Chapter
Nine
They found Gerald lurking among the melons, driving cap pulled low over his eyes, appearing to be in deep deliberation over which fruit to buy. When he saw them he lifted a melon in front of his face and whispered furtively around it.
“Are you being followed?”
Drew took the melon from him and placed it in their empty shopping cart. “No, they waited in the parking lot. They’re parked next to the Mercedes.”
Gerald looked disappointed. “Who are they?”
“It’s Hawknose and Trenchcoat,” Lauren told him, nodding sagely to emphasize the significance of her information.
His mouth dropped open. “Those two incompetent idiots are Secret Service?”
“Yes, and they’re expecting us to buy a cart full of groceries,” Drew told him, “so give us a good twenty minutes or so before you go out to the car.”
Gerald snorted. “You can add another ten onto that while I berate that big clod for ripping my topcoat. The federal government owes me a refund, and by God, that clumsy oaf is going to get the bill.”
“Just don’t forget to buy some groceries first,” Drew said.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry.”
Drew dangled the keys to his dad’s Mercedes in front of Gerald’s face.
“Oh.” Gerald pulled a set of keys from his pocket and made the switch. “I parked by the loading dock in back. And if that ape in the produce truck got so much as a speck of dirt on my car, call the cops. I already have his license plate number.”
The side of Drew’s mouth quirked upward. “Will do.”
They started to leave when Gerald called out, “Hey, where are you going? How can I find you if something comes up?”
“I’m not sure where we’ll be, but we’ll check in with you.”
Gerald leveled a finger at Drew. “You be careful with Lauren.”
Drew’s arm went around Lauren’s shoulder and pulled her close. “Don’t worry.”
She broke away to go back and kiss Gerald’s cheek. “You’re sweet,” she said.
He smiled. “It’s one of my best qualities. Hey, what’s with the pockets?”
She followed his gaze to the bulging pouches on each side of her jacket. “Clean underwear.”
Gerald’s eyes darted to Drew, then back to her. He leaned close and said in a confidential whisper, “The skimpy, sexy kind, I hope.”
She shoved a hand into his shoulder. “I take it back. You men are all alike.”
A wicked grin crossed his face. “When opportunity knocks, be prepared. And girlfriend, you’ve got a huge hunk of opportunity standing over there.”
She bit her lip. “’Bye, Gerald. Don’t be too hard on the feds.”
“Sorry, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. You take care, now.”
He set off purposefully toward the dairy section as Lauren rejoined Drew. Exiting through an “employees only” door, they found the rear loading dock. Lauren followed Drew’s direction down a short flight of cement steps to the oil-stained pavement behind the store, and stared at the sleek silver sports car gleaming in the spring sun.
“That’s a Volvo?”
“Volvo C-Seventy. Nice, huh? Gerald’s a car snob.”
She gave it a long, appreciate look. “Bet it goes fast.”
“Bet we aren’t going to find out.” They took a side driveway, then slipped into midday Washington traffic.
Lauren hadn’t questioned Drew’s escape plan, probably because her mind became muddled every time he touched her, and he’d made his plans while stroking her and her brain cells into rapturous confusion. With both of his hands on the steering wheel, she had a better chance at holding an intelligent conversation.
“Now tell me why we’re playing hide and seek with the Secret Service,” she said, tossing her raincoat into the back seat. “We’re not the ones Chapman and his partner were supposed to protect. Do you really think they’ll waste their time looking for us?”
“I’m more concerned with avoiding whoever followed us to the embassy and tried to turn us into road kill. And as for the Secret Service, they did follow us to Whole Foods. Maybe they think the best way to find Dad and Meg is to stick close to us, in case they try to contact us again.”
She liked the idea of eluding whoever was trying to kill them, but Lauren had been hoping Meg would call again. “If they do try, we won’t be at the house. What if we miss a call from them?”
His mouth set in a grim line. “I don’t think we will. Something spooked them, Lauren, and they ran from the people who were there to protect them. They took a chance and called once just so we would think they were safely out of the country. I don’t think they’ll risk it again.”
