HER SECRET, HIS DUTY Page 9
“That stinks,” he said softly.
Her lush lips curved up slightly in a wry smile. “Yeah, it did. But what’s equally as bad is that the support money allowed my mother the freedom to continue her party-girl lifestyle.”
She paused to take a drink of her cocoa and eyed him somberly over the rim of the cup. “Having an alcoholic mother made me grow up pretty fast. She died the year I graduated from college in a drunk-driving accident. She was the drunk driver.” She set her cup back down and Trey couldn’t stand it any longer, he reached out and took one of her hands in his.
Cold and small, he thought as he held tight in an attempt to warm it. “I’m sorry, Debra. I’m sorry that’s the life you were dealt.”
She squeezed his hand and then pulled hers away. “They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and in this case maybe it was true. I realized early on that I would not be following in my mother’s footsteps. I studied hard and during my free time I watched on television whenever Congress was in session. That’s when I first saw your mother, when she was serving out the last of your father’s term. I fell in love with her politics, with her style and strength. I researched everything I could about her and when I was ready I went to my father and told him all I’d ever ask of him was for him to somehow arrange for an interview for me to intern for your mother.”
She paused and drew a deep breath. It was the longest monologue Trey had ever heard from her. “And so he got you an interview with Mom,” he said.
“No, he said he’d do what he could do, but I knew by his dismissive attitude that he wasn’t going to do anything. So, I began a writing campaign to Kate. I wrote to her once a week, telling her why I’d be perfect working for her, what I would bring to the table as a valuable employee. I quoted bits and pieces of her speeches and told her why they had resonated with me.” She smiled. “I think she finally decided to interview me to cut down on her mail. Anyway, she took me on and I’ve never looked back since then. I don’t have any family but I feel like after all these years your mother has become my family.”
Trey had a feeling there was a lot of ugliness in her early life that she’d left out of her story. Having an absent father and being raised by an alcoholic mother had to have been more than just a little difficult.
“So, the truth of my past is that I’m just the illegitimate daughter of an immoral businessman, who, rumor has it, is doing some shady business, and an alcoholic mother who wound up killing herself in an accident of her own doing,” she finished. There was no bitterness in her voice. It was just a simple statement of facts.
“Those are just the circumstances of your birth and early life, but that doesn’t begin to describe who you are now,” Trey said, unable to hide his admiration for her. “I was lucky, I had a great role model in my mother, but my dad certainly tarnished the family name with his many affairs.”
“The pitfalls of public service,” she replied. “Sometimes I think most of the men in Washington have women on the side. A lot of them eventually get caught with their pants down, but a lot of them never get caught.”
“I won’t,” he said firmly. “I mean I shouldn’t have with you. I’m a one-woman man and when it comes time for me to marry, I won’t cheat. I saw what my mother went through when the scandal about my father broke. I saw how his lies and cheating broke her heart. Besides, despite what happened between us, I believe in monogamy—one man, one woman and a family.”
“Your mother rode out that scandal like the strong lady she is and went on to become vice president,” Debra replied. She eyed him soberly. “And I believe you’re cut from the same moral cloth as she is and that’s why you’ll be a great senator, a man who others will admire.”
For several long seconds their gazes remained locked. Trey had never wanted a woman as badly as he did Debra at this moment and he was certain he saw a spark of desire in the depths of her eyes, as well.
She was the one who broke the gaze with an uncomfortable laugh. “We’d better get focused on the work. After all, that’s why you’re here, to pin down all the final details on your dinner event.”
“Of course,” he replied, still fighting the intense desire she had stirred inside him without even trying. Why didn’t he feel this mind-numbing desire to touch, to taste, to make love to Cecily whenever he was with her? What was it about Debra that shot such heat through his veins and made his mouth hunger for hers?
He focused on the papers Debra shoved at him, papers showing tablecloths and dishes, silverware and glassware, but they were all a blur as he heard the snap and crackle of the fire in the fireplace, smelled that dizzying scent of Debra and imagined making love to her on the bright red throw rug in front of the warmth of the fire.
“Trey?”
He turned and stared at her and snapped out of his momentary vision of her naked and gasping beneath him. “Yeah, I think we definitely want classic white tablecloths.” He placed the paper with tablecloth colors to the side and stared at the dishware.
She leaned toward him, only making his concentration more difficult. The plates all seemed to blur together on the page, making it impossible for him to form a coherent decision.
“I think maybe the white plates with the black rims might be nice,” she offered after a moment of silence from him. “They look bold and masculine. It wouldn’t be a choice I’d usually make, but since this night is all about you, I think they’d be perfect.”
“Done,” he replied and moved on to the silverware page. What should have been easy decisions had become difficult with her seated so close and muddying his thoughts.
“These,” he pointed to a set of plain silverware with tapered ends and moved on to the last page. “And these glasses.” He set the paperwork down and reached for his cup, hoping a jolt of cocoa would wash all the inappropriate thoughts of her out of his mind.
