Chapter
Thirteen

Mihaly swore fiercely. “If they made that known, they must be in danger. Where are they?”

Pierson looked from Mihaly to Renke, suspicion mingling with confusion on his face. “Are you both Secret Service?” He peered at Mihaly. “What was that accent? Are you even an American?” Without waiting for an answer, he turned to Lauren. “I don’t understand. Why are these men here? Why do you need protection?”

Before she could answer, Renke spoke up. “Why did they call you when they could have called us?”

“They said this phone was tapped.” Pierson frowned. “I’d like to see some ID.”

“Yes, sir.” With an efficient flick of his wrist, Renke flipped open a leather folder. Pierson glanced at it, grunted, and nodded his head at Mihaly. “You, too.”

Lauren didn’t see what Mihaly showed him, but Pierson looked up and said, incredulously, “Romania?”

“Deputy Ambassador,” Mihaly said dryly, supplying the title no one seemed to believe. “Also a good friend of Meg’s. Please tell us what they told you.”

“In detail, from the beginning,” Renke added.

Pierson took a deep breath and nodded. “Harlan called me at home about half an hour ago. He started to give me some story about hiding out from the press, but I told him I knew about the blackmail scheme. He wasn’t happy about that.” Pierson gave Lauren an apologetic smile. “He seemed concerned that I would be in danger, too. And he gave me an address where Drew and Lauren can meet them. He said someone spotted them yesterday and they think the area is being searched. They’re afraid to come in on their own.” With another hesitant glance at Lauren, he added, “They said to hurry.”

Mihaly swore again.

“Where are they?” Renke demanded.

The Senator handed over a slip of paper. “It’s in Maryland, about forty-five minutes from here.” To Lauren, he said, “My hunch was right. It’s the same place I told you and Drew about earlier.”

A sense of urgency shot through Lauren. Forgetting she wore little more than a robe, she rushed to Mihaly, grabbing his arm. “We can’t wait. Come on, we’ll go now and Drew can meet us there.”

She started for the door, but Mihaly didn’t budge. Renke’s hand shot out like a stop sign in front of her. “No.”

She stared. “What do you mean, no? You heard him, Meg is in danger. We have to go now!”

“Not you. My partner said you stay here, and I agree.”

“They asked for me and Drew,” she insisted. “At least one of us has to show up, or they’ll think it’s a trap.”

“No. He’s right, Lauren.” Mihaly’s voice was softer, but no less firm. “I promised Drew you would be safe.”

“Where is he?” Pierson interrupted. “He’s supposed to be there, too.”

“He and Chapman are checking out a lead, but we can call him. He’ll be there,” she assured him. “And so will I,” she told Mihaly.

“No, you stay here. I will go. Meg will trust me.”

“And me.” She’d practically forgotten about Gerald, who was apparently as bored with sitting around waiting as she was. “If I can’t go home, then at least I can help.” He stuck his hands on his hips and faced Renke. “But I won’t carry a gun, so don’t ask.”

Renke gave him a withering look. “Never occurred to me. In fact, taking you along never occurred to me, either.”

“Too bad.” Gerald pushed past him. “You need to create a presence, and they both know and trust me. I’m not doing anyone any good here. Don’t just stand there, let’s get moving.”

Renke turned a skeptical look on Mihaly, who shrugged. “He’s right. The more of us, the better.”

When Renke’s gaze swung to Lauren, Pierson moved to her side. “I’ll stay here with Lauren,” he offered. “Please, just find Harlan and Meg, and get this whole thing over with.”

“Damn it,” Renke muttered, looking at his improvised posse. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Hey!” Lauren objected.

The door shut in her face. She kicked it, almost glad of the pain that distracted her from her frustration.

Pierson watched silently out the window as Renke’s car drove off, then pulled a cell phone from his pocket. An awkward sense of propriety that Lauren thought she’d overcome compelled her to quote the rules as he dialed a number. “The Secret Service didn’t want us making calls, even on cell phones. The wrong people could listen in.”