She nodded, thinking. Who was her sister so afraid of? “I wasn’t enchanted with Agent Chapman, but when he thought I was Meg he seemed honestly frustrated that I wouldn’t let him take me into protective custody. I don’t think he was lying, Drew. He doesn’t know why they ran from him.”
“I know, I don’t get it, either. But if we want to find them, I think our chances are better if we stay away from the Secret Service. And since the Secret Service might think their chances are better by staying with us,” he patted the dashboard fondly, “we use Gerald’s hot Swede to sneak away.”
“Makes sense,” she said, settling back in her seat. And by the way, we could get there a lot faster if you’d give this baby some gas.”
He shot her a puzzled smile. “Is this a glimpse of your wild side?”
She didn’t know what it was. She felt suddenly free, like she’d just been sprung from a cage and was eager to see how far and how fast she could go. “I like fast cars,” she said, even though she was pretty sure her feeling had nothing to do with cars.
“Sorry to disappoint you, but we don’t want to attract attention.”
Too bad. But she could indulge that impulse another time, since she had no intention of going back in that cage. “So where are we going?”
“Take your pick. We could check the last place we know they were—the airport. If they never left for the Virgin Islands, we can assume the Secret Service made sure they didn’t get on a different flight, either. And if they didn’t fly out of there, they must have driven. We could try the rental car companies and taxis, which would take days. I’m guessing the Secret Service is already on that, and doing a better job than we could. They could also have called a friend for a ride. We could contact the most likely suspects and see if they know anything.”
She nodded. “Time consuming, but it might work. What else?”
“Dana Zamecki, the TV reporter. How did she happen to be there with a camera crew exactly when Dad and Meg were trying to run from the Secret Service?”
She thought for a few seconds. “You think someone tipped her off. Who? Meg and your dad?”
“I think either Dad and Meg set it up to make the Secret Service and everyone else think they were leaving the country, or the bad guys tipped Dana off, just to cover that avenue. If Meg and Dad tried to fly out of town, it would be news, and they’d hear about it.”
“Agent Chapman said another senator was being blackmailed first. If we could figure out who it was, maybe he’d have some idea who might be doing it, or where your dad and Meg are hiding.”
He smiled and reached over to gently squeeze her thigh. “Good thinking. Now where would you like to start?”
Right there’s good, she thought as her brain cells scrambled again. Or a little higher. The warmth of his hand spread up her leg to settle between her thighs.
Closing her eyes, she willed his hand to move upward.
“Lauren? Are you thinking?”
“Yes.” She peeked at him.
Comprehension sparked the moment their eyes met. For one second Drew appeared startled, then his gaze shot into her like a laser, clean and purposeful. “Jesus,” he muttered, jerking his hand back as if he’d been burned. “Tell me where we’re going right now, before I pull into the nearest Marriott.”
She nearly asked how close the Marriott was, but an irritating thread of common sense held her back.
“Let’s start at the beginning, with your dad’s friend, the other senator who was being blackmailed.”
Drew released a sharp breath. “Okay. That means we go see Paul Pierson, the octopus you danced with at the embassy. He and Dad aren’t in the same political party, but they’ve both been in Washington a long time and no one knows my dad better.” He took a sharp right turn and began working his way back toward the Capitol area.
Lauren thought she did a credible job of looking calm and collected, even though her heart pounded and her pelvis throbbed. The connection between them was only growing stronger, and it shocked her every time she felt it. It wasn’t just sexual—she admired Drew’s resourcefulness and intelligence, and the way he kept his sense of humor in a crisis. But she wasn’t about to downplay the sexual part. It was new and powerful, and best of all, mutual. She intended to explore it in languorous detail, not in the desperate collision of bodies that this new, outrageous side of her seemed prone to.
Although they could try that, too. Lauren looked out the passenger window, chin propped in her hand to hide her grin.
Drew silently thanked Gerald for his Eagle Scout preparedness. The BlackBerry in the glove compartment contained every conceivable phone number, from the Georgetown dry cleaner to the president’s secretary. Combined with IDs and passes for nearly any government building in D.C., they were inside Senator Pierson’s suite in the Dirksen Senate Building with barely enough time for Drew to lose the persistent erection he suffered whenever he touched Lauren.