“Good,” she said with a wide smile as she gathered the paperwork together and set it on the end table next to her side of the sofa. “Now all we have left to talk about are the centerpieces and whether you want an official podium or not.”
“Not,” he replied immediately. “I figure my speech is only going to be about fifteen minutes long and I’ll deliver it from my place at the head table.”
“Okay, then I’ll make sure we have a cordless microphone ready for you to use,” she replied. “And the centerpieces?”
“I’ll leave that to you, maybe something in black and white and crystal, but I don’t want anything big and ornate. It’s irritating to sit at a table and try to talk to somebody across some big plant or fancy centerpiece that is three feet high.”
She laughed and again a burst of desire washed over him. She had a beautiful laugh, rich and full-bodied. He picked up his cup again, needing to keep his hands busy so they wouldn’t reach out for her.
Other than that single moment when he thought he’d seen a spark of want in her eyes, she’d given him absolutely no indication that she’d be open to having anything to do with him other than on a business level.
He knew that he was here now only because he’d invited himself. Knowing her history with her mother, he was sure the last thing she’d want for herself was to become another quick hit for him on his way to his future.
And he didn’t want that, either. She deserved better than that and it was completely out of character for him to even think of such a thing. It didn’t fit with his vision for his future, it didn’t speak to the kind of man he thought himself to be, the man he wanted to be.
It was bad enough that they’d already made a mistake, sleeping with her again would only compound the error. He turned his attention to the dancing flames in the fireplace.
“I’ve got five fireplaces in my house and have never burned a fire in any of them,” he said.
“It’s one of my guilty pleasures,” she replied. “I order a cord of wood
in the fall so that I can enjoy a fire whenever I want to through the winter, although I rarely burn one during the week. How’s Cecily doing?” she asked, as if reading his thoughts and needing to mention the name of the woman he was certain to marry.
He turned his attention from the fire to her. “Cecily is fine. She’s excited about what she jokingly calls my coming-out party. She knows I’m going to declare my intentions to run for the Senate on the night of the dinner and then hold a press conference to follow up. Which reminds me, I have one more guest to add to the list for that night.”
Debra frowned. “It better be somebody important because I’ve almost finished a draft of the seating arrangements.”
“It is somebody important. It’s you. I want you to be there.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll be there well ahead of time to make sure that everything is in place for a successful night for everyone,” she replied.
“That’s not what I meant,” he protested. “I mean I want you there as an invited guest.”
“Oh, Trey, I don’t think—”
“It’s what I think that is important here,” he interrupted her. “I want you there as my guest, Debra. It’s important to me. You’ve done all the work, it’s only right that you enjoy the fruits of your labor.”
“I’ve enjoyed working on this project,” she said, as if that was enough.
“That’s nice, but it doesn’t change the fact that I want you there in attendance through the entire thing. If you don’t have anyone to bring as a guest, then we’ll seat you next to Chad Brothers at one of the tables. He’s already told me he’s coming alone and you’ll find him an entertaining companion who will regale you with stories of titillating political scandals and missteps that will make for fun entertainment.”
He saw the hesitance in her eyes but pressed on. “Please, Debra. For me. Put on a fancy dress and your dancing shoes. I’ll feel better giving my speech if I can look out and see your friendly face in the crowd.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll come.” She said the words as if he’d placed a great burden on her, but her eyes glittered as if secretly pleased.
“Great. It’s going to be a terrific night thanks to all your help. I know you got roped into this because of Mom, but I want to let you know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done to assure the success of the evening.”
“It’s been my pleasure,” she replied, her cheeks dusting with a faint blush.
“And I imagine that once this night is done you’ll just have time to barely catch your breath and Mom will announce.”
One of Debra’s light eyebrows shot upward. “Has she told you she’s definitely going to run?”
“Not specifically, but she did mention that she’s been invited to speak at a chamber of commerce Valentine’s Day ball and I have a feeling that’s when she’ll make her big announcement.”
“It’s all so exciting,” Debra said.
He nodded. “Exciting days for the Winston family. And now I should probably get out of your hair and let you enjoy what’s left of your night off.” He stood, oddly reluctant to go, and picked up his cup.
“Just leave that,” she replied. “I’ll take care of it.”
He put his cup down and walked with her to the foyer where she pulled his coat from the closet. He shrugged it on. “Just think, in about two weeks’ time you’ll be the belle of the ball.”
She laughed, that low and husky sound that stirred every sense he owned and surged desire through his veins. “I certainly doubt that, but I will enjoy being there.”
“I think you underestimate yourself, Debra,” he replied. She opened the door and he took one step out and then turned back to her, unable to halt the impulse he knew he’d later regret.
She gasped in surprise as he drew her into his arms and took possession of her mouth. She stiffened for just an instant and then melted against him, her mouth opening wider to invite him in.