He flashed a cool smile, holding the phone to his ear. “I don’t think it matters anymore.” He may have been right, but before she even had a chance to argue he spoke to someone on the other end. “They’re on their way.”

At Lauren’s puzzled look, Senator Pierson flipped the phone shut, raked her with a head-to-toe appraisal and held an arm out toward the couch. “Shall we make ourselves comfortable while we wait? It won’t be long.”

Something in his smile made her shiver.

Drew ground his teeth as the desk clerk flicked another piece of lint from his blazer. In about ten seconds Drew was going to leap over the counter, grab a fistful of that nifty red blazer the clerk seemed so fond of, and stuff it down the little twerp’s throat.

“Yeah, I remember the badge,” the twerp said. “It was really cool. Star shaped, just like in the movies, ya know? But I didn’t really look at the guy’s face.”

Chapman’s patience looked to be fraying, too, but it was still more stable than Drew’s. “You must have noticed something because you said he wasn’t blond.”

The clerk nodded thoughtfully. “That’s right, I did. And I’m positive about that. So I guess I am kinda observant, huh?” He stood straighter and adjusted the jacket.

Drew’s jaw was beginning to hurt from clenching it so hard. The kid at the desk had actually spoken to the man who was their best lead, and he couldn’t remember a thing about the guy, except that he wasn’t the man in the picture they’d shown him. Drew would have loved to knock the kid’s memory back into place, but since Chapman’s method was more likely to get results, he ground another millimeter of enamel off his molars and kept quiet.

“Maybe he was older,” Chapman suggested. “Maybe he had gray hair.”

“Fu… I mean, heck, no. The guy wasn’t that old. I woulda noticed that, for sure. Secret Service guys are never old, right? Say, what do they do with you guys when you get too old to take down some bad guy?”

Chapman’s eye developed a tic, and he looked like he wanted to demonstrate his proficiency at that skill right now. “So he didn’t have gray hair?”

“No way. Hey, I remembered that! I’m pretty good at this. Ask me another one.”

Drew massaged the pain between his eyes and resigned himself to a long interview as Chapman ground out, “Any tattoos?”

“No! That’s another one! You and me make a good team, man.”

Tension settled in Drew’s neck. Tuning out the kid, he tilted his head upward and to the right until he heard a tiny crack. Much better. Tilting to the left, he repeated the process, concentrating on the stiff spot in his neck as his gaze drifted along the upper corner of the wall. And stopped.

Without moving his head, he tapped a knuckle against Chapman’s shoulder until the agent turned with an irritated, “What?”

Drew pointed. Chapman’s gaze followed, then froze at the upper corner of the wall behind the clerk.

“You have a security camera,” he said.

The clerk glanced at the object of their fascination and shrugged. “Yeah.”

Drew exchanged cautious looks with Chapman before addressing the kid. “Does it work?”

“Sure. Wouldn’t do much good if it didn’t.” His expression said they were going to have to be brighter than that if they expected to find their man.

Chapman leaned over the counter and grabbed the kid by his bright red lapel. “Find the tape from the night before last. Now.”

The clerk’s blank, open-mouthed stare gradually took on the glimmer of intelligence. “Hey, good thinking! The dude is probably on there, isn’t he?”

“Let’s hope so,” Chapman muttered as he released the kid. “We deserve a break.”

They got more than they expected. Watching the flickering TV screen in the manager’s office, Chapman kept his finger on the remote’s fast forward button until Drew ordered, “Stop. There he is.”

On the silent, black and white film, a man showed his badge and spoke to the desk clerk.

“Hot damn,” Chapman exclaimed, leaning closer to the screen. “I know this guy. Tough attitude, chip on his shoulder. He got himself messed up pretty bad in a car wreck and was off work for close to a year. He can’t have been back more than a few months. If he’s been assigned to any of the same officials as Marlow, it should be easy to find out. Someone had to have recruited these guys.”

“The sooner we find out, the better,” Drew said.

Chapman already had his phone in his hands when it rang. Frowning at the readout, he answered with a growled, “I said no calls. This better be good.”

