Dangerous Secrets (30 page)

Julie looked around Luke’s kitchen, eying Luke’s brothers and Lauren, with an odd feeling of belonging she’d never before experienced. She sat on Luke’s lap, as Lauren did Royce’s. Blake, as usual, was eating, stuffing his third donut in his mouth. To watch them together made her experience a little part of something warm and wonderful that she had never known. To be with them helped make the night’s tragedy just a little more bearable.

“Have a donut,” Blake said to Julie pushing the box in her direction.

“I’m too tired to eat,” she said.

“I’m never too tired to eat,” Blake commented, and the room broke into laughter.

“Yes, we know,” Julie said smiling.

Blake finished off his donut and stood up. “Time for beddy-bye.”

“Us too,” Royce said and Lauren climbed off his lap.

“I know you’re tired,” Lauren said to Julie, “but tomorrow let’s talk about you leaving divorce behind and coming to work with my new firm.”

“Yes,” Julie said. “I’d like that.” She was ready to leave the past behind, ready to take some risks.

Goodbyes were said, and soon Julie was alone with Luke. She had no idea what had gotten into her, but now that she’d taken the step to confess her love for Luke, she was feeling daring all over again.

“Luke,” she said, caressing his cheek. “Will you marry me?”

Luke stared at her, a stunned look on his face before his lips curved into a smile. “You know you just stole my thunder, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Us macho Walker men like to go down on one knee and propose properly. And I’m supposed to have the ring first.”

“Oh, right,” she said, smiling at his response. “So, now what do we do?”

He set her on her feet and then back in the chair and went down on one knee. “Julie. Will you marry me?”

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling like she was home for the first time in her life.

THE END

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UNDER HIS PROTECTION
 

Chapter One

“I can’t believe you did this.”

Blake Hewitt stared at her hands clutched in her lap, the sound of her father’s angry voice making her throat close. She refused to look up, didn’t want to see the disappointment written all over his face.

She’d seen enough of that to last a lifetime.

“Why did you do it, Blake? You know how delicate circumstances are. The election’s in a couple of weeks and we’ve been struggling. Then you go and do this.”

The loud slap of the magazine hitting the center of his desk sounded and Blake jumped in her seat. Gritting her teeth, her lids lifted, allowing her gaze to focus on the tabloid magazine facing her.

With a candid shot of her on the cover in a most provocative pose. The headline screamed, “Blake Hewitt Revealed!”

She looked away. It hurt too much to remember that night. A night that had been all in good fun with the few close friends she had.

Her friend Shannon invited her over for a barbecue and swimming. Not necessarily unusual in D.C. when the city was in the throes of an Indian summer. She had a few drinks, become a little loose. Stripped down to her American flag bikini—the swimsuit chosen since it was just so ironic, she couldn’t resist—she’d been hot and wanted to jump in the pool. Hey, she was amongst friends, so why not?

But she hadn’t been amongst friends. The photo on the cover of the popular trashy magazine more than proved that. And the two-page spread filled with various photos within the tabloid confirmed it.

She could trust no one.

Blake frowned, sadness filling her. She hoped whoever sold the pictures was well compensated. She hoped the money they made had been worth it.

“Where in the world were you anyway?” her father demanded.

“It was a party at Shannon’s house. You remember Shannon, don’t you?” Shannon’s father had been a diplomat and they’d known each other since they were teens. “It was a small gathering, just a few friends.”

“People you didn’t know were there.”

“And people I did know. I thought…” Blake paused, swallowed hard. “I thought I could trust them.” She winced when she heard her father’s disbelieving grunt.

“Please. Haven’t I told you before you can’t trust anyone? The campaign’s winding down and we’re being scrutinized like bugs under a microscope.” Her father grunted with disgust. “I swear, it’s like you did this on purpose. Mocking our country with the stripes of the American flag draped across your…posterior, stars placed directly over your…God.”

Flinching, she finally looked up at her father, watched as he scrubbed a hand over his face. He was exhausted. The election campaign was taking a toll on his health and mental state. She wished she could comfort him, give him a hug and whisper she was sorry.

But he would just push her away like he always did. He wouldn’t believe her. In his eyes, she always screwed up. Always made a mess of things, and this latest endeavor was no exception.

He still hadn’t forgiven her when she graduated from college with a degree in political science and instead chose to work in a museum. She’d earned that degree only to make him happy, obtaining her minor in art history to please herself.

