chapter one of HOT SECRETS
“What you need is a man.”
Lauren Reynolds groaned at her best friend’s far too loudly spoken suggestion, feeling as if one of the elegant chandeliers of the fancy New York ballroom had just become a spotlight. “Keep your voice down before someone hears you.”
“Touchy, touchy.” Julie chided, her baby blue eyes brimming with as much mischief as the deep V of her sparkling blue gown. “Why do you care what these people think?”
“I have to care, and you know it. These people are my father’s friends and colleagues, who happen to be here to celebrate his birthday. And enough with this ‘you need a man’ stuff you’ve been harping on all week. We can’t all be Marilyn Monroe look-a-likes who can thumb through men like a mailbox full of advertisements. I guess blondes do have more fun and us brunettes are stuck with chocolate and Marie Claire magazines.”
“How very boring.”
“Boring works for me. Between my father’s career and my work, I’m up to my neck with male egos and still sinking.”
Julie set her glass down on one of the several bars in a spacious room with tables filled with delicate finger foods, and plenty of spotlight chandeliers dangling above them. “Finally, we get to the root of the problem. Clearly, you’ve been locked up and sheltered in your daddy’s world too long. You’ve forgotten real men are not politicians.”
“I work for the District Attorney’s office, Julie.” Lauren bristled. “I’m about to go to trial on a murder case with the death penalty on the table, and it won’t be my first. I hardly call that ‘locked up and sheltered.’ And I’m hardly surrounded by nothing but politicians.”
“Oh, please. Not only is the DA an elected position, this particular DA is all about playing the game of politics, and you know that.” Julie studied Lauren a moment, her expression and tone softening before she added, “Look, honey, your lack of male companionship aside, I’m worried about my best friend. You need to get some rest and have some fun. Ever since you started prepping for this trial, you’ve been working around the clock. And before this one, there was another.”
“This one is big,” Lauren argued. “It’s—”
“They’re all big to you,” Julie said. “That’s why you’re getting assigned murder cases, not petty theft cases. You work insane hours without complaint, then pull ‘daughter’ duty like some sort of robot.”
“It’s his birthday, Julie.”
“Tonight I understand,” she said. “It’s the many other functions and I do mean many that he insists you attend, that you need to put a stop to.” She lowered her head and softened her voice. “You need a life that isn’t his, which brings me back to the ‘hot male’ category of this conversation, and no, I’m not talking the email version.”
“I just got out of a relationship. I don’t need another.”
“You didn’t just get out of anything. You dumped your cheating ex-fiancé, who was hotter for your father’s power than he was you, more than six months ago. And not without bruises to your emotions and your confidence, which makes me want to find the man and give him a good knee to the balls. I’ll just settle for helping you get back on the horse.”
“Julie,” she ground out. “I’m going to hurt you if you don’t zip it.”
“You’re beautiful and sexy,” she said, as if Lauren hadn’t even spoken, “and he made you feel like Ugly Betty when you’re Audrey freaking Hepburn. You need a hot man to carry you away and remind you that you are more than the sum of a courtroom or your father’s career aspirations on your behalf.”
Lauren snorted at that. “With my luck, I’d choose an undercover reporter who’d twist me into some sort of floozy, which would spiral into a scandal for my father.”
Julie’s eyes brightened mischievously and then widened with delight at her own thoughts. “Actually, Lauren, maybe that’s just what you need.”
“What the heck does that mean?” Lauren asked, frowning, pretty sure she knew what was coming. The push. Julie loved “the push,” what she called her closing arguments on anything, in or out of a courtroom.
“Your father’s about to retire, but he has that Kennedy family grandeur in his sights. He wants you to run for office. He’s not going to give up until he convinces you.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “So you see, a scandal can’t really hurt him, but it could help you dodge a political bullet.”
Lauren grimaced. “Apparently you’ve broken our golden rule of sobriety in public and had too much bubbly, because you’re talking craziness. I work for the District Attorney’s office. I have my own career to think about, too, and you know it.”
Julie pursed her perfect lips. “I don’t know anything of the sort. It’s not like you want to run for DA any more than you want to run for any other appointed office. And you’re in the public sector with a conviction rate that’s well above expectations, so you’re a golden girl.”
“Any scandal I bring to the office, I bring to the DA. Not to mention, I’m not exactly the scandal kind of girl.”