Drew listened with disinterest until he heard the agent’s startled, “You’re where?”

Curiosity turned to caution as he saw Chapman’s posture stiffen. Something had happened. Drew drummed his fingers on the manager’s desk until Chapman hung up.

“Your father and his secretary phoned Senator Pierson,” Chapman summarized as he began dialing another number. “Said they know who the blackmailer is. They’re in danger, so Renke and your friends went to get them.” He held his hand up as he snapped out a fax request to someone on the phone, then hung up. “We’ll join them as soon as I get the fax on this guy.”

Drew struggled to absorb the sudden developments. Somehow, his father had figured it out. The case was about to split wide open with his dad caught in the middle, holding the dangerous information that would expose some high-level government official. If the blackmailer knew, he would panic. His dad’s life was in danger, along with the lives of anyone with him.

His mind reeling with information, Drew focused on the part that mattered most—Lauren.

“Lauren’s with them?” The thought of her heading directly into a confrontation with the agents who’d shot at them hit Drew like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t put her in danger again.

“No, they left her at the house. Pierson volunteered to stay with her.”

Relief eased through him. Pierson wouldn’t be his first choice, but Lauren would be safe enough until he could get back to her. The worst he could say about Senator Pierson was that he was a lecherous ladies’ man. But unlike Senator Creighton, Pierson’s leering propositions were just an act. Probably.

“I have to get back to Lauren,” he said.

Chapman squinted at him in disbelief. “You did hear what I said, didn’t you? Your father is in danger. So is your girlfriend’s sister. Your girlfriend is safe.”

His girlfriend? Drew tested the word in his mind. No, Lauren wasn’t his girlfriend. She was far more than that. Somewhere along the way his instinct to protect her had slipped into a need to never let her go. And right now, rescuing his dad from certain danger took second place to assuring himself that Lauren was safe.

Like it or not, Chapman was going to have to drop him off at the house before rescuing Senator Creighton.

Drew held out his hand. “Give me the keys. I’ll have the car waiting at the door as soon as you get that fax.”

Chapman leveled a hard stare at him. “You’re not driving. And if you take off with a government car I’ll put you in jail.”

“I’m not stupid. I need something to do.” All he needed to do was put himself behind the wheel. Chapman could go to Maryland, but he’d be stopping in Georgetown first.

“I know the feeling.” Chapman tossed him the keys. “But don’t think I’m kidding about jail.”

Drew let the big, black Ford idle by the entrance, pondering the problem of how he could convince Lauren to commit herself to one man after showing her all the fun she’d missed by doing that very thing. To plan a future together after scoffing at her fondness for plans and procedures.

The irony was difficult to appreciate at the moment.

Drew’s thoughts scattered abruptly as the passenger door jerked open, then slammed behind Chapman.

“Drive!”

The edge of fear in Chapman’s voice was new. Without thinking, Drew responded to the urgency, ripping the car into gear and slamming his foot on the accelerator. Tires squealed as he barreled out of the driveway, barely pausing to check oncoming traffic. Still rocking from the turn, Drew drove his foot to the floor. Chapman reached down below the glove compartment and came up with a flashing red light. Lowering his window, he slapped the light onto the roof.

Damn. Drew blew through the next light.

Traffic was light this close to midnight. Swerving around an SUV, Drew spared a glance at Chapman. The agent’s mouth was set in a grim line as he reached for his seatbelt. Drew had a feeling the detour to Georgetown wasn’t going to go over well. Maybe he should just call Lauren to reassure himself.

“Turn here,” Chapman ordered. “We’re going to Georgetown.”

Cold knifed into him, then twisted in his gut. The emergency was in Georgetown.

“What happened?” he demanded.

He felt Chapman’s gaze from the passenger seat. “Look, I might be wrong. It could be nothing.”

If that was meant to be reassuring, it didn’t work. Drew knew enough about the methodical, organized Chapman to know the agent didn’t react like this to “nothing.”

“Goddamn it.” Drew growled. “What’s wrong?”

