Chapter
Seven
“Are you all right?”
They said it together, but Lauren answered first. “I’m fine, just a sore tailbone.” Between dodging cars and falling on slippery sidewalks, that part of her body was getting quite the workout. He hadn’t moved, and she laid her hand on his head, lying still beside her. “You’re injured,” she said, her voice wavering.
“No, I’m fine.”
“Then why aren’t you moving?”
“I’m enjoying the view.”
Lauren looked down. His face was turned toward her, less than a foot from her fully exposed thigh.
“Stockings and garters.” He sighed. “God, I love an old-fashioned girl.” His hand reached toward her.
She slapped it, then yanked the full skirt down with a swish. Embarrassment, and maybe something else, gave her a warm flush.
“Spoilsport.” He sat up, brushed dirt from his jacket, then eyed her critically. “You’re really okay?” He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned close, examining her face by the weak light of the street lamp.
She nodded. “Thanks to you. That idiot could have killed us both.”
His voice was low and serious, his eyes watching her closely. “I think that was the idea, Lauren.”
She sucked in her breath. “Because he thought I was Meg?”
Drew didn’t answer, but his expression was hard as he got up and helped her to her feet. “Come on, you’re going home. No more role-playing.”
She wasn’t about to argue. Whatever Meg had gotten herself into was far more than Lauren could get her out of.
She was silent on the ride home. Between the cool air and nearly being flattened against the Washington, D.C., pavement, the effects of the champagne had evaporated. It didn’t take her long to discover that even acrylic nails could be chewed off, and her last decent fingernail was history before they hit the quiet streets of Georgetown.
Drew parked in the driveway and came around to open her door. With a rueful glance at the hand he held, he said, “I’m glad your fingernails were the only casualty tonight.”
“I don’t care about my nails. I just want Meg to be safe.”
“And I’m not worried about Meg. No, wait!” He held up his hands. “Before you start shooting laser beams from your eyes, listen. She’s with my dad, and he has all sorts of resources in this town. I’m more worried about keeping you safe. I’ll feel better once you’re home.”
“We are home.” Concern made her glance up and down the dark street. “Do you think someone might try to kill me between the car and the house?” She moved closer to him.
“No,” he said, but put his arm around her anyway and kept her close as they walked to the front door. “I meant I’ll feel better once you’re home in Lansing. You’ll be safe there.”
She looked at him in surprise. “You want me to leave?”
“As soon as possible.” He unlocked the door and took her arm to guide her inside, since she was too stunned to move on her own. “You can call your boyfriend in the morning. I’m sure he’ll approve.”
My fiancé, she thought, but didn’t say aloud. She was distracted by the realization that, even though Drew was probably right, she wasn’t looking forward to seeing Jeff. She’d much rather stay with Drew.
It hit her like a blow to the head.
“I’ll miss you, though,” he told her with a mischievous smile as he locked the door behind them and set the alarm. “I hate to let you leave without giving me a chance to fulfill my promise.”
“What promise?”
“Don’t tell me you forgot.” He leaned close and ran a finger from her ear, down her neck, over her collarbone, to the rise of her breasts. She shivered, not sure if it was from his finger or his gentle breath on her ear. “The promise I made to kiss you all over your body until you were breathless and hot and yearning and…”
And wet, her mind finished eagerly. Part of her brain was stumbling in shock, but the part that controlled her physical responses was keeping up just fine.
Drew’s finger stopped right above her cleavage. “But I guess attempted murder spoils the mood, doesn’t it?”
No, it doesn’t, her overheated libido fairly screamed.
“Too bad,” Drew said, pulling back enough for her to see that he looked truly regretful. “I’d bet it would be phenomenal.”
Phenomenal? She’d had good sex before, but never anything she’d call phenomenal. It could have been an arrogant boast, but she believed it.
Lauren hadn’t moved a muscle, including her eyes, which couldn’t seem to leave his face. They nearly crossed as his mouth moved toward hers.
“Good night, Aunt Lauren,” he murmured, and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. While she blinked stupidly, he turned and headed upstairs, humming the melody from one of the songs they’d danced to.
