Fatal Scandal: Book Eight of the Fatal Series (2 page)

“Give me a hug,” Sam said.

“My hands are all dirty, and you look really nice,” Scotty said.

“I’ll risk it.”

He held his hands up and away from her while she gave him a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. “Be good for Shelby.”

“Duh, I’m always good.”

And wasn’t that the truth? He was a good and decent boy, and they were blessed to have him in their lives. If only they could get his adoption finalized, everything would be perfect. As required by the courts, they had a private investigator looking for Scotty’s biological father, but so far their efforts hadn’t yielded any results.

“Shelby said we can have champagne at midnight.”

The tiny blonde Sam called Tinker Bell balked. “I said no such thing! Don’t get me in trouble.”

Scotty laughed at her outrage.

“I said you could stay
up
until midnight, but if you get me in trouble, it’s off to bed with you right now.”

“I’ll behave,” Scotty said gravely, a devilish glint in his eyes.

“Happy New Year,” Nick said.

“Same to you,” Shelby said. “Have a good time, and don’t worry about anything here.”

“Thanks, Shelby.” With a hand placed possessively on her lower back, Nick ushered Sam from the kitchen.

Hill ducked out of the way to let them pass. “Happy New Year,” he said.

“Same to you,” Sam said while Nick remained stubbornly silent.

As they stepped into the living room, the Secret Service agents sprung into action, talking on radios and doing all the stuff they did every time Nick dared to leave the house. Before her eyes, his entire body went tense, letting her know how much he detested all the hoopla.

Brant, the lead agent on his detail, waited by the front door. “Mr. Vice President, Mrs. Cappuano, we’re ready for you.”

After Nick held her coat for her, Sam squeezed his arm and smiled up at him, hoping to defuse some of his tension by reminding him that at the end of the day, it was still about the two of them. “Let’s go have some fun.”

He returned her smile and seemed to relax ever so slightly. “Let’s do it.”

Chapter Two

Nick had secured the same K Street lounge where they’d held their promotion party last year. Except this time, it was just the two of them and his detail rather than the raucous crowd of friends and family that had joined them a year ago.

“Are they closed tonight?” Sam asked.

Nick gestured to a candlelit table set for two in the middle of the big room that usually served as a bustling nightclub. “For a private party of two.”

“My husband must have some kind of cache to be able to shut down a hot spot like this on New Year’s Eve.”

“Yes, he’s very powerful and influential,” he said with the self-deprecating grin she loved so much. “In truth, the only way the Secret Service would go for it was if we had the place to ourselves.” He shrugged. “So we have the place to ourselves.”

She ran her hand down the length of his red silk tie and hooked her index finger under his belt. “Having the place completely to ourselves doesn’t totally suck.”

“Don’t get any ideas. We’re not alone.”

Though his detail had faded into the background, they were always there and always watching. Determined to ensure he had a good time tonight despite the prying eyes around them, Sam walked over to the table. He was right behind her, holding the chair for her. The moment they were seated, a waiter emerged from the kitchen.

“Mr. Vice President, Mrs. Cappuano, it is indeed an honor to have you here tonight. I’m Mario, and I’ll be your waiter.”

“Thank you, Mario,” Nick said. “I believe we need some champagne.”

Sam nodded in agreement, and the waiter hustled off to get it. “Champagne makes me silly and uninhibited,” Sam reminded her husband.

“Does it? I’d forgotten that.”

Since he never forgot anything where she was concerned, she rolled her eyes to let him know she wasn’t buying it. “I think you’re just trying to make sure you get lucky later.”

“Do I ever have any problem getting lucky?”

“Are you calling me easy, Mr. VP?”

“If the Louboutin fits...”

Laughing, Sam said, “I can’t even deny these accusations.”

“I love that you’re easy.” He kissed the back of her hand, sending shivers of sensation darting up her arm and straight to her nipples, which stood at attention. Naturally, he noticed, his hazel eyes heating with pleasure at the way she reacted to him. “You have no idea how much I count on the one thing in my life that’s always easy and effortless.”

“You’re the only one who’s ever said that dealing with me is effortless.”

“I love
dealing
with you, as you well know.”

She loved when he looked at her the way he was now, as if the sun, the moon and the stars rose and set with her.

The moment ended when Mario returned with their champagne, which was presented with flourish. “Please enjoy,” he said when he’d filled two crystal flutes. “I’ll be back with your appetizers momentarily.”

“So we don’t have to order?” Sam asked when they were alone again.

“All taken care of.”

In her past life, before him, it would’ve made her crazy to have a man order for her. But when he did it, she felt cared for and maybe a bit coddled. Not that she’d ever admit as much to him. She had a reputation to maintain, after all.