“The fax.” Chapman brandished the wrinkled paper he’d tossed on the seat next to him. “Our guy has spent all his time working in the identity theft department. He’s only had contact with one high-level official since he returned to work. And it’s a name that shows up repeatedly on Marlow’s résumé.”

They did it. They’d found the common denominator, the one person most likely to have selected the agents to aid him with the blackmail scheme.

Drew eased up on the accelerator until the car slowed to ninety, then took his eyes off the road long enough look at Chapman.

Chapman’s lip curled with distaste. “Senator Pierson.”

Drew swore. And floored it.

Pierson’s hand on her thigh made her skin crawl right through her robe. She jumped to her feet, tightening the flimsy belt as she did. “This is terribly inappropriate, entertaining company in my robe. If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll just go put some clothes on.”

She started toward the stairs, but a tug on the end of her belt reeled her back like a leash. “I disagree. You’ll be a lot more entertaining in your robe. Sit.” He patted the couch beside him and pulled on her arm firmly enough that she had to either sit or fall into his lap. She sat.

He was too close and his hand was back on her leg, just above her knee. It might have been a fatherly gesture if not for the avaricious gleam in the senator’s eyes. She wanted to slap his hand away, but had a bad feeling it would only be a signal to play rough.

She cleared her throat and steadied herself so her voice wouldn’t shake. “Senator, what’s going on?”

“What does it look like, Lauren? We’re finally getting to know each other without your watchdog getting in the way.”

Watchdog? “You mean Drew?”

“Nice boy but a bit too possessive. Too bad his father didn’t teach him to share.”

She tried to concentrate on what he was saying, but his hand had begun massaging her thigh. She reacted, pushing his hand away and smoothing her robe with short, nervous strokes. “You’ve been, uh, sharing with Senator Creighton?”

“Let’s just say he never seemed to mind when I dated his ex-girlfriends. Harlan’s not the possessive type.” His hand settled back on her leg, a little closer to her inner thigh than before.

Too many things were wrong with this situation. She lifted his hand this time, setting it firmly on his own thigh while giving him a direct look. “I thought you were married.”

He chuckled. “I know you’re not that naive, Lauren. Your sister certainly isn’t. But don’t worry about my wife causing problems. She’s glad I have my little distractions.”

“Ah. Thank you for clearing that up.” Oh God, what had Meg been doing? She remembered how Pierson had made no secret of his attraction to Meg, but she’d thought it was all a flirtatious act. “Senator, I’m not like Meg.” It was easy to make her voice firm when she was this sincere. “Not at all.”

His lips curved up. “That’s good to hear.” His voice was silky, and his mouth close enough for her to smell the nicotine on his breath. “Meg’s a tease, always putting me off. She’s been making me wait for too long. I’m glad to hear you’re not like that.” His hand was back, sliding into the curve of her thigh, as far as the robe permitted him to go.

Even without touching her skin, the move was far too intimate. She bolted from the couch like a horse from the starting gate, thinking fast. The only option was to play along until she could devise a way out.

She faced him, eyes hooded, smile deliberately calculating. Stalling. “I’m beginning to understand, Senator. So let’s set some ground rules.”

“The only rule is I’m in charge, and I’m going to fuck your brains out.”

Her heart lurched and her mouth went dry. It was hard to think when he said stuff like that but talking was better than doing. “Oh, yeah. Talk dirty to me.” She lowered her voice to a confidential whisper. “Tell me what you’re going to do.”

“I just did. Now let’s do it.”

A city full of blowhard politicians and she got the one man of action. Her mind was frantically clawing for escape when the cell phone on the table beside her startled her with a loud ring. Before Pierson could stop her, she snatched it up. “Hello?”

“Lauren! Thank God!” The relief in Drew’s voice was a contrast to Pierson’s scowl. The senator didn’t seem to like her being on the phone, which was all the more reason to stay on it.

“Hi, Jeff,” she sang out happily. “I was hoping you’d call.” She thought Pierson relaxed marginally, his eyes showing a flicker of suspicion.

Several seconds of silence crackled over the cell phone while she prayed Drew had enough confidence in her to know something was wrong.