“Oh, good grief,” Julie grumbled. “I was just baiting you with the whole scandal thing, but the fact that you didn’t even get that is telling, and of what, I’m not sure.”
There was an announcement at the front of the room, something about cake and presents in half an hour. Lauren skimmed her hand down her out-of-character siren-red silk gown, her gaze catching on the dainty, silver watch on her wrist, the newest in a broad collection of gifts from her father. Apologies for working late, missing birthdays and any number of other things. She wondered what had earned her a gift on his birthday, and when she’d find out.
Julie touched her arm. “You okay?”
Lauren inhaled and let it out. “Fine. I’m fine. I just need more champagne.”
“Looking for a little tolerance for step-mommy dearest, I take it?”
“Don’t you know it,” Lauren agreed, dreading the inevitable ‘make-nice moments’ with her father’s trophy wife.
“Well, to heck with our sobriety pact,” Julie declared. “A bubbly dose of patience, coming right up.”
Several minutes later, Lauren sipped from a flute and waved at one of her father’s friends across the room. She wondered if the man really was a friend, or just someone jockeying for some position.
Julie leaned in close. “Oh honey, you’re waving at an old fuddy-duddy, so I’ve just waved my magic wand. I have the perfect male specimen to carry you away to orgasmic bliss. Mr. Make Every Woman Hot And Bothered himself is in the house.”
“I seem to remember you inferring only minutes ago that there were no men capable of such splendor at these types of events.”
“He’s your ‘midnight fantasy,’” she said, a wicked smile on her lips. “Or so a certain brunette told me just last weekend, after a few glasses of wine.”
Royce Walker. She was talking about Royce Walker. Lauren’s throat went dry at the mention of the sexy State Security Advisor, who also ran a private security company with his two brothers. And, most definitely, had been the object of her ‘midnight fantasies’ on more than one occasion. “He’s here tonight?”
“Over here, Royce!” Julie called out and then grinned. “He’s not only here, he’s headed our way. You can thank me later.”
“Oh dear God, Julie,” Lauren chided. “Why did you do that? I have enough stress tonight without this.” And damn it, she needed a little fantasy here and there. She didn’t want it ruined by real life.
“If you won’t take care of you, honey,” Julie said, reaching out and tugging Lauren’s bodice down an inch, “I will.”
“Good evening, ladies,” Royce greeted her from behind, his voice as rawly masculine as one would expect from a man with a body of a god and long raven hair he’d regretfully tied at his nape for an event such as this one.
Lauren pulled up her dress, and shot Julie a warning look. “We’ll be talking later.”
“Of course,” Julie said with a grin a moment before Royce stepped between them, towering over them. “Hey there, Royce.”
Lauren turned fully to greet him, having only an instant to take in his tuxedo, which fit him to perfection, before her gaze collided with his crystal blue stare. “Hello,” he said, his voice lower now, almost intimate.
“Hello,” she said, willing herself to say something more, but the unexpected direct eye contact sizzled her all the way to her toes and apparently stole her ability to process words.
“Shouldn’t you be somewhere keeping your brothers out of trouble?” Julie asked him.
“As tedious and impossible as that is,” he said, “it would be more pleasant than rubbing elbows with a bunch of wannabe movers and shakers. But duty sometimes requires a tuxedo and nerves of steel.”
Lauren gaped, her reaction instantaneous, her processing skills fully recovered. She might not approve of her father wholeheartedly, but she loved him. “You do know this is my father’s birthday party, right?”
“Ah,” Julie said. “I think I should say ‘Oops’ here because I thought you two had officially met. I’m assuming that’s not the case.”
Royce’s far too sensual lips curved slightly. “Nice to finally meet you ‘officially,’ Ms. Reynolds,” he said, extending his hand to Lauren. “Though we’ve certainly crossed paths at a few events.”
She ignored his hand. “You knew who I was, but you still made that comment about my father’s party?”
“When your father invited me here tonight, I suggested he cancel this monkey-suit event and have a family barbecue,” he said. “I even offered to bring the beer and my brothers for entertainment. He wasn’t interested. So yes, I knew who you were when I made the comment.”
“You told my father…” She shook her head. “Did you really?”
He held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor. And while I was never a scout, I was in the FBI for 7 years, so that’s close enough.”
“And how did my father reply to your suggestion?”
“He told me to ‘wear the damn monkey-suit and get your ass to my party.’”
She laughed. “Oh my God. That’s so my father. You really did tell him that.”