“I can see the gerbils working overtime on the treadmill as you try to convince yourself to let go and roll with it,” he said, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“You can see no such thing.”

“Whatever you say, babe. Any minute now there’ll be smoke pouring out your ears.”

He knew her better than anyone ever had—better than anyone ever would. Her inclination at first had been to fight that, to preserve a piece of herself so she’d survive if things between them didn’t work out. Now, after a year with him, she had faith it would work out and knew for certain she’d never survive without him.

“Now what’re you thinking?”

“You tell me. You’re the one with ESP.”

He studied her intently, making her squirm ever so slightly in her chair. “You’re thinking that you love me so much it’s not even funny, and you can’t wait until we get home to the one place where there’re no prying eyes so you can have your wicked way with me. Am I close?”

“If you hadn’t already told me how easy I am, I’d tell you you’re delusional. But we know better, don’t we?”

“Yes, we do.” Smiling, he raised his glass to her. “To my gorgeous, sexy, exasperating,
easy
wife, I love you more than anything, and I can’t wait to see what our second year together will entail.”

Charmed and touched by his sweet words, she touched her glass to his and took a sip of the dry, chilled bubbly. “Mmm, that’s good.”

“Drink up. I’ve got plans for later, and I need you uninhibited.” He waggled his brows suggestively, which had her squirming in her chair for a whole other reason.

Sam glanced toward the far side of the large room where four Secret Service agents were seated at a table talking quietly and pretending they weren’t watching them. She knew others were positioned outside, creating a perimeter of protection all around them. If she allowed herself to think too much about being surrounded every time she was with her husband, she’d lose her mind. So she chose not to think about it—most of the time.

“Pretend they’re not here,” Nick said. “Focus on me.”

Focusing on his exquisitely handsome face was certainly no hardship. Mario plied them with four courses of delicious food and wine and more champagne before he carried out a flaming soufflé for dessert.

“So, are you going to tell me how the deposition went today?” he asked as they dug into the soufflé with two spoons.

“How do you think it went? I had to relive the nightmare day when Melissa came into our house with a bomb strapped to her chest.”

“Did it take all day?”

“Yep. Her lawyers were nothing if not thorough.”

“And I’m sure you were unrepentant.”

“You’re damn right I was. I don’t regret anything I did that day. She can sue us all she wants, but I did my job and I have no doubt that Freddie and I saved all our lives that day.”

“I was there. I can attest to that. What happens now?”

“Who knows? They take my deposition, and the whole thing goes away until it rears its ugly head again. I’m not giving it another thought until I have to.” Eager to change the subject, Sam said, “You know what the good thing is about your detail?”

“Is there a good thing?”

“Yep. We can get totally hammered, and they have to drive us home.”

“That isn’t a bad thing. Are you totally hammered?”

“I think I might be. Are you?”

“Nope. I paced myself.”

“Always in control, aren’t you?”

He gazed at her meaningfully. “Not always.”

Sam’s bite of soufflé got stuck in her throat. The reminder that she was the one person who could break his legendary control made her want to go home immediately. “Is it time to go?”

“Not quite yet.” He fed her another bite. “Want to dance?”

Sam looked over at the Secret Service detail. The three men and one woman were done eating and were monitoring them without actually looking at them. “I’d prefer to dance at home without an audience.”

“We can do that.” He checked his watch. “It’s almost midnight.”

“Are they going to let us go up to watch the fireworks?” It went against everything she believed in to ask anyone for permission to do anything, but she didn’t want to make his life any more complicated than it already was by constantly clashing with his detail.

Nodding, he said, “That was my primary request for this evening. I had a promise to my wife that needed to be kept.”

Last year, they’d stood on the rooftop of this very building, newly in love, newly back together six years after an unforgettable one-night stand. They’d promised to come back to that spot to see in every New Year together. She’d wondered if they’d get to do it in light of his new security constraints.

“Did you doubt that I’d remember?”

“Oh, I knew you’d remember. I’ve learned not to question such things. Your memory is freakishly good. I just wasn’t sure if they’d allow it.”

“Apparently, there’ll be sharpshooters on adjacent buildings keeping an eye on us, so no sudden moves.”

She rested her hand on his leg and ran it slowly up to cup him intimately. “So nothing like this?” she asked as he hardened under her hand.

“That’s absolutely allowed.”

Sam laughed at the lusty look he sent her way as he covered her hand with his to keep her from getting away. “How about you save that for when we get home?”

“There’s plenty more where that came from.”

“There’s so much I could say to that.”

Nick put his free arm around her and pulled her and her chair closer to him. With his lips close to her ear, he said, “I know it sucks balls to be constantly under surveillance, babe, but I just want you to know... That we can still be us in the midst of it is the only thing saving my sanity right now.”