“Is Senator Pierson in the room with you?”

“That’s right!” She smiled brightly, hoping Pierson couldn’t detect her sigh of relief. She couldn’t hide the nervous edge in her voice, but maybe that was a good thing. “How did you know?”

Pierson watched intently. She rolled her eyes for his benefit and mouthed, “My boyfriend,” as if slightly embarrassed to have one. His eyes narrowed, and she realized that making him think help was nearby could make it hard to stall him. “In Michigan,” she added, hoping distance would ease his mind.

“Renke told us about Pierson coming over. I know you’re alone with him.” She listened through another pause and realized Drew was choosing his words carefully. “Is everything okay there?”

Smiling at Pierson, she told Drew, “No, not at all!”

Drew swore. “Has he hurt you?”

“No.” She heard the blare of a horn followed by a screech that sounded like a car braking too fast. Chapman swore loudly in the background, making Lauren’s heart race.

“We identified the other agent,” Drew said, his voice as steady as if nothing had happened. “And there was only one official both agents had worked for—Pierson. We think he’s the blackmailer. I’ll bet he’s the guy who tried to run us down outside the embassy, too.”

“That’s not surprising.” She didn’t know how to explain herself in front of Pierson. They’d obviously misjudged him, but it didn’t seem like the blackmailer would tell them about Senator McNabb.

“Honey, I think he’s been using us to find them, but now we’re getting too many people involved and he has to stop it.”

She bit her lip and glanced at the Senator. “Oh.” Oh God. Suddenly Pierson’s phone call about Renke and the others being on their way, and his constant clock watching, took on new meaning. “Yeah, I think you’re right about that, honey.”

Pierson watched her closely. Every part of her. His gaze made a leisurely trip down the center of her terrycloth robe, all the way down to her bare feet. He might be the blackmailer, but she was certain that right now his crime of choice was adultery.

Pierson was fit and barely past fifty. She had no hope of fending him off if it came to force. Playing along would be risky, but it might keep him under control until one of the five men who’d been so determined to protect her showed up.

Stalling wouldn’t be enough. She could only think of one course of action, and it scared the shit out of her. Forcing a nonchalance she didn’t feel, Lauren sat on the arm of the sofa across from the Senator and crossed her legs. The robe fell open, revealing her bare legs from the upper thigh down. Pierson’s gaze fell and stayed there. She pretended not to notice his interest as she listened to Drew.

“Lauren, listen carefully, but don’t be scared. If we’re right, sending the others away was probably a trap. He needs to get rid of them in a way that won’t be connected to him.”

“Can’t you do anything about that?” She tried to make it sound like an unsightly mole that should be removed rather than three men who were most likely driving into an ambush.

“We’re working on it.” She could hear the frustration in his voice, and for a moment she felt bad for the situation Drew was in, torn between crises in two different directions. But just for a moment. She had her own crisis to worry about.

“Okay, honey.”

“Look, I don’t want to alarm you. You may be safe. He’s probably waiting for a call telling him they’ve been taken care of. Until that happens I don’t think he’ll touch you.”

“I don’t agree.”

Pierson looked at his watch, then checked the signal strength on his phone. Letting him get restless was not good. Swinging her leg, she allowed the robe to shift, exposing more thigh and giving Pierson a view that stopped a bare inch from her panties. He stared intently. He seemed to enjoy taking a good, long look before touching. In Drew, she would have appreciated it. In Pierson, it was disgusting. But the longer she kept him watching, the longer she avoided his hands on her.

“You don’t agree with what?” Drew was stuck on her last response. “That it was a trap?” When she didn’t answer, he tried again. “That he’s waiting for a call? That he won’t touch you?”

“That’s the one,” she told him.

“If that bastard lays one hand on you, I’ll kill him.” She heard a deep breath followed by one long exhalation as Drew made an attempt at control. “I’m calling for help.”

Lauren imagined the police arriving with sirens blaring. Afraid of pushing the senator into a violent reaction, she said, “That sounds noisy.” Scrunching her nose at Pierson, Lauren whispered, “He’s in a rock band. Very noisy.”