Paul Pierson met them in the deserted corridor with open arms. “Meg, you luscious temptress, you decided to leave the old fart after all! You’ve made the right choice.”
Drew inserted his arm between them as the senator attempted to wrap Lauren in an embrace. “Sorry, Senator, not this time. You can flirt all you want with Dad’s wife, but this is her sister, Lauren. I wouldn’t want her to think you’re as lecherous as you pretend to be.”
Pierson dropped his arms, but looked intrigued, staring first at Drew, then Lauren. “You’re kidding.”
Lauren shook her head. “I’m sorry about deceiving you at the embassy, but we had a good reason.”
“That was you?” After another long, interested look at Lauren, Pierson asked, “Does Meg know about this?”
“No.” Lauren shook her head.
“Harlan?”
“No,” Drew answered.
“Huh. This should be good. Come on in and sit down. It’s Sunday and the Senate recessed for a week, so we have the office to ourselves. I can offer you a drink, if you’ll settle for Pepsi, 7-Up, or Nestea.”
Drew caught Lauren’s surprised glance as they followed him to his inner office, and smiled. “The senator’s not the lush he appears. He also has a wife and six kids, so I hope he’s not an adulterous lech, either.”
“Hey now, son, don’t give away my secrets. Just tell me why you two are going around Washington impersonating my favorite lady. Right after my wife and four daughters, that is.”
Drew watched Lauren succumb to Pierson’s charms and felt a twinge of jealousy. They weren’t even lovers—not yet, anyway, an oversight he planned to correct soon—and already he felt proprietary. Lauren seemed to bring out all sorts of new feelings in him. But he had other important things to worry about now.
“This is confidential information, Senator. You can’t talk about it with anyone, because we don’t know yet who Dad and Meg are hiding from or why.”
“Hiding from?” Pierson’s expression grew serious. “Tell me.”
They told the story the way Agent Chapman had related it to them, beginning with Senator Creighton’s report to the Secret Service that someone was attempting to use another senator’s indiscretions to buy votes, his idea to “marry” his secretary and continue seeing his current girlfriend in order to make himself a target, followed by Meg and Harlan’s abrupt disappearance when the apparent blackmail was received.
They left out the X-rated photos in the safe-deposit box. Drew was fairly certain the pictures were what had been offered to buy Senator Creighton’s silence, although he didn’t understand how his father might be intimidated by proof that his wife had had a previous lover.
Pierson’s sharp mind hadn’t missed any of the implications. “That’s an incredible story, son, but I don’t see why you’re so desperate to find Harlan and Meg. Why not wait for them to show up on their own?”
“Because they’re so afraid of something they don’t even trust the Secret Service to keep them safe,” Drew told him. “Whoever tried to blackmail them must be pretty powerful if they don’t feel safe with that level of protection.”
“And they tried to convince us to stay out of it, to keep us safe,” Lauren added.
“So naturally you want to get right in the middle of it.”
“Someone has to,” Drew told him.
He regarded them over his soft drink as he took a long sip, then set the can on his desk. “Okay, how can I help? I assume that’s why you’ve told me about it. I’ll do whatever I can.”
“We’re hoping you can give us a name,” Drew said. “We have very few clues to go on. Maybe if we know which senator confided in my dad, it would help us figure out who might be trying to blackmail them.”
“You mean tell you who might be cheating on his wife, so you can confront him?”
“Do you have a better idea?” Drew asked.
Pierson eyed him speculatively for several seconds, then shook his head. “No.”
The senator rose and stood at the window, staring at the street below. Lauren gave Drew a worried look and he took her hand with a gentle, reassuring squeeze while they waited for Senator Pierson to decide how much he could trust them.
Finally, Pierson turned. “I heard something recently that I discounted at the time. It may be nothing, but there is one person who could be in that sort of situation, and who would probably confide in Harlan before anyone else.” Drew waited, while Pierson struggled with his reservations. “It has to remain strictly confidential.”
“Of course.”
“And remember, this is only speculation.”
Drew nodded impatiently.
Pierson took a deep breath. “It could have been Senator McNabb.”