She carefully felt for the door behind her and sagged against it.
The feather-light touch Drew had placed beside her mouth was playing as much havoc with her nerve endings as their soul-searing kiss at the embassy. That wasn’t good. Jeff should be the one shorting out her neurons, not her sexy nephew, whom she’d known all of three days.
She’d lied to Drew about not having been kissed like that in years. She’d never been kissed like that. Even under the liberating influence of alcohol, Jeff’s kisses didn’t compare to the heated rush of passion Drew could ignite with one touch of his lips. Jeff’s kisses left her content and confident of his love. But not once had she felt pierced to the soul, restless with desire, and heaven help her, eager to wrap her legs around him and do it again.
And she was about to walk away from the one man who did.
Tomorrow she would go down to breakfast, change her airline reservations, and tell Drew good-bye.
Lauren exhaled a deep, shaky sigh.
It would help if this time he wore a shirt.
Drew tucked in his long-sleeved T-shirt as he descended the stairs, perking up at the bottom when he heard the low sound of Lauren’s voice. His interest died when he saw her in the den, talking on the phone. She would either be making arrangements with the airlines or giving the good news to stuffy, proper old Jeff. He didn’t care to overhear either conversation.
The smell of coffee led him to the kitchen, where Gerald sat at the table reading the morning paper.
“What are you doing here? It’s Sunday.”
Gerald lowered the business section. “I wanted to hear how it went last night at the embassy. Besides, Steven’s painting the kitchen and if I stay he’ll make me help.” When Drew merely nodded, Gerald prodded, “So what happened?”
Drew poured a cup of coffee and carried it to the table. Stirring in cream and sugar, he considered the best way to summarize their night. “Lauren charmed half a dozen dignitaries and got tipsy on champagne, and I nearly punched out our contact before we found out he was Meg’s ex-lover and some sort of Romanian spook. He has a pretty convincing story about a couple of professional types who are seriously looking for Meg, one of them being the guy who co-starred in Meg’s porn collection. Then we left and someone tried to run us down and kill us. Are those jelly donuts?”
Gerald’s eyes went wide behind his glasses as he passed the box of donuts. “So not much, huh?”
“Right.”
“Holy shit,” Gerald muttered. “Pardon my French.” He sipped his coffee and thought for a minute. “Lauren can’t go around posing as Meg anymore. She can’t go out at all.”
“I know. I’m sending her home today.”
“Good.” Gerald watched him closely. “You don’t look too happy about that.”
Drew turned a sharp glance his way but didn’t answer. He’d already lost hours of sleep over Lauren, and it wasn’t open for discussion. The need to keep her safe outweighed the odd, unsettled feeling he got in his chest whenever he looked at her. Not to mention the eager tightening in his groin.
They sat silently for a few minutes until Lauren wandered in. She gave Gerald a distracted greeting, then looked at Drew and bit her lip as she sat down.
At least she wasn’t being perky about leaving. “What’s wrong, isn’t Jeff glad you’re coming home?” Drew asked.
She looked up, apparently having a hard time focusing. “Hmm? Oh, yes. He is.”
Drew frowned. “Lauren.” He waited until her gaze cleared and settled on his. “What’s wrong?”
She chewed her lower lip. “Nothing. Well, maybe something. Jeff said a man has been at his apartment twice, asking for me. He didn’t leave his name, he just said it was personal.”
Drew tensed. “Is he still there?”
“This morning? I don’t know. Jeff drove by my apartment and said the guy was parked in front of the building for several hours last night.”
Drew’s thoughts were momentarily sidetracked. “Your apartment? You don’t live with your fiancé?”
She looked embarrassed. “What’s wrong with that? I like my independence.”
She liked being able to get away from the man she was going to marry. He’d come back to that one later.
“What was Jeff’s impression of the guy?”
She brushed it off impatiently. “He thought I must have won a sweepstakes contest, or something. The guy was friendly, but said he couldn’t leave a message, he had to talk to me personally, so Jeff thinks I have to sign a big check.”