“Right,” Drew said. “No sirens.”

Pierson lifted his gaze, locking it on hers. Deliberately, he licked his lips. Lauren nearly gagged.

The last two inches of thigh must have been too much. He rose suddenly, walked to the window, and pulled the drapes closed. Then walked to the next window and closed those too.

Making her voice cheery, Lauren said, “So when will I see you again?”

“Fifteen minutes,” Drew growled. “Less if I can help it.”

She estimated Pierson to be ahead of Drew’s schedule.

“Lauren, Chapman’s calling for more agents right now. They’ll probably get there sooner than I can.”

Finished with the drapes, Pierson stood in front of her, close enough that her bare leg touched his pants. “Tell him you have to go now,” Pierson growled.

She could refuse, but he looked prepared to enforce his order. “I have to go now, Jeff,” she said brightly. “I’ll see you soon.”

Tires squealed through the phone again. Drew’s grim voice said, “Damn right you will, sweetheart.”

“Hang up,” Pierson ordered.

Playing along was harder when he towered over her and every instinct told her to fight or run, neither of which would work. She took a shaky breath and smiled as if nothing were wrong, as if he weren’t standing close enough to hear her heart hammering beneath her breast.

“’Bye,” she said into the phone and disconnected. It felt like standing on the deck of the Titanic and throwing away the last life preserver. She was on her own.

Pierson took the phone from her hand and put it in his pocket. “We don’t want any more interruptions.” His finger traced the edge of her robe from the collar to between her breasts. “Do we,” he added, not making it a question.

“Mmm,” Lauren hummed, because her mouth had gone so dry with fear she couldn’t form words. Time to kick up the action if he was going to believe her.

Gerald had told her how to win against Arrogant Government Assholes, and Pierson certainly fit the definition. All she had to do was play by his rules. But since Pierson’s rules seemed to include having sex with him, winning this one was going to require a lot of risk. And a lot of confidence.

She never would have attempted it before knowing Drew. But he’d given her something Jeff never had; he’d made her feel desirable. Sexy. Confident of her ability to drive a man insane with lust, then satisfy him to the point of exhaustion. She just needed to trust her instincts.

Sitting on the arm of the sofa put her at eye level with Pierson’s tie. Taking a deep breath, Lauren pasted on a smile and made herself stroke the tie, because that was far better than stroking him. “I don’t think there will be any more interruptions.”

“I’ll make sure of that.” He didn’t stop her from fondling his tie, but he watched her skeptically.

She lifted her gaze and came embarrassingly close to batting her lashes. “Sooo,” she crooned, “what kind of women do you like, Senator? Adventurous? Dominant? Submissive?” None of the above was probably too much to hope for.

“Which kind are you?” Dodging the question, typical politician.

“Maybe I’m whatever kind you want me to be,” she purred.

That sparked enough interest to make her regret leaving the choice up to him. “Willing and ready would be nice.” He fondled her hair with a thoughtful expression. “But not necessary.”

That about covered it all. She tried not to flinch from his hand as it brushed her cheek. “Willing and ready is easy. I was hoping we could get together from the first moment I saw you,” she murmured.

“Were you.” It was too cynical to be a question.

“I even fantasized about it. But not on a couch. I was thinking a bed might be better, and there’s several to choose from upstairs.”

“Honey, I hope you weren’t planning on the standard missionary position. There’s a lot you can do on a couch. I’ll show you.”

His leer sent her stomach into free fall, and she sincerely hoped this little stunt didn’t ruin her appetite for any of the plans she had for inventive sex with Drew. “It’s not so much the position I was thinking of. It’s the toys.”

“Sex toys?”

“Senator Creighton has a drawer full of them.”

He grinned. “That sly dog. I should have guessed.” He took her roughly by the shoulders, turning her toward the stairs. “Lead the way.” Before she could move he pulled her back against him, nuzzling her neck and growling, “I can’t wait.”