“I’m not known for my decorum, not even when I was a hostage negotiator.” He held out his hand. “Shall we try again? Nice to meet you, Ms. Reynolds.”
She liked him. He was so different from, well, everyone else here, and actually, quite like Julie. She slipped her palm against his, unprepared for the instant tingling awareness that rushed up her arm. “Lauren,” she managed, and to her dismay, her voice cracked. “Call me…Lauren.”
He brought her knuckles to his lips, his gorgeous blue eyes lifting to hers. “Lauren,” he repeated softly, before releasing her hand, and man, oh man, she wanted him to touch her again like she’d never wanted to be touched before.
“I see someone I need to talk to,” Julie said. “I’ll be back in a few.” With a turn, and a covert wink at Lauren that said she’d just made up the ‘someone to talk to’ as an excuse to leave Lauren alone with Royce, she disappeared.
Royce leaned an elbow on the bar. “How long have you two been friends?”
“Five years,” she said, happy to have a comfortable subject to talk about. “We met our last year of law school.” Lauren pushed herself up on a bar stool and crossed her legs, her dress riding up a bit above the knee, which she quickly righted.
Royce’s eyes dropped to follow the action, and a combination of nervousness and awareness rushed over her. “You two seem very different,” he commented, his gaze lifting to hers, his elbow settling on the bar.
“And that’s bad?”
“Not bad,” he said. “Just unique. Typically people are who they hang out with. But I guess you’re both attorneys, so that’s a common denominator.”
“I know plenty of attorneys I wouldn’t give the time of day to,” Lauren corrected. “Julie and I share basic values about what is right and wrong and a passion for helping people. Those things are more common denominators for us than one piece of paper that says we get to practice law.”
He arched a brow. “Isn’t she a divorce attorney?”
“She’s passionate about getting people out of bad marriages and into a new life. It’s not always what you do to make a difference, it’s that you really try to make a difference.”
“Sounds like a perfect campaign pitch to me.”
“And let me guess,” she said dryly. “You heard I was running for office from my father.” He gave a quick nod, and she shook her head. “Of course you did. I love my father, and I’ve supported his career, and I don’t regret that. But no matter how much he commands me to run for office, it simply isn’t going to happen. As in, ever. Under no circumstances.” She lowered her voice. “My life has been completely my father’s in so many ways because of his public position. That ends the day he leaves his office. You have no idea how much I crave that day.” The confession was out before she could stop it. She had no idea why she had revealed such a thing to this man, this stranger, but it was done and there was no turning back.
He stared down at her, studying her with unnerving intensity, as if he was reading her soul. He, and her confession, were inescapable. And so she found herself doing the same with him, openly assessing this man she found so alluringly different from anyone she’d ever been with before. The air expanded around them, shifted, thickened. The rest of the room faded away, lost to a sudden, intense crackle of electricity. “I think,” he said softly, “that I’d like to know more about you, Lauren Reynolds.”
Something wonderful, wild, and wicked stirred inside her with his words, with the heat in his expression—something wild, wicked, and oh so unfamiliar. This man didn’t fit that ‘safe’ profile she’d gravitated toward because it was expected of her. There was nothing safe about him, and a lot of that was exciting. But the idea of acting on her feelings sent a rush of tension through her. She bit her lip and cut her gaze to his chest. She might be confident in a courtroom, but she wasn’t Julie; she wasn’t a seductress who knew how to bring a man to his knees. She had Royce Walker’s attention and she didn’t know what to do with it.
Royce leaned closer, the spicy male scent of him flaring and filling her nostrils, and she fought the unexpected urge to reach out and touch him. “Am I making you nervous, Lauren?”
Her chin lifted, her gaze fixing on his, shocked that he’d read her so accurately. “You really do say whatever you’re thinking, don’t you?
“Is there a reason to do otherwise?”
She liked the answer. “You don’t make me nervous.” And he didn’t. She was insecure in ways she didn’t want to be, that she’d tried desperately to overcome since her broken engagement. But in the end, she was left afraid to believe anyone was authentic ever again, especially this man, who felt more real than any she’d ever met.
He searched her face a moment, and then offered her his hand. “Then dance with me.”
Before she could think to object, if she even would have, he was leading her toward the center of the room. Anticipation pulsed through her like a live charge. She was going to dance with Royce Walker, to feel his big body pressed close to hers, and she was pretty certain it would be politically incorrect to melt into a puddle of warm, wanting female in the center of her father’s birthday party. She was also pretty sure it was going to happen anyway.