“Or receive a summons,” Gerald suggested. “Is there any reason you might be served? A car accident? A liability issue at work? A medical lawsuit?”
Lauren shook her head to everything. “No, none of those. Believe me, I lead an uneventful, dull life. No summons.”
He set his cup down. “Okay, change of plans. I don’t know what in the hell Meg and my dad are involved in, but you can’t go home, Lauren. Now they’re looking for you and your sister, and no offense, but Jeff doesn’t sound like he’d provide much protection.”
She didn’t deny it. “But why? I don’t have information, I didn’t see anything, and I don’t know why Meg and Harlan disappeared.”
“Maybe those guys think you do.”
Her eyes looked gray, all shadowy and somber. “This is getting too scary.”
“Damn right. That’s why you’re going to have to stay in this house, at least until we know what’s going on,” Drew told her. If he could keep her out of the way, he might be able to contact some of his dad’s friends without drawing attention, ask a few discreet questions, and—”
“No.”
Drew and Gerald stared at her.
“Pardon me?” Gerald said.
The gray eyes were cool with disdain. “You are not keeping me locked in this house while you go running around on some manly quest for the truth. How do you know that car wasn’t aiming at you last night? How do you know that the guys in black suits and black cars aren’t searching the Colorado caves, or wherever the hell you live, looking for you, too?”
Gerald choked on a laugh. “Caves? Have you seen—?”
“Not now,” Drew cut him off with a wave of his hand. He narrowed a thoughtful glance at Lauren. “Good point. I’ll call some people and check.” He smiled. “The neighbors in the cave next to mine.”
“Go ahead.”
He looked at his watch. He might wake someone up, but oh well.
The first call to the lodge manager got no results outside of a grumpy request to get home before the ski season was over, but a call to one of the counselors told him what he didn’t want to hear.
Lauren and Gerald looked up expectantly when he returned to the table.
“You’re right, a couple guys were asking for me. They said they were with some alternative school back east, but Duane said they didn’t seem to know much about our programs.”
Lauren’s brow creased. “What programs? You have classes on how to be a snow bunny?”
“That’s not important,” he said, brushing her question aside, but noted the way Gerald watched with interest. Damn, that man picked up on everything. “The point is, they’re looking for me, too. After our close call with the car, we have to assume they aren’t interested in asking a few polite questions.”
No one spoke. Gerald appeared lost in thought, which meant he was in problem-solving mode. Having his father’s assistant as a resource was reassuring, but Lauren still looked scared. Her fingernails were now in danger of being gnawed to their nail beds, and her gracefully arched brows were drawn flat with concern. Drew resisted the impulse to reach across the table and smooth a finger over those creases, to coax the spirit and determination back into her eyes. For some reason he had to keep fighting the urge to protect Lauren, even though she seemed perfectly capable of taking care of herself in most respects.
Except in love. In that area she seemed remarkably obtuse, deluding herself into believing she loved a man who was obviously wrong for her. He’d spent the night thinking of nothing else and was pretty sure he understood her problem. In her determination to be the family paragon of virtue, Lauren had tied herself to a man certain to keep her that way. A sensible, safe life with no adventure, no daring, no fun. Drew longed to show her what she was missing, to make those intriguing eyes sparkle with excitement.
His pulse quickened at the thought. And since she wouldn’t be leaving now, he might get the chance to make it happen. Hell, he would make sure he got the chance. Sparkling eyes weren’t nearly enough; he wanted to see her glow with desire. Make her heart race, her breath catch, and her body convulse with—
“We need a plan,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow at her and smiled. He was already formulating one. “Oh, I agree.”
A suspicious twitch made her eyes narrow before she nodded and relaxed. “Good. It’ll be better if we can work together on this.”
“Absolutely.”
His easy agreement seemed to have her puzzled. She asked cautiously, “Do you have any ideas?”
“I certainly do.”
“Great.” She folded her arms on the table, leaning closer. “Let’s hear it.”
He lowered his voice confidentially. “It involves that dress you wore last night. Except without all the people and a lot less champagne.” His glance slid toward Gerald, then back to her. “Are you sure you want me to get specific right now?”
