Our Little Secret Part 15

"Shhh!" Gerald flapped his hands at them for silence.

A woman's voice narrated, "-was arrested as he left the Romanian Emba.s.sy 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."

"b.i.t.c.h," 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 crus.h.i.+ng the microphone.

The foyer wall was at her back, and Drew's face was in front of her. Anger flattened the s.e.xy 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, pus.h.i.+ng 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.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"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. G.o.d, 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 b.r.e.a.s.t.s picked up the warm tingle from below and arched toward him. If he would just lean a little closer...

He did, his chest brus.h.i.+ng 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 s.h.i.+vers 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 a.s.s. "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 a.s.s. 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."

"d.a.m.n," 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.

CHAPTER Eight.

"For heaven's sake, Lauren, I'm at work. Is this important?"

Jeff's dedication to Duchaine Properties was admirable and she'd never infringed on his work time before. "Yes, it's terribly important. I'm having doubts, Jeff." Scooting the senator's office chair closer to the desk, she clutched the phone in a white-knuckled grip, waiting for his reply.

"Why would you have doubts? I thought we already decided you're coming home." He hated indecision, and she could hear it in his voice.

"Not about that. About us."

"What do you mean, us? Our plans? Oh, I see. This is about not being able to visit Uncle John and Aunt Betty, isn't it? That's a good point. Maybe you should go there before you come home."

"No, no," she cut in. "I'm having doubts about our relations.h.i.+p."

After a moment of tense silence during which she heard his desk chair squeak as he sat down, he spoke cautiously. "I don't think I understand. What sort of doubts?"

Lauren instantly recalled the blinding hot desire that had ripped through her at Drew's kiss. "Don't you ever feel that something is missing between us, Jeff?"

"Does this have something to do with that emba.s.sy party? It must have been glamorous, maybe seductively so. Are you dissatisfied with our social life?"

She sighed. "No, Jeff. I'm not talking about our social life." Although now that she thought about it, there was room for improvement there, too. "I mean, don't you feel something is missing in our personal relations.h.i.+p? Something spontaneous and pa.s.sionate?"

"We aren't teenagers, Lauren." His words came out in a careful, slow cadence, as if she had become too dense to comprehend his regular speech pattern. "We are mature adults who know how to exercise control. Pa.s.sion fades. You need a steady, dependable relations.h.i.+p."

"I thought I did," she murmured.

Jeff's voice was soothing. "We do have pa.s.sion, darling. It's simply not something one indulges outside the proper time and place. You know I have always been impressed with the example you tried to set for your sister, showing her that it was possible to build a strong, steady relations.h.i.+p rather than hopping from one bed to another." He paused. "Is this about Meg? Does something about her wild life in Was.h.i.+ngton actually seem appealing to you?"

"No, it has nothing to do with Meg or Was.h.i.+ngton."

There was a longer hesitation this time. "This isn't about phone s.e.x again, is it?" When she didn't answer right away, she knew he'd made the leap to something even more worrisome. "Lauren, please tell me there's not some other technique you want to try."

She rubbed the frown lines that crossed her forehead. "No, it's not about phone s.e.x. It's about us us. It's about me me. I didn't realize I could feel a pa.s.sionate attraction to someone else, Jeff. An attraction I don't want to resist. But it turns out that I can, and that means something must be missing in our relations.h.i.+p."

"Who is he, Lauren?" Jeff's voice had gone flat with anger. Controlled anger. "That philandering son of Meg's boss? Does he seem appealing to you and your new, liberated s.e.xual ideas?"

"It doesn't matter who. What matters is that I don't feel that with you, and I want to feel it."

"Are you talking about breaking up?" His voice rose with disbelief. "That's absurd, we have plans. Do you know how much that will disappoint our families? My mother has already arranged for you to be invited to join the Luncheon Ladies at the club."

"The what? Jeff, I'm not interested in that kind of stuff."

"Why? Because you're more interested in phone s.e.x?"

"For G.o.d's sake, forget the phone s.e.x." She sighed. "I'm not the right woman for you. Staying engaged, keeping you from someone else, would be selfish. You deserve to find someone who can be as"-don't say dry and colorless, she cautioned herself-"as mature and controlled as you are." she cautioned herself-"as mature and controlled as you are."

"I did find someone like that. Or at least, I thought I did." His voice became bitter. "But I guess I was wrong. Do you really want to throw away three years of our lives?"

I already have, she thought. I just don't want it to be more I just don't want it to be more.

"I'm sorry," she said with honest regret. "This won't work. I gave in to whatever you wanted for three years. I'm done."

She'd expected that admission to hurt, but it felt surprisingly good.

Irritation crept into his voice. "What's happened to you, Lauren? You've always been so levelheaded. I don't know what's gotten into you." He used what he thought was his worst threat. "Do you want to turn into Meg?"

Did she? Did she want to follow her impulses instead of worrying about what was sensible and practical? Did she want to be like her sister and wear black stockings and thong underpants? Did she want to have a pa.s.sionate affair with a man who was interested in her uninhibited, impractical side? Visions of Drew wearing nothing but her bedsheets and kissing her into that promised pool of wet desire scorched her mind.

"Yes, that's exactly what I want."

"Fine." It had only taken him a few seconds to adjust to it. "Then I guess it's best that we break up because I don't want to be married to a woman like Meg. I certainly couldn't have a woman like that hosting dinner parties and taking tennis lessons at the club, so I guess I should thank you for admitting this to me before it's too late."

He made marriage to him sound like a death sentence, which was probably pretty accurate.