Whatever name he expected, it wasn’t that one. “Senator Charlene McNabb?”
“Yes, Charly. And I’m not going to tell you why I think so. If she wants to talk to you, she’ll tell you. If not, well, rumors aren’t always true.”
What Drew knew about Charlene McNabb was the image she showed the entire country—a conservative wife, mother, and politician who fought hard for the very family values she personified. He couldn’t imagine confronting the woman about possible sexual dalliances, but if she was their only lead to finding his father and Meg, he’d have to do it.
They shook hands with Senator Pierson and promised to keep in touch. Guiding Lauren back through the empty corridors, Drew took an impulsive turn away from the elevators.
“This building connects with Hart. Let’s stop by my dad’s office while we’re here.”
“Why, will someone be there?”
“Probably not, but maybe if they wanted to get in touch they’d leave a message on his private phone, thinking no one else would get it.” He shrugged. “It’s a long shot, but we’re already here, so why not check?”
They passed a few people and saw several offices with doors open and lights on, but Senator Creighton’s office was locked. Drew had never before used the key Gerald insisted he carry, but he silently blessed his dad’s secretary for his obsessive precautions. He locked the door behind them while Lauren went to her sister’s desk and replayed a droning string of phone messages.
“Nothing here. Try your dad’s phone.”
He bypassed the light switch for the inner office and turned on the small desk lamp instead. It provided more than enough light to see that the assistant office manager must have taken care of any messages that had come in. Nothing was on the machine.
Lauren’s obvious dejection was a good excuse for him to wrap a comforting arm around her shoulder, and her disappointed sigh aroused his protective instincts. “Don’t worry, we’ll find them,” he said, turning her toward his chest so he could run his other hand through the silky hair that lay against her cheek.
For no reason he could name, his brain conjured an image of Lauren among the wildflowers on the slope below his house and laughing in the bright sunshine that filled his Colorado kitchen. It must be some scent in her shampoo, one of those herbal concoctions with fanciful names like “Spring Breeze” or “Mountain Sunshine,” that triggered memories of home.
Lauren cuddled closer, her head falling softly against his chest. He went from protective to predatory in two seconds, and it seemed impossible that she could keep up with that electric jolt of lust.
He used both hands to cup her face as he whispered, “Lauren?”
The eyes she raised to him were hazy green in the yellowish lamp light, clouded with desire. Drew’s heart rate shot up. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
When he lowered his head to kiss her, she met his mouth willingly, slipping her arms around him and pressing her breasts against his chest. His hands slipped beneath her thin cotton shirt, thumbs stroking the sides of each soft mound. The satisfied little “Mmm” sound she made only excited him further. Desire escalated to frantic need. He wanted to touch her all over, then sink into her hot center and never leave it. He wanted her naked, now.
“Lauren,” he said, breaking away from her mouth and murmuring into her hair as he kissed her neck, her ear. “This isn’t the best place.”
Her voice was breathy, words catching in her throat. “I know. It’s the office of a United States senator. It’s not the best time or place, but I can’t wait.” Her voice dropped to a near moan and she pressed her forehead against his chest, as if bracing herself against pain. “Oh God, Drew. I want you now.”
He groaned with anticipation. “Good, but I meant we don’t have to do it here. There’s an adjoining room with a bed.”
“A place for my dad to crash during long sessions and committee hearings. It’s not big, but then I don’t think we’ll need much room. We’re going to be very close together.”
“Hmm.”
It sounded so ambivalent he feared she’d just lost interest. He’d probably been stupid to propose using his father’s bed, especially after she’d said it felt wrong to want him while they were in a Senate office. Damn. He suspected she wasn’t as proper as she pretended, but he’d pushed it too far. He should—
She gave his shoulders a shove and he fell back into his father’s desk chair. “I think I like it better right here.”
“Huh?” He looked up into eyes sparkling with mischief as she straddled his knees and leaned into him, hands braced on the chair arms.
“I don’t want to use your father’s bed. You bring out something different in me, Drew.” She lifted a hand to trace random lines across his chest, sending messages straight to his groin. “Something a little wild. Uncaged. A bed would be all wrong for that image, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely. What was I thinking?” He might have made one stupid assumption, but he was a fast learner.