“Yes,” Gerald cut in. “We do.”
Her eyes widened with shock, then turned stormy.
He smiled. If he couldn’t have heated passion, he’d take heated anger. Not like that predictable, emotionless excuse for romance she was used to. Lauren didn’t know it, but she was about to be liberated.
She should have seen it coming. The man was incapable of rational thought.
“I’m trying to help.”
“I’ll do without it. You’re impossible.”
Drew’s lips slid into a crooked smile and her mind went fuzzy. “On the contrary. I intend to be very easy.”
She pictured him being very easy while she had her way with him again, and her nude fantasy returned with full force. Wonderfully sensitive parts of her grew hot with anticipation.
“Ooh, my, this is an interesting development,” Gerald said.
Lauren started. She’d forgotten about Gerald.
Removing his glasses, Gerald huffed a quick breath on each lens, polishing them with a napkin before returning them to his face. He scooted forward. “This is good. Don’t stop now.” He made an encouraging wave at Lauren. When she just stared, he looked between them. Considering the standoff, he smiled happily and wagged a finger at them both. “This time I’m pretty sure you two didn’t have a fight.”
“We didn’t,” Drew told him, his gaze still locked on hers. “In fact, Lauren was very friendly last night.”
“Bite me,” she said.
Drew grinned and wiggled an eyebrow. The heat spread to her fingers and toes.
“You don’t say,” Gerald said thoughtfully. “Details. Give me the details.”
“No,” they said in unison.
Gerald waited, but when they continued to ignore him, he sniffed his disappointment. “Okay, I can take a hint. I’ll give you two fifteen minutes to come up with that plan, or I’m going home to help Steven paint the kitchen. Let me know if you figure out how to play nice with each other.” He grabbed a muffin and left the room.
Lauren looked at Drew. On the positive side, she was so annoyed that she wasn’t the least bit tempted to kiss him again. On the negative side, she was lying to herself; she was aching to kiss him again. She wanted to throw herself at him, lick his mouth all the way back to his tonsils, then open his shirt and work her way down his body. Her vision blurred just thinking about it.
“Are you hungover?”
“What?” She jolted back to reality. “Of course not.”
“Because you look a little out of it. And you were awfully drunk last night.”
“I wasn’t the least bit drunk.”
Damn. It was out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying.
Drew grinned, his direct gaze holding hers, before roaming over her hair, her face, her breasts. “So you remember everything that happened. That’s good to know,” he said.
She sucked in a shaky breath. “Why are you doing this to me?” It came out more whispery and pathetic than she’d intended.
“Because we both want me to.”
She had no response to that. Groaning, Lauren propped her elbows on the table and dropped her head into her hands, clutching her hair. “We are not talking about this. We are going to come up with a plan to find my sister and your father, and figure out what’s going on.”
He sipped his coffee and considered her demand. “Okay.”
“Okay?” She looked up suspiciously. “You mean you’ll help me come up with a plan?”
“Not exactly.” He held up a hand when he saw her temper flare. “I won’t try to talk you out of it, because I understand how you feel. I feel the same way. But we start by talking to the Secret Service. That keeps you out of the line of fire, and they might have some leads by now.”
“Fine.” Now he was being sensible.
Drew leaned forward. “Then we talk about it.”
From the intensity of his gaze, she had no doubt what “it” was. Her insides squirmed, and she looked away. “I think it would be best if we forgot it,” she mumbled.
“Not possible.”
She refused to meet his eyes, afraid of the way they made her heart flutter and her body want to do inappropriate things. A desire to run for safety, to call Jeff again, rose like panic in her chest.
“Don’t run from me, Lauren,” Drew said, his voice soft and low as he read her thoughts.
She looked up, startled. This was not fair. Her engagement ring was supposed to ward off advances from other men, but Drew wasn’t following the rules. And she wasn’t nearly as disinterested as she was supposed to be. Before she could figure out why, her thoughts were interrupted by an urgent shout.
“Hey! Get in here, quick!”
They turned in alarm, then pushed back their chairs and dashed toward the living room. Gerald stood before the TV, his half-eaten muffin on the coffee table.