***
Easing through the crowd, Royce repeated Lauren Reynolds’ words in his head. You have no idea how much I crave that day. She had no idea, all right. No idea how much he craved her. How enticed he was by her gorgeous pale skin, by the idea of stripping her naked and caressing that skin, tasting it, feeling every inch of it, and her, molded against him. Or how enticed he was by the way her eyes danced with little yellow flecks of color when she felt strongly about something she was saying. He wondered how they would look when she was aroused and wanting. Would they be greener? Darker?
They cleared the path to the dance floor, and Royce eased Lauren onto the tiled circle where random couples moved together to an orchestra number. He braced himself for the impact of touching her, then pulled her into his arms. Their eyes collided. The mutual attraction they shared that had passed between them in passing glances over the months since he’d taken a public position, wrapped them in warmth. But he’d known it would. On some level he’d always known this woman would impact him, that she would stir something inside him he wasn’t sure he remembered existing or feeling. What he’d not felt long before he’d joined the FBI fifteen years ago, when life inside the bureau had been everything, and yet somehow nothing. There was no denying that since he’d taken a more public role to promote Walker Security, the business he and his brothers ran, he’d been drawn to her each time their paths had crossed, no matter how casually or indirectly. Yet, he’d resisted approaching her, all too aware that he didn’t fit into her political world, that his step into the realm of politics was merely a business endeavor, while hers was a lifestyle. That was, until tonight, when she’d declared this world to be her father’s, not her own, and made it clear that everything he’d assumed about her had been wrong. Now tonight, life had pulled them together for all the wrong reasons.
She was small and soft in his arms, and nervous as hell no matter how much she denied it. And while he didn’t want to make her nervous, he liked knowing he affected her, though he shouldn’t, because she was off limits. He had no business flirting with her, no business wanting her, and he knew that. And yet, he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
She melted against him, her head settling on his chest, the soft vanilla and honey scent of her warming him inside out. He squeezed his eyes shut, despising his reason for being here tonight, but incapable of regretting that she was in his arms. He knew she wouldn’t stay there long, that she couldn’t stay there long. Because the minute he’d said ‘yes’ to this assignment, Royce had said ‘no’ to Lauren.
Lauren Reynolds groaned at her best friend’s far too loudly spoken suggestion, feeling as if one of the elegant chandeliers of the fancy New York ballroom had just become a spotlight. “Keep your voice down before someone hears you.”
“Touchy, touchy.” Julie chided, her baby blue eyes brimming with as much mischief as the deep V of her sparkling blue gown. “Why do you care what these people think?”
“I have to care, and you know it. These people are my father’s friends and colleagues, who happen to be here to celebrate his birthday. And enough with this ‘you need a man’ stuff you’ve been harping on all week. We can’t all be Marilyn Monroe look-a-likes who can thumb through men like a mailbox full of advertisements. I guess blondes do have more fun and us brunettes are stuck with chocolate and Marie Claire magazines.”
“How very boring.”
“Boring works for me. Between my father’s career and my work, I’m up to my neck with male egos and still sinking.”
Julie set her glass down on one of the several bars in a spacious room with tables filled with delicate finger foods, and plenty of spotlight chandeliers dangling above them. “Finally, we get to the root of the problem. Clearly, you’ve been locked up and sheltered in your daddy’s world too long. You’ve forgotten real men are not politicians.”
“I work for the District Attorney’s office, Julie.” Lauren bristled. “I’m about to go to trial on a murder case with the death penalty on the table, and it won’t be my first. I hardly call that ‘locked up and sheltered.’ And I’m hardly surrounded by nothing but politicians.”
“Oh, please. Not only is the DA an elected position, this particular DA is all about playing the game of politics, and you know that.” Julie studied Lauren a moment, her expression and tone softening before she added, “Look, honey, your lack of male companionship aside, I’m worried about my best friend. You need to get some rest and have some fun. Ever since you started prepping for this trial, you’ve been working around the clock. And before this one, there was another.”
“This one is big,” Lauren argued. “It’s—”
“They’re all big to you,” Julie said. “That’s why you’re getting assigned murder cases, not petty theft cases. You work insane hours without complaint, then pull ‘daughter’ duty like some sort of robot.”
“It’s his birthday, Julie.”