Her secretive smile was turning him on as much as anything else. Right now the anything else was her breasts, which arched toward him as she twisted to look around the office. “This place is so stuffy and proper. It makes me want to break a few rules.”
He smiled and ran his thumbs across the tips of her breasts, delighting at the feel of her nipples hardening through her clothes. “Lauren, I can’t believe how badly I’ve underestimated you.”
“Mmm, well, don’t worry, I’m about to let you make up for that.” She backed up a step, out of his reach, her hands closing over the hem of her top. In one smooth move she whipped it over her head and dropped it to the floor.
He took a deep breath and groaned, his desire growing by the second.
She smiled, serene and confident. The only hint of excitement lay in her rapid, shallow breaths and flushed cheeks, and he knew they only hinted at the energy beneath the surface.
He was hard as a rock. He should have guessed there were hidden depths here. She was too intriguing, too contrary to be the responsible, proper woman she wanted the world to see. And Drew was curious as hell to see just how improper Lauren Sutherland could be.
Part of her couldn’t believe how bold she’d become, stripping her top off and propositioning Drew in the office of the most powerful senator in the country. Another part of her reveled in the surge of power she felt every time she saw lust flare in his eyes. The irony didn’t escape her—after years of being the good girl and setting the right example, it turned out she was as sex crazed as Meg.
She was fine with that. She was done with a sex life that was planned in advance down to every boring day and time. Spontaneity was her new mantra. Like the impulse she’d had when she looked at Senator Creighton’s expansive desk with its neat stack of files at each end and all that lovely, uncluttered space in between. All she could think of was grabbing Drew, spreading her legs over some pending legislation and having wonderfully inappropriate sex.
She took Drew by surprise, but he was catching on fast. Pulling her back against his knees, he slipped his fingers inside her bra, popped out one eagerly swollen breast, and lowered his mouth.
Silky, wet heat surrounded her and she swayed dizzily. The man knew how to use his mouth, and wanton impulses flooded her pelvis with each tug on her nipple. She moaned happily.
“Good?” he murmured, switching sides.
“Incredible.” The pressure between her thighs turned into a tickle that made her wiggle against his knees. Drew seemed able to get her from interested to panting a lot faster than she’d expected. She reached behind her back and unfastened her bra. Slipping it free from between their bodies, she flung it aside, the bra catching on the corner of the picture frame behind Senator Creighton’s desk. Thomas Jefferson now had a lightly padded B-cup tilted rakishly over one eye. But he didn’t seem to mind, and knowing Senator Creighton’s reputation, she thought it might not be the first bra tossed in that room.
“Nice one,” Drew said. “Try the jeans next.” His fingers worked at her zipper.
She grabbed a handful of shirt and pulled him out of his chair. “Not until you catch up.”
“No problem.” He had his shirt off in seconds and went back to her zipper, pulling jeans and panties down in one swipe. She laughed, trying to toe her shoes off and getting tangled in her jeans. “Help.”
He boosted her bare ass onto the desk, her butt cheeks resting squarely on cool, polished mahogany. “Stop kicking,” he said, and knelt to pull off her shoes, then finished stripping off her jeans. He rose, eyes holding hers as he stepped out of his own shoes and unfastened his pants. All that eye contact was heart-fluttering and romantic, but there was no way she was going to miss her first close-up of that lean, hard body.
His mouth slid into a crooked smile. “Let me know when you’re done looking.”
“We don’t have that long. I’ll look some more later.” Hooking her legs around his thighs, she pulled him close until his erection ran into her abdomen. “Almost,” she croaked. “A little lower.”
“Not yet.”
She sucked in her breath as a thought occurred to her. “You’re right, I forgot all about protection. I hope you brought something.”
“Are you kidding? I brought several somethings. And I’ll put one on just as soon as you get ready.”
“Now would be good.”
He chuckled. “Patience.” One hand moved from her hip to caress between her legs, releasing a hot rush of need as she nearly collapsed onto the desk. She propped herself on her elbows, breathing hard. He leaned over her, stroking her into a blissful, preorgasmic haze.