“Look at this!” His finger jabbed toward the TV screen. “You neglected to mention this.”
Lauren’s eyes widened with surprise. “Hey, that’s me! Why am I on TV?”
Drew stepped closer. “And me. And that’s the fat guy we met, what’s his name, Childers. What—”
“Shhh!” Gerald flapped his hands at them for silence.
A woman’s voice narrated, “—was arrested as he left the Romanian Embassy last night. Police say he is charged with bribery and fraud, and is currently being held without bail.” The picture disappeared and Lauren recognized Dana Zamecki, the blonde reporter who had waylaid Meg and Senator Creighton at the airport. Behind her, power cables snaked across the front lawn of a quiet residential neighborhood.
“Hey, that’s your front yard,” she said. She started toward the window, but Drew grabbed her arm and held her in place.
“But I want to see—”
Gerald waved her quiet again, as Dana continued, “Mr. Childers has been a major contributor to political campaigns, most notably that of Senator Harlan Creighton the third. The senator’s wife and son were partying with Childers last night shortly before his arrest.”
“Bitch,” Gerald said.
“Vultures,” Drew muttered.
Outraged, Lauren shushed them and stepped closer to the TV.
Dana looked excited about her news. “Police sources tell us they are investigating Mrs. Creighton’s rumored ties to a political action group suspected of being a front for illegal campaign contributions.”
“Uh-uh.” Gerald shook his head vigorously. “That’s an outright lie. Meg didn’t have ties to any local PACs. I did her background check.”
Lauren ground her teeth. She was getting tired of hearing her sister insulted, criticized, and second-guessed. Reporters got away with too much simply by adding the word “rumor” to their accusations; Dana deserved to be confronted about that lie. Lauren glanced at the window. Conveniently, Dana was standing on the front lawn at this very moment. Lauren turned away with sudden determination.
“Hey,” she heard Gerald say as she stalked toward the door. “Where are you going? You can’t go out there!”
Alerted, Drew swore and yelled, “Lauren, don’t!” but she had enough of a head start. She flung the front door open and had one foot on the porch before Drew grabbed her arm from behind.
“Get back inside,” he hissed in her ear.
She shook him off. “I will, just as soon as I set that woman straight.”
Crowding next to Drew, Gerald grabbed a handful of her sweater. “Don’t talk to them,” he pleaded.
She reached behind her to swat at his hand. “Let go.”
Something jabbed her chin. As she turned, Dana pulled the microphone back a scant inch and said, “Mrs. Creighton! Could you comment on Bud Childers’s arrest?”
Lauren could have taken a bite out of the microphone, it was so close. As she parted her lips to snap out a response, Miss Blonde Ambition hit her with the next question.
“What does your husband have to say about Mr. Childers’s claim that you and the senator’s son accepted a fifty thousand dollar bribe on Senator Creighton’s behalf just last night?”
Lauren blinked at the woman, stunned. “What?”
Before she could utter more, Drew’s hand landed on her shoulders and yanked her back inside. Gerald slammed the door behind them, nearly crushing the microphone.
The foyer wall was at her back, and Drew’s face was in front of her. Anger flattened the sexy curve of his lip, although it was still attractive enough at this close range to keep her attention. Even when he ground his teeth like that.
Gerald didn’t bother fighting for control. He waved a finger under her nose and scolded, “You nearly broke the first commandment, young lady: Never speak to the press without consulting me first.” His voice grew menacing enough for scary bedtime stories. “Remember this: Reporters will eat you alive, then fight over your bones. They are bad, bad people. Do you understand?”
She nodded, then looked warily back at Drew.
“Gerald’s right,” he told her firmly.
“I remember. Gerald’s always right.”
“And don’t you forget it,” Gerald harrumphed. She nodded again, meekly, which seemed to pacify him. “Excuse me while I get rid of the Evil Witch of the Potomac,” he grumbled, pushing past Drew to slip out the front door.
Drew still held her shoulders to the wall, and Lauren squirmed under his gaze. If he meant to intimidate her with his size, it wasn’t working, because she was getting a hot tingle of awareness that had nothing to do with intimidation.