“Tonight I understand,” she said. “It’s the many other functions and I do mean many that he insists you attend, that you need to put a stop to.” She lowered her head and softened her voice. “You need a life that isn’t his, which brings me back to the ‘hot male’ category of this conversation, and no, I’m not talking the email version.”
“I just got out of a relationship. I don’t need another.”
“You didn’t just get out of anything. You dumped your cheating ex-fiancé, who was hotter for your father’s power than he was you, more than six months ago. And not without bruises to your emotions and your confidence, which makes me want to find the man and give him a good knee to the balls. I’ll just settle for helping you get back on the horse.”
“Julie,” she ground out. “I’m going to hurt you if you don’t zip it.”
“You’re beautiful and sexy,” she said, as if Lauren hadn’t even spoken, “and he made you feel like Ugly Betty when you’re Audrey freaking Hepburn. You need a hot man to carry you away and remind you that you are more than the sum of a courtroom or your father’s career aspirations on your behalf.”
Lauren snorted at that. “With my luck, I’d choose an undercover reporter who’d twist me into some sort of floozy, which would spiral into a scandal for my father.”
Julie’s eyes brightened mischievously and then widened with delight at her own thoughts. “Actually, Lauren, maybe that’s just what you need.”
“What the heck does that mean?” Lauren asked, frowning, pretty sure she knew what was coming. The push. Julie loved “the push,” what she called her closing arguments on anything, in or out of a courtroom.
“Your father’s about to retire, but he has that Kennedy family grandeur in his sights. He wants you to run for office. He’s not going to give up until he convinces you.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “So you see, a scandal can’t really hurt him, but it could help you dodge a political bullet.”
Lauren grimaced. “Apparently you’ve broken our golden rule of sobriety in public and had too much bubbly, because you’re talking craziness. I work for the District Attorney’s office. I have my own career to think about, too, and you know it.”
Julie pursed her perfect lips. “I don’t know anything of the sort. It’s not like you want to run for DA any more than you want to run for any other appointed office. And you’re in the public sector with a conviction rate that’s well above expectations, so you’re a golden girl.”
“Any scandal I bring to the office, I bring to the DA. Not to mention, I’m not exactly the scandal kind of girl.”
“Oh, good grief,” Julie grumbled. “I was just baiting you with the whole scandal thing, but the fact that you didn’t even get that is telling, and of what, I’m not sure.”
There was an announcement at the front of the room, something about cake and presents in half an hour. Lauren skimmed her hand down her out-of-character siren-red silk gown, her gaze catching on the dainty, silver watch on her wrist, the newest in a broad collection of gifts from her father. Apologies for working late, missing birthdays and any number of other things. She wondered what had earned her a gift on his birthday, and when she’d find out.
Julie touched her arm. “You okay?”
Lauren inhaled and let it out. “Fine. I’m fine. I just need more champagne.”
“Looking for a little tolerance for step-mommy dearest, I take it?”
“Don’t you know it,” Lauren agreed, dreading the inevitable ‘make-nice moments’ with her father’s trophy wife.
“Well, to heck with our sobriety pact,” Julie declared. “A bubbly dose of patience, coming right up.”
Several minutes later, Lauren sipped from a flute and waved at one of her father’s friends across the room. She wondered if the man really was a friend, or just someone jockeying for some position.
Julie leaned in close. “Oh honey, you’re waving at an old fuddy-duddy, so I’ve just waved my magic wand. I have the perfect male specimen to carry you away to orgasmic bliss. Mr. Make Every Woman Hot And Bothered himself is in the house.”
“I seem to remember you inferring only minutes ago that there were no men capable of such splendor at these types of events.”
“He’s your ‘midnight fantasy,’” she said, a wicked smile on her lips. “Or so a certain brunette told me just last weekend, after a few glasses of wine.”
Royce Walker. She was talking about Royce Walker. Lauren’s throat went dry at the mention of the sexy State Security Advisor, who also ran a private security company with his two brothers. And, most definitely, had been the object of her ‘midnight fantasies’ on more than one occasion. “He’s here tonight?”
“Over here, Royce!” Julie called out and then grinned. “He’s not only here, he’s headed our way. You can thank me later.”
“Oh dear God, Julie,” Lauren chided. “Why did you do that? I have enough stress tonight without this.” And damn it, she needed a little fantasy here and there. She didn’t want it ruined by real life.
“If you won’t take care of you, honey,” Julie said, reaching out and tugging Lauren’s bodice down an inch, “I will.”