He grabbed her bottom for a pinch, which was all she needed to make her rush up the stairs and into Senator Creighton’s bedroom.

Pierson was right behind her. “Where are they?”

“Right here.” She opened the nightstand drawer and moved the tissue box, exposing the collection.

He looked. “Interesting. How did you know about these?”

She folded her arms because it put something between them and gave an illusion that she wasn’t one item of clothing away from naked. “Drew and I were, uh, looking for something to do.”

He gave her a wolfish smile. “Damn. You should have called me.”

“Well, you’re here now, Senator. And Drew’s not.”

And if her idea didn’t work, she was going to be wolf food.

His lip curved into a smug smile. “If we’re going to be friends, Lauren, you can call me Paul.” He emphasized friends in a way that gave it a whole new definition.

Lauren tipped her head and pretended to give it careful consideration. “Paul… hmm. I think I’d rather call you ‘senator.’ It’s so… commanding.”

It was a sickening performance, all coy and sweet, but he went for it. Unfortunately, he went for more, grabbing her by her upper arms and pulling her close. “That’s what you like, eh? A commanding lover?”

He’d been preparing; the scent of breath mints nearly knocked her out. “Yes,” she said, not having to try for a breathless whisper, since she was trying not to inhale. “But there seems to be a problem.”

He frowned. “What problem?”

“Look at you.” She patted his lapel, then stroked down his arms so he’d have to let go of her. “You’re wearing a suit. You’re fully dressed, and I’m…” She glanced at her robe before giving him another playful smile. “… not.”

He raked a hot look to the sash at her waist. “I noticed.” She anticipated his move for the belt and pushed him away. “Uh-uh, Senator,” she said, wagging her finger at him. “You first. I gave you a preview while I was on the phone, and now I want to see what I’m getting. After that,” she fondled her belt, “I’ll show you what you’re getting.” She purred seductively.

Yech. She was disgusting. Revolting. Afraid she’d overplayed the scene, Lauren prepared to laugh at herself.

She stopped just in time.

He was mesmerized. Staring at the loosely tied knot at her waist, he began unbuckling his belt. Dragging his shirt out of the way, he fumbled with the button on his pants, clumsy in his haste to get out of his clothes.

Too fast! At this rate he’d be naked and pawing at her robe before her posse of rescuers could even MapQuest the address.

“Whoa there, sugar, slow down.” Sugar? Lauren felt like she was channeling a hooker.

Pierson leered at her. “Just trying to show you the goods, doll. And once you see it, you’re gonna want it. Bad.”

“I’m sure I will.” Remarkably, she didn’t choke on the words. “But you have to tease a lady, take your time.” She wiggled a finger, indicating his chest. “Start with your shirt.”

He yanked his tie off in a couple quick moves. Starting in on the shirt buttons, he cocked his head at her. “I was kinda hopin’ you weren’t a lady, if you know what I mean.”

She didn’t, and preferred to leave it that way, but gave him a promising lift of her eyebrow.

The buttons were undone, and Lauren silently thanked God for the cuff links that slowed him down for half a minute before the shirt hit the floor. His undershirt fell on top of it.

Pierson took a moment to inhale deeply, puffing his densely furred chest at her. She supposed a compliment was expected.

“Very nice,” she said.

The side of his mouth curled in a roguish, James Dean way. “Women like a man with a hairy chest. You can touch it,” he invited.

“Mmm, that’s tempting, but I think I’ll wait and touch everything at once.” Where in the hell were those Secret Service agents?

“Then get ready to touch something special,” Pierson growled, and dropped his pants.

Lauren couldn’t miss the bulge in his boxers, and snapped her eyes shut before she blushed. Women like whoever she was pretending to be probably didn’t blush at the evidence of a man’s arousal. They probably gave it a frank stare. So she cracked her eyelids, hoping her slitted gaze resembled heated bliss, and looked at Pierson’s hip as he lowered the boxers.

She gave it a full five seconds, then met his eyes. And smiled. And the Oscar goes to Lauren Sutherland.

He grinned back, teeth bared. “Your turn,” he said.