“Good.”
“You can let me go now. I promise I won’t talk to the press.” He didn’t move. She wasn’t even sure he heard her. “Drew?”
He squinted thoughtfully. “What color are your eyes?”
“What?”
His brows puckered. “Sometimes they look green, and sometimes they look gray, like now. What color are they?”
“Hazel.”
His deep stare softened, and so did his mouth. “Yeah?”
Geez, how could he do that with one word? A pleasant pressure built between her thighs and her temperature soared along with her pulse. Not that her mind wasn’t still capable of composing a brilliant response. “Yeah,” she said.
He seemed to find that wonderfully incisive. His lips curved even more, and her lungs collapsed with a deep sigh. God, the things she wanted to do to that mouth.
“I like them.”
“Huh?” Had she actually suggested something aloud?
“Your eyes. They’re pretty.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
Her sparkling conversation was having an effect; his smile grew even wider. He moved closer.
Lauren flattened against the wall, but Drew’s forearms did too, framing either side of her head and bringing his face inches away from her own. She struggled to remember why she was supposed to resist him. It had something to do with morals. With one tiny move she could have her lips sealed against his. Her breasts picked up the warm tingle from below and arched toward him. If he would just lean a little closer…
He did, his chest brushing exquisitely against her nipples and his mouth grazing the side of hers. She closed her eyes and waited, breathing heavily and trying to resist temptation.
“You know what I think you should do?” he asked against her trembling lip.
“What?” she asked, her voice tremulous.
His lips brushed her cheek as he whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her neck, all the way to her toes. “I think you should call Jeff.”
Her fantasy crashed. “What?”
His face drew back enough for her to see his dark blue eyes and feel the warmth of his breath. One hand lifted off the wall and his fingers caressed her cheek, then trailed a fiery line down her neck. “If you’re about to cheat on the poor man, the least you can do is break up with him first.”
Just because he was dead on target didn’t mean he wasn’t an arrogant ass. “Cheat? Why, you insufferable—” she began, but her words were smothered by his mouth as his lips covered hers and his tongue plunged right into her startled open mouth. His hands left the wall and cupped her face, holding it still as his tongue sought hers and his chest pressed her against the wall.
She maintained her indignation for a full second, then melted under the heat building inside her. Whether her mind consented or not, it seemed her body was more than willing to follow Drew’s lead.
She stopped resisting.
With a moan that hummed from her mouth into his, she reached up to pull him closer, an effort that was physically impossible. Lauren heard herself make urgent, happy little sounds as she raised her knee against the side of his leg. He responded, pressing her to the wall so firmly that she felt the hard line of his erection. Just as she was trying to devise a way to slip a hand between them, the door burst open, then slammed shut again.
They parted like guilty teenagers.
“Ha! I dispersed the vile hordes,” Gerald gloated, “and I threatened their evil queen with a lawsuit if she so much as implied bribery without hard evidence…” His voice trailed off as he looked at them. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Drew propped one hand on the wall and half turned toward Gerald, keeping the front of his pants from view.
“We were just talking,” Lauren said. “Arguing, actually.” That sounded more realistic.
“I see. Well, continue. I have to check out her report, then contact the Secret Service and light a fire under someone’s ass. They haven’t told us a thing about their investigation, and it seems to be more complex than we knew.” He took a few steps, then glanced back. “By the way, Andrew, that shade of lipstick really isn’t you. I’d go with more brown tones.”
“Damn,” Drew muttered to Gerald’s back. “That man knows everything that happens around here.”
She stifled a nervous giggle. “We made it pretty easy.” Lauren used her finger to wipe lipstick from his upper lip. When his interested gaze settled on her, she withdrew her hand. “I think I’ll go see what Gerald can find out about those men who tried to kidnap me.”
He smiled as she edged away. “It’s not me you’re afraid of, you know. You’re afraid of yourself.”
She didn’t bother responding, because this time she knew he was right. She was scared to death of the powerful attraction she felt for a man who was all wrong for her.
He was right about something else, too. She needed to call Jeff.