She tasted just as he remembered, sweet and hot as their tongues met, moving together in an erotic dance of pleasure.
He wanted more from her, much more. He wasn’t sure where his desire came from, but it burned through him like a white-hot fire. It was she who broke the kiss, stumbling back from him with wide eyes. She raised a hand and touched her lips and then dropped her hand to her side.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Trey,” she said, her voice trembling slightly and holding a faint touch of censure.
“Yeah, I know.” Without saying another word, he pulled his coat collar up more tightly around his neck and stepped out into the cold night.
Chapter 7
It had been a bad week.
Actually, it had been one of the worst weeks of Debra’s life.
She felt as if for the past seven days she’d existed in the Twilight Zone. Not only had she had problems forgetting the unexpected kiss that Trey had planted on her the week before, but for the past week she’d felt as if some mysterious imp had entered her life to create utter havoc.
And the worst part about it was that she knew that she was the imp and felt as if she were slowly losing her mind.
As she pulled up Monday morning at the Winston Estate and saw that Jerry Cahill was on duty, she didn’t see how things could get any worse.
She stifled a deep sigh as he stopped her car and gestured for her to roll down her window and as usual he leaned into the car and smiled. “Hey, Debra. Did you have a good day off yesterday?” He smelled of a cloying cologne and the ever-present peppermint. The mixed scents twisted a faint nausea in the pit of her stomach.
“It was nice and quiet, just the way I like it.” In truth she had slept most of the day away and hadn’t even bothered with cooking anything except the frozen pizza that had been in her freezer for months.
“I have just one question to ask you on this fine morning,” he said.
“And what’s that?” Dread added to the slight nausea rolling around in her stomach. She wondered what he would do if she just hit the button to raise her window while his head was still stuck inside her car.
She nearly giggled as a vision of her driving around town with him hanging off her car like an additional rearview mirror filled her head.
“Why won’t you go out with me?” he asked, a twinge of impatience in his tone.
“It’s nothing personal, Jerry,” she fibbed. “I’m just too busy to date.”
He frowned. “You were dating that other guy a few months ago.”
“His name is Barry and he’s gone because I didn’t have time to date.” There was no way Debra wanted to tell him that she’d never go out with him because something about him set her teeth on edge and made her feel icky inside.
“You know I could show you a good time,” Jerry said.
“I’m sure you could,” she agreed. “But I’m not dating right now. I’m completely focused on my professional life. And now I’ve got work to do, so if you’d excuse me...”
He jerked away from the car as she pulled forward. She wondered if she should say something to Kate about his forwardness, but then dismissed the idea. Kate was already busy working on her speech for the Valentine’s Day night celebration and she had enough on her mind without handling a Secret Service man who was more than a little annoying, but certainly hadn’t been particularly out of line.
He just wanted to date her and she didn’t want to date him. End of story and no need to make a big drama out of it.
She parked her car and took a moment before getting out. She’d only been up for an hour and a half and already she was exhausted.
Of course, it didn’t help that three nights in the past week her sleep had been interrupted by hang-up phone calls in the middle of the night. It didn’t help that items kept disappearing and reappearing in her home, making her not able to trust her own sanity.
<
br /> She’d read everything available on the internet about pregnancy. She understood her exhaustion and the bouts of nausea when food was the last thing she wanted in the morning. She understood a little bit of absentmindedness was normal, but surely nothing to the extent of what she had been experiencing.
Pregnesia, indeed. What scared her more than anything was the possibility that for some reason she was having a nervous breakdown.
Maybe she was working too hard. Maybe she’d reached her limits in trying to pull off the party for Trey and process her pregnancy, and now her mind was playing tricks on her because of exhaustion and stress.
She hoped that wasn’t the case because if Kate followed through on deciding to run for president, Debra’s workload would triple. Hard work had never stressed her before. She loved what she did, so what was the problem?
She grabbed her purse from the seat next to her and shot a glance out of her rearview mirror to see Jerry still staring at her with a frown. Ignoring him, she left the car, grateful that nobody was in the kitchen when she stepped inside.
She didn’t feel like interacting with anyone at the moment. She just wanted to get to her office and close the door. Once she was behind her desk she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, playing over the disturbing events of the past week.
Absentmindedness was forgetting to return a phone call or that you’d put a load of clothing in the washing machine. It was not remembering to pull something out of the freezer to defrost for dinner.
It wasn’t a crystal paperweight that disappeared from the top of your desk and then reappeared where it belonged two days later. It wasn’t the dry cleaner’s calling to tell you that the suit you’d brought in for cleaning was ready for pickup when you had no memory of taking anything to the dry cleaner’s.
She was beginning to wonder if she was not only growing a baby in her belly, but maybe some sort of terrible brain tumor in her head, as well. She was starting to question her own sanity and the timing couldn’t be worse for her to be going crazy.