“Good evening, ladies,” Royce greeted her from behind, his voice as rawly masculine as one would expect from a man with a body of a god and long raven hair he’d regretfully tied at his nape for an event such as this one.
Lauren pulled up her dress, and shot Julie a warning look. “We’ll be talking later.”
“Of course,” Julie said with a grin a moment before Royce stepped between them, towering over them. “Hey there, Royce.”
Lauren turned fully to greet him, having only an instant to take in his tuxedo, which fit him to perfection, before her gaze collided with his crystal blue stare. “Hello,” he said, his voice lower now, almost intimate.
“Hello,” she said, willing herself to say something more, but the unexpected direct eye contact sizzled her all the way to her toes and apparently stole her ability to process words.
“Shouldn’t you be somewhere keeping your brothers out of trouble?” Julie asked him.
“As tedious and impossible as that is,” he said, “it would be more pleasant than rubbing elbows with a bunch of wannabe movers and shakers. But duty sometimes requires a tuxedo and nerves of steel.”
Lauren gaped, her reaction instantaneous, her processing skills fully recovered. She might not approve of her father wholeheartedly, but she loved him. “You do know this is my father’s birthday party, right?”
“Ah,” Julie said. “I think I should say ‘Oops’ here because I thought you two had officially met. I’m assuming that’s not the case.”
Royce’s far too sensual lips curved slightly. “Nice to finally meet you ‘officially,’ Ms. Reynolds,” he said, extending his hand to Lauren. “Though we’ve certainly crossed paths at a few events.”
She ignored his hand. “You knew who I was, but you still made that comment about my father’s party?”
“When your father invited me here tonight, I suggested he cancel this monkey-suit event and have a family barbecue,” he said. “I even offered to bring the beer and my brothers for entertainment. He wasn’t interested. So yes, I knew who you were when I made the comment.”
“You told my father…” She shook her head. “Did you really?”
He held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor. And while I was never a scout, I was in the FBI for 7 years, so that’s close enough.”
“And how did my father reply to your suggestion?”
“He told me to ‘wear the damn monkey-suit and get your ass to my party.’”
She laughed. “Oh my God. That’s so my father. You really did tell him that.”
“I’m not known for my decorum, not even when I was a hostage negotiator.” He held out his hand. “Shall we try again? Nice to meet you, Ms. Reynolds.”
She liked him. He was so different from, well, everyone else here, and actually, quite like Julie. She slipped her palm against his, unprepared for the instant tingling awareness that rushed up her arm. “Lauren,” she managed, and to her dismay, her voice cracked. “Call me…Lauren.”
He brought her knuckles to his lips, his gorgeous blue eyes lifting to hers. “Lauren,” he repeated softly, before releasing her hand, and man, oh man, she wanted him to touch her again like she’d never wanted to be touched before.
“I see someone I need to talk to,” Julie said. “I’ll be back in a few.” With a turn, and a covert wink at Lauren that said she’d just made up the ‘someone to talk to’ as an excuse to leave Lauren alone with Royce, she disappeared.
Royce leaned an elbow on the bar. “How long have you two been friends?”
“Five years,” she said, happy to have a comfortable subject to talk about. “We met our last year of law school.” Lauren pushed herself up on a bar stool and crossed her legs, her dress riding up a bit above the knee, which she quickly righted.
Royce’s eyes dropped to follow the action, and a combination of nervousness and awareness rushed over her. “You two seem very different,” he commented, his gaze lifting to hers, his elbow settling on the bar.
“And that’s bad?”
“Not bad,” he said. “Just unique. Typically people are who they hang out with. But I guess you’re both attorneys, so that’s a common denominator.”
“I know plenty of attorneys I wouldn’t give the time of day to,” Lauren corrected. “Julie and I share basic values about what is right and wrong and a passion for helping people. Those things are more common denominators for us than one piece of paper that says we get to practice law.”
He arched a brow. “Isn’t she a divorce attorney?”
“She’s passionate about getting people out of bad marriages and into a new life. It’s not always what you do to make a difference, it’s that you really try to make a difference.”
“Sounds like a perfect campaign pitch to me.”
“And let me guess,” she said dryly. “You heard I was running for office from my father.” He gave a quick nod, and she shook her head. “Of course you did. I love my father, and I’ve supported his career, and I don’t regret that. But no matter how much he commands me to run for office, it simply isn’t going to happen. As in, ever. Under no circumstances.” She lowered her voice. “My life has been completely my father’s in so many ways because of his public position. That ends the day he leaves his office. You have no idea how much I crave that day.” The confession was out before she could stop it. She had no idea why she had revealed such a thing to this man, this stranger, but it was done and there was no turning back.
