was more space. Lots of it. Maybe she should consider finding another job and moving on. But not until she’d accomplished her goal.
“Is there anything else I can get for you, Ms. Spencer?”
She looked up from her laptop. Vanessa Jones was one of the admins in the press office. She’d worked her way through the campaign’s ranks and become a press office right hand. Liz relied on her implicitly, and when they traveled, she offered to assist Gus as well. Luckily for Vanessa, Gus preferred to do most of her own work.
And many of the items on her list for this trip were far too private to entrust to anyone else.
“I think I have everything, thank you.” She looked up at the clock. It was far later than she’d suspected. The afternoon had flown by as she’d answered e-mail and approved press releases. Work was good for the soul. “Did everything go all right with the paparazzi?”
Vanessa frowned. “Do you mean did they get lots of pictures of the president and the stick he’s dating? Yes.”
“That stick is one of the world’s most photographed models,” Gus corrected with a grin. It was good to know Vanessa was sticking to the girls’ side. “And she has to be that thin. The camera really does add a bunch of pounds. She’s quite lovely in photos.”
Vanessa wrinkled her nose. “She’s like a scarecrow in person. Don’t get me wrong. I like a slender girl when it’s natural. I don’t get the world today. I wear a size two and I get called fat. They can keep it coming. I’m not giving up pizza night.”
Vanessa was a lovely young woman, vibrant and still full of hope. She made Gus feel old sometimes. “Don’t you dare. You’re gorgeous.”
Vanessa smiled, showing perfect white teeth. “Thank you. I need that sometimes. None of the boys around here want to play with me. Or the girls. Makes me sad. You’re all far too involved in each other. You know it’s like watching a foreign-language soap opera. I get it…but I don’t quite understand.”
“What have you heard?” Gus knew that tone of voice. Vanessa was fishing.
She leaned against the desk. “The rumor is the president told the Secret Service to stop you and Liz from leaving the grounds. Why would he do that?”
Because something was going on that she did not understand, and she had to guess it all came back to Mad. She’d been turning the situation over in her head all morning. It was far easier to think about the mystery of Mad’s death than to remember the terrible drama of last night.
What if Mad had known something? Something bad. Something Zack had felt the need to cover up at all costs. Or what if Mad had gotten into the sort of trouble that had gotten him killed, and Zack was hell bent on protecting the rest of them? But then why the hell wouldn’t he simply tell Liz that he was trying to save her from an eminent threat? She would comply with reasonable requests.
But Zack was a man. And men believed they were noble saviors. Really, they could be so stupid.
The possibilities kept chasing each other around in her head. The truth was, she would only solve this conundrum if she figured out what had happened to Mad.
“I’m not sure. I guess the president knows something we don’t. He’s still getting intelligence briefings,” she replied. There was no reason to bring anyone but Liz in on her sleuthing. Except maybe Zack. Damn but she wanted to demand he answer her questions. Of course if she did and Zack had done something wrong, she could find herself in a concrete bunker ten feet underground in Gitmo. Going up against the most powerful man in the world had its risks.
“Still, it’s odd since the president’s schedule hasn’t changed at all. Just Liz’s.”
Oh, Gus was sure she would be stopped if she tried to leave, too. But tonight, that might be helpful…
“Anyway, here’s the itinerary Liz asked for.” Vanessa handed her a folder. “Did she meet a guy last night? I heard you two went out with some Secret Service hotties. Come on, Gus. Give a girl a heads-up when we’re going to party.”
Oh, but it hadn’t been a party. It had been a very careful laying of groundwork to get close to someone she needed to steal from. She hadn’t gotten hold of Matthew Kemp’s phone and she wasn’t certain that would even be possible at this point. He had probably been warned away from her. And he was a super-careful man.
Then again, a potential assassin would have to be.
“I promise the next time we’re allowed off the leash, I’ll send you an invite.” The door eased open and Liz slipped in, wearing a black Chanel suit and sky-high Louboutins. “Speak of the devil. Vanessa says our fun evening out is already making the gossip rounds.”
Luckily, the way the evening had ended wasn’t. Gus likely had Connor Sparks to thank for that small blessing.
Liz gave Vanessa a smile that didn’t reach her baby blues. “It was fun, but now we’re in full lockdown mode. I’ll be surprised if I leave this house until we go home, so everyone settle in for the week. I sent you both a briefing on what the president and prime minister are scheduled to discuss on Wednesday. I’m up to date on ninety percent of this stuff, but I need some information on the situation with Russia and the gas pipelines. Apparently we’re talking to the PM about the possibility of designing a way to bring American natural gas to Europe and circumventing Russia. I know next to nothing about the topic. Please get me the details before the press starts asking questions.”
“I’ll talk to some friends in Energy. They can send you tons of super-boring reports.” Vanessa breezed to the doorway. “I’m heading out. I’ve got tickets to a show in the West End. Maybe I can find a hot Brit to spend some time with. Bye, you two.”
“Sounds like everyone’s going to the theater.” Liz glanced up at the television on the left wall. Twenty-four-hour cable news flashed on the screen, sound muted.
There was Zack, looking perfect in a tuxedo as he stepped out of a limo. He waved to the reporters as he took the hand of the stunningly gorgeous Mimi. Yes, she was thin, but there was no denying how beautiful she was. Roman walked behind Zack and Mimi, his hand on Darcy’s back as he escorted her. Roman looked grim, but he nodded down at something she said.
Gus stared at the blonde, the woman he wasn’t embarrassed to be seen with. The woman he likely wouldn’t finger fuck on a couch in an attempt to control. No, Gus was sure the extraordinarily uptight Ms. Hildebrandt would be offered the comfort of a bed when Roman fucked her. It would be oh so polite. There would be no shouting or fighting, only gentle moaning—maybe. They would be conside
rate.
How was your orgasm, my dear?
Perfect, darling. Please pass the tea. I require refreshment after that strenuous episode of sexual congress.
“You have a super-evil look on your face. Are you thinking about murdering someone?” Liz asked the question with pure curiosity. “Because I want in. I’ve got some aggression to work through.”
“No, I was thinking about how well Roman and Ms. Hildebrandt seem to get along.” She slanted an acidic smile Liz’s way. “And I’m wondering a tiny bit how hard it would be to replace the lube in his condoms with icy hot. I think I can make that work.”
“Oh, I want in on that, too.” Liz sank into the chair in front of Gus’s desk and stared at Zack, who stood beside his date wearing a wide smile. “They look good together.”
“Nope. She looks way too young for him.” That was the truth. Mimi was nearly twenty years younger than Zack. She also had vacant eyes. “I read an article about her recently. The interviewer asked her what her favorite political cause was. She said Jackie O because she dressed so beautifully. Yep. That’s your potential First Lady right there.”
Liz groaned as she picked up the remote and clicked the monitor off. “I think I’ll stay away from the news for a few hours. I got some of the information you requested. It looks like Matthew’s next break is the day after tomorrow. He’s requested permission to do some sightseeing. But I also did a little digging and discovered that he rented a car.”
“Why rent a car in London?” It was one of the easiest cities in the world to get around. The London Tube was famously accessible to even newbie travelers.
“Maybe because he’s leaving London for the day,” Liz mused. “The question is, where is he going? You didn’t come close to swiping his phone last night, did you?”
The whole evening had been frustrating. Worse, not accomplishing her goal had actually been the least irritating event of the night. “No, and I’m starting to wonder if I’ll be able to dupe it at all. He never let it out of his sight and I’m not even going to pretend I’m skilled enough to lift it out of his pocket. I think I’d have better luck trying to follow him when he leaves London.”