“Right on the desk, eh?” he asked.
She nodded, then gasped as his finger slid deep inside her, making her shiver with pleasure. When he drew it out and traced a wet line upward, she closed her eyes and panted in shallow, shaky breaths.
“Jesus, Lauren,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to hers, kissing her between words. “You’re more than ready.”
She looked into the blue eyes so close to her own. “Legislation turns me on.”
His eyes sparkled. “Really? In that case, maybe I should recite the Bill of Rights. Or should I just”—his finger moved lower again, slipping inside her as his hand pressed and circled—“do this.”
“Do that,” she croaked, then bit her lip as a second finger joined the first. She wanted to tell him to stop, to put himself inside her, that he was going too fast, but seconds later waves of ecstasy rolled through her, and her muscles tightened around his fingers until she went limp. She opened her eyes.
He was smiling. “I think you’re ready now.”
“I think you missed it.”
His fingers left her as he searched his jeans pocket for a condom and put it on. “I’ll catch the next one.”
“I hate to tell you, but one is all I get.”
“We’ll see,” he said.
He pressed himself against her, smiling as her eyes widened, and she began to think he might be right. She spread her thighs wider and hooked her heels behind him, aching for him to complete the penetration. She’d just reached orgasm on a senator’s desk, which seemed appropriate for her new wild and uncaged life, and she was about to do it a second time. She felt liberated. In fact, if she had the chance, she’d do it in yet another inappropriate location…
“Wait!” She sat up, nearly bumping heads with Drew.
“What’s wrong?”
“I changed my mind. I want to do it on the floor.”
He squinted like he was having a hard time focusing on her words. “You want to move now?”
“Yes.” She slipped her hand between them and cupped his scrotum, massaging while she nibbled at his neck. “Please?”
He closed his eyes and groaned.
“I want to try another new place that I’ve never tried before.” She moved her hand higher, stroking the hardness with her fingers. “Humor me.”
“You’re killing me here.” He kissed her once, hungrily, then pulled her against him and lifted, her legs still encircling his waist. He stopped on a thick pile rug between brown leather chairs. “How’s this?”
“Perfect.” She slid from his arms and pulled him to the floor on top of her. “Now where were we?”
“I know where I was just about to be.” He found his place and without hesitation slipped inside her.
Warmth flooded outward from her center and she arched up against him, asking for more. He lowered himself until his dusting of chest hair rubbed against her breasts, hardening her nipples to tiny buds. Nuzzling her neck, he moved inside her slowly, teasing and brushing until the pleasant tingle in her lower body became an inflamed need. Within a minute she was panting and arching her back to pull him deeper with every thrust of his hips.
Just a little more… She pushed against him, closing her eyes and reaching for what was just beyond her grasp. If he would just go a little faster …
His movements slowed. She opened her eyes to find his face hovering just above her own, watching, smiling with every deliberate thrust that increased her need without fulfilling it.
“Close?”
She nodded, breathing hard.
He moved hard against her, prolonging the contact. “More?”
“Yes!”
“Sure you don’t want to change places again?”
She tried for a threatening glare, but he moved again and it felt so good she laughed, the sound rumbling from deep in her chest. “Please,” she managed between panting breaths.
He chuckled softly, sounding a bit strained. Taking her mouth in a deep kiss, he pumped his hips faster. Seconds later she gasped against his mouth and wrapped her legs around his hips, hanging on tightly as pleasure rocked through her in hard waves.
As the final paroxysms eased, she stroked the cool dampness on his back, too drained to move more than her hands. “Oh my God, Drew,” she said on a groan.
He eased his weight up, propping himself on one elbow as he stroked a lock of hair off her face with is other hand. He made a small, deliberate movement inside her. Hello there. She automatically squeezed back.
“You’re amazing,” he said softly.
“And a little weird.”
“Adventurous,” he corrected with a kiss. “My kind of woman.”
His heavy-lidded eyes look so aroused that Lauren decided it might be a good thing to be a little weird.
She’d never felt this way with Jeff, not even close. Apparently having the right kind of sex required the wrong man. And career-less, aimless, philandering Drew Creighton was definitely the wrong man.