He stared down at her, studying her with unnerving intensity, as if he was reading her soul. He, and her confession, were inescapable. And so she found herself doing the same with him, openly assessing this man she found so alluringly different from anyone she’d ever been with before. The air expanded around them, shifted, thickened. The rest of the room faded away, lost to a sudden, intense crackle of electricity. “I think,” he said softly, “that I’d like to know more about you, Lauren Reynolds.”
Something wonderful, wild, and wicked stirred inside her with his words, with the heat in his expression—something wild, wicked, and oh so unfamiliar. This man didn’t fit that ‘safe’ profile she’d gravitated toward because it was expected of her. There was nothing safe about him, and a lot of that was exciting. But the idea of acting on her feelings sent a rush of tension through her. She bit her lip and cut her gaze to his chest. She might be confident in a courtroom, but she wasn’t Julie; she wasn’t a seductress who knew how to bring a man to his knees. She had Royce Walker’s attention and she didn’t know what to do with it.
Royce leaned closer, the spicy male scent of him flaring and filling her nostrils, and she fought the unexpected urge to reach out and touch him. “Am I making you nervous, Lauren?”
Her chin lifted, her gaze fixing on his, shocked that he’d read her so accurately. “You really do say whatever you’re thinking, don’t you?
“Is there a reason to do otherwise?”
She liked the answer. “You don’t make me nervous.” And he didn’t. She was insecure in ways she didn’t want to be, that she’d tried desperately to overcome since her broken engagement. But in the end, she was left afraid to believe anyone was authentic ever again, especially this man, who felt more real than any she’d ever met.
He searched her face a moment, and then offered her his hand. “Then dance with me.”
Before she could think to object, if she even would have, he was leading her toward the center of the room. Anticipation pulsed through her like a live charge. She was going to dance with Royce Walker, to feel his big body pressed close to hers, and she was pretty certain it would be politically incorrect to melt into a puddle of warm, wanting female in the center of her father’s birthday party. She was also pretty sure it was going to happen anyway.
***
Easing through the crowd, Royce repeated Lauren Reynolds’ words in his head. You have no idea how much I crave that day. She had no idea, all right. No idea how much he craved her. How enticed he was by her gorgeous pale skin, by the idea of stripping her naked and caressing that skin, tasting it, feeling every inch of it, and her, molded against him. Or how enticed he was by the way her eyes danced with little yellow flecks of color when she felt strongly about something she was saying. He wondered how they would look when she was aroused and wanting. Would they be greener? Darker?
They cleared the path to the dance floor, and Royce eased Lauren onto the tiled circle where random couples moved together to an orchestra number. He braced himself for the impact of touching her, then pulled her into his arms. Their eyes collided. The mutual attraction they shared that had passed between them in passing glances over the months since he’d taken a public position, wrapped them in warmth. But he’d known it would. On some level he’d always known this woman would impact him, that she would stir something inside him he wasn’t sure he remembered existing or feeling. What he’d not felt long before he’d joined the FBI fifteen years ago, when life inside the bureau had been everything, and yet somehow nothing. There was no denying that since he’d taken a more public role to promote Walker Security, the business he and his brothers ran, he’d been drawn to her each time their paths had crossed, no matter how casually or indirectly. Yet, he’d resisted approaching her, all too aware that he didn’t fit into her political world, that his step into the realm of politics was merely a business endeavor, while hers was a lifestyle. That was, until tonight, when she’d declared this world to be her father’s, not her own, and made it clear that everything he’d assumed about her had been wrong. Now tonight, life had pulled them together for all the wrong reasons.
She was small and soft in his arms, and nervous as hell no matter how much she denied it. And while he didn’t want to make her nervous, he liked knowing he affected her, though he shouldn’t, because she was off limits. He had no business flirting with her, no business wanting her, and he knew that. And yet, he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
She melted against him, her head settling on his chest, the soft vanilla and honey scent of her warming him inside out. He squeezed his eyes shut, despising his reason for being here tonight, but incapable of regretting that she was in his arms. He knew she wouldn’t stay there long, that she couldn’t stay there long. Because the minute he’d said ‘yes’ to this assignment, Royce had said ‘no’ to Lauren.