Knights and Kink Romance Boxed Set (14 page)

“Sounds great.”

I ordered the takeaway and left some cash with
Rebecca so she could pay for it when it arrived. “I’ll be in
Senator Grayle’s office, returning calls on his private line,” I
said. “Just come get me when the food arrives.” I walked into
Senator Grayle’s office and locked the door behind me.

I decided to try returning the mysterious
distorted-voice message first. I dialed the number given, but all I
got was a recording from the telephone company saying the number
had been disconnected. Thinking I might have misdialed, I tried
again and still got the same recording. I wondered if perhaps
Rebecca had taken down the number incorrectly, but knowing how
efficient she was, figured that was unlikely. Whoever had called
probably gave a fake number. I made a mental note to ask Rebecca to
be vigilant if a caller with a mysterious distorted voice rang
again.

I tossed all the messages from angry constituents in
the garbage. With Senator Grayle’s political career over, there was
no point in trying to keep in good graces with the voters back
home. That left the message from Rodney Doyle. I had mixed feelings
about Rodney now. On the one hand, my experience at the House of
Flowers had been incredible. A whole new world of sensual delights
had been opened up for me there, something I knew that Rodney had
wanted to happen. And the very thought of how my new experience
could spice up our future encounters made my heart race.

On the other hand, I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted
to get caught up in the kind of scandal and intrigue Rodney and his
newspaper were famous for stirring up. It was already pretty clear
he was probably having me followed; he could have been responsible
for the mysterious distorted call, too. Maybe not
directly
responsible, but I knew he employed scores of undercover
freelancers all over Washington who might have been angling in on
me for a scoop they could turn around and sell to him.

At first I’d considered Rodney Doyle and his
newspaper as my only possible savior out of an impossible
situation. Now, I wondered if getting involved with him was only
going to make things worse.

But even if my head told me that the man wasn’t good
for me, my heart (and my crotch) were saying something else
entirely. My hand hovered over the receiver, hesitating to make the
call to Rodney’s office. Calling him back would just get me in over
my head even deeper. But what other choice did I have? My PR career
was on the skids, and Rodney Doyle’s proposal was the only viable
career option left to me, at least for the moment. And he’d
certainly done a terrific job of blackmailing me sexually. After
the past two days of wild sex under his direction, my body wouldn’t
tolerate anything but being at his beck and call.

I dialed his office and was surprised when he picked
up his own line, bypassing his luscious little secretary. “Rodney
Doyle speaking.”

“Well, I’m back from running that little errand,” I
said, my voice husky and deeper than usual. I decided not to let on
I’d figured out he’d had me followed.

“So I heard,” he replied. “Daisy called to let me
know how things went.”

I blinked. “Did she now? Boy, the girl is
efficient.”

Rodney laughed. “Yes, she is. Which is exactly why I
keep her on my payroll. It’s my understanding from Daisy that you
had quite a good time.”

I kicked off my heels and threw my bare feet up on
Senator Grayle’s desk, suddenly feeling powerful. “Yes, I
did
have a good time,” I said. “The whole experience
was—ahem—very interesting.”

Rodney cleared his throat. “I understand from Daisy
that you gave Mistress Violet a run for her money. Is that
true?”

Was that a glint of arousal in Rodney’s deepening
voice, or was I imagining things? “I’m not sure,” I replied. “What
exactly would constitute a run for a dominatrix’s money?”

“Oh, this and that,” Rodney said, teasing. “Trust
me, you did very well. I have it on good authority.”
“Is that right?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Rodney paused. I could hear him
drumming his fingers onto his mahogany desk. Was he really as
nervous as I was? It didn’t seem possible. “Now down to business,”
he said. “How many pictures did you get of Senator Grayle while you
were there?”

I chewed my lip. “Well, there’s kind of a—thing
about that.”

“Such as?”

I took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “I
did
take several photos with my camera phone,” I gushed.
“But all the photos got deleted somehow. ”

Rodney coughed. “And how, pray tell, did that
happen?”

“I don’t know. I sort of fell asleep after things
wrapped up with Mistress Violet, and when I woke up, my phone’s
memory had been cleared out.”

Rodney took a moment to ponder this. I wasn’t sure,
but I thought I heard him grinding his teeth. “Well, it’s not
unexpected you’d have problems on your first assignment,” he
finally said. “And I also suppose it’s my fault. I should have
better prepared you for what you’d run into at the House of
Flowers. Mistress Violet does have a reputation for wearing out her
clients. ”

I breathed a sigh of relief. I was certain that
given his reputation as a cutthroat barracuda in the media world,
Rodney would have been furious with me for failing. But here he
was, shrugging it off as no big deal. I wondered why.

A second later, I had my answer. “And even if you
hadn’t fallen asleep, Jasmine, I probably shouldn’t have sent you
on assignment after Senator Grayle as your first visit to the House
of Flowers. I think it was probably a bit too personal for your
liking. Am I right?”

“Yes, you’re right,” I sighed. “But don’t
misunderstand me—I
did
enjoy myself. Really.”

“I don’t doubt that at all,” he said. “You are a
very sensual woman, Jasmine, and I’m sure you were in your
element.You see, I wanted you to go to the House of Flowers as a
sort of test. A test not only of your potential skill as an
undercover tabloid reporter, but also a test of your sexual
prowess. And when I say ‘sexual prowess’, I mean your willingness
to try new things, no matter how exotic or taboo they might be. And
I’m pleased to report that you passed
that
test with flying
colors.”

I passed! I couldn’t help but feeling a little smug.
If someone had suggested to me a week ago that I’d soon be living
the life of a sexpot political spy, I would have laughed them out
of town. I figured my new life had to be a matter of pure dumb
luck. I had to stifle a giggle at the notion that someone like me
could possibly be destined for a life of secret sexual intrigue
among the most powerful movers and shakers in Washington. Stuff
like that just didn’t happen to small-town, virginal girls from
North Dakota. Did it?

“Jasmine? Are you still there?” Rodney sounded
concerned.

“Yes, I’m still here,” I stammered. “I just—umm,
sort of lost my train of thought for a minute.”

“More like
three
minutes,” Rodney said. “I
was beginning to wonder if maybe you’d