She was working on her father’s campaign because he asked her, trying yet again to please him. How she hated being in the public eye. The attention, the photographers, all of it made her agitated, withdrawn. Many believed she was a snob.

At least the media wouldn’t call her the ice queen any longer. Now she was the new party girl.

She didn’t know which moniker was worse.

“The president called a meeting with the immediate staff. We’re creating a plan of attack—all because of this cover.” James Hewitt stabbed the magazine with his finger. “I can only hope we’ll be able to salvage the last few weeks of the campaign. We’re going to have to work extra hard now.”

Despair filled her. The president had become involved? The very last person she wanted to offend. “I didn’t know this was going to happen. It was just an innocent moment, some fun by the pool with friends,” she said, feeling stupid. “I’m sorry.”

Her father glared but didn’t say a word, ignoring her apology completely.

Disappointment flooded her. No matter what she said or did, she could never please him.

“You’ve gone too far, Blake,” her father finally said, his voice low as he watched her, his expression stony.

“They must’ve used a camera phone. I never noticed anyone taking pictures.” She glanced at the offending photo. The quality wasn’t that great. The angle was awkward and slightly out of focus. “Why would anyone sell pictures of me anyway?”

Okay, she knew why. Easy money, plain and simple. A seemingly innocent, fun evening had turned into a huge deal. A giant mistake.

One she could never repeat again.

“Honey, everyone cares about what you do these days. You’re young, single, pretty and in the public eye constantly. They make pointless reality stars into the next biggest thing, so why can’t they do the same to you?”

Her father had a valid point. One she didn’t like to face.

“Just send me away,” she said, her voice soft, pleading. “I’ve done more harm than good, and I’m sorry. I know you don’t want me here.” It hurt to admit that, but she spoke the truth. He didn’t want her around, not really. When was she going to get it through her thick skull?

Her father didn’t care about her. He was obsessed with his campaign, his career, his public appearance. Garnering his attention resulted in his disapproval, no matter what she did.
 

“And where the hell was Russell?” her father asked, startling her from her thoughts. “Why didn’t he stop you from making a mockery of yourself?”

She couldn’t help the warmth that suffused her at the mention of Mason Russell’s name, despite her father’s insulting tone. She barely contained the shiver that stole over her.

“He was there.” Oh yes, he’d been there, in the shadows, always discreet. He’d stood outside, his big hands clasped in front of him, sunglasses hiding his spring green eyes. She had no idea if he’d watched her since he always wore those damn glasses.

But she swore his gaze had followed her every move that afternoon. Felt the hot, ravenous stare of the Secret Service agent assigned to her protection like his hands had literally touched her. Drop-dead gorgeous, the man was one-hundred-percent off limits. Besides, he never seemed to notice her anyway, despite her constant, pitiful attempts trying to get his attention.

The overenthusiastic political zealots who trailed after her family during the campaign were the reason she’d been given extra protection in the first place. An official executive order had come down six months ago.

She was glad for the protection. People went a little crazy over politics, especially considering the current economic climate. She certainly didn’t think her life was in danger, but she did feel safer having Agent Russell watching over her.

He had no idea she had a crush on him—and she wasn’t about to tell him, either. It was her dirty little secret. Her father would kill her if she was caught fooling around with the help.

“I know he’s not your babysitter, but he should’ve contacted me,” her father muttered, shaking his head.

Irritation filled her. “He doesn’t tell me what to do. He’s there to make sure I don’t get shot or abducted by some psycho.” There was no doubt her father did consider Mason Russell her babysitter and it made her nuts. His entire staff thought Mason was her keeper and she hated it.

Hated it and savored it all at once. Maybe she wouldn’t mind Mason being her keeper—in bed.

Irritation filled her. She really needed to stop thinking of him like that. It was pointless.

“I don’t appreciate you using that tone with me,” James admonished, his voice cold. He shook his head and leaned back in his chair, the springs creaking with the movement. “I want to talk to Russell.”

Blake lifted her chin, anger and disappointment surging through her. “Why?”

“Because clearly you can’t take care of yourself, so I’m going to ensure someone else will do it for you. When you leave, tell him I want to speak with him. Now.”

And just like that, her father dismissed her without another word. He reached for the phone on his desk, picked up the receiver and punched a few buttons, ignoring her as if she didn’t exist.