“We’ll always be us, no matter where we are or who is watching.” She stroked her hand up and down his length, loving the way he throbbed under her palm. “Speaking of sucking balls, I have a hankering—”

He kissed her before she could finish the sentence. “Don’t say it, or I’ll drag you out of here without keeping my promise.”

Sam happened to glance over at the table full of agents, all of whom were face-first in their phones, except for Melinda, who was watching them. The tall, frosty blonde seemed to enjoy her job a little too much if you asked Sam. “Tell Secret Service Barbie to quit looking at my hot husband.”

“Um, she’s sort of paid to look at me.”

“I don’t like her.”

“Oh, Jesus. Why not? What’ve you got against her?”

“I don’t like the way she looks at you.”

“Samantha,” he said, “are you being serious right now?”

“Dead serious. There’s something about her that bugs me.”

“Just like there’s something about Avery Hill that bugs me?”

“Something like that.”

Nick busted up laughing, which had Sam removing her hand from his crotch. If he was going to laugh at her, he didn’t deserve a hand job. A buzzing noise from under the table interrupted the snappy retort she was working up.

“Saved by the phone,” he said, aware that he’d gotten himself into trouble.

“I know I should ignore it, but what if it’s Scotty?”

“Go ahead and check it. You won’t relax knowing there’s an unread text on your phone.”

And wasn’t that the truth? She retrieved her phone from her purse and flipped it open to find a text from Gonzo.

Shit is hitting the fan. Need to talk to you. Call if you can.

“Crap, it’s Gonzo. He says the shit’s hitting the fan. He wants me to call him.”

“Go ahead. We have time before midnight.”

“They’re supposed to be celebrating their anniversary tonight.” Gonzo had met Christina, Nick’s former chief of staff, at their party here last year and they were now engaged. Sam placed the call and waited for Gonzo to pick up.

Nick put his arm around her and kept her close while he took advantage of the opportunity to check his own phone. Sam had learned to hate that phone, which often rang in the middle of the night, with Terry passing on information he thought Nick needed to know. It had been bad enough when only her phone did that. Now they had two of them that went off at all hours.

Gonzo picked up on the sixth ring. “Hey, sorry. I was on the other line with Andy.” Nick’s lawyer friend had spearheaded Gonzo’s efforts to get custody of his son.

“What’s he got to say?”

“He’s pissed that I didn’t disclose my previous relationship with the judge.”

“Oh, crap. Is he dropping you?”

“He didn’t say that, but I guess I couldn’t blame him if he did. This whole thing is my fault. I should’ve come clean at the outset, and now Lori’s people are all over it.”

“How so?”

“They’ve filed an injunction to overturn the ruling that gave me full custody.”

“Shit. What did Andy say?”

“That they’ve got a case, and I should be worried. Lori also went to the fucking media, and now it’s a total shitstorm.”

“I saw some of that earlier.”

“I don’t know what to do, Sam. Part of me wants to pack up Alex and run. The other half of me wants to pretend this isn’t happening. And then there’s the part that wants to wrap my hands around her fucking neck and squeeze the life out of her.”

“Please don’t do that. And it won’t help anything if you run away. You’ll have to come back eventually and face the music.” She leaned into Nick’s embrace. “Just remember that everyone felt you were the better parent. If they reopen the case, another judge isn’t going to necessarily see it differently.”

“I can’t believe I might have to go through that hell all over again. I wish she’d just go away. She doesn’t even want him.”

Sam didn’t know what to say to that. From everything she’d heard, Lori Phillips had gone to tremendous lengths to clean up her life in an effort to get custody of her son. But that wasn’t what Gonzo needed to hear right now. “I know this has to be really stressful, but there’s nothing you can do on a holiday weekend. Try to relax until you know more. And don’t do anything stupid that’ll make your case more complicated—or mess up your recovery. We need you back at work.”

“I know. I just feel like... God, Sam, I’m
losing
it over here.”

“Do you need me to come over there and keep you from doing something stupid?”

“No, Chris is here, and she’s doing what she can. The thought of losing Alex... I can’t lose him. I’d never survive it.”

“Do you promise you’ll stay calm and let the process work the way it’s supposed to?”

After an uncomfortably long silence, Gonzo said, “Yeah.”

“Gonzo, seriously. Don’t do anything you’ll regret. Think about your hard-won career and the family that needs you. Stay calm.”

“Thanks, Sam. Chris told me to call you. She said I’d feel better after I talked to you, and I do.”

“Anytime.”

“Sorry to interrupt your evening. I know you guys had plans.”

“No worries. You know you can always call me. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”

“Sounds good,” he said. “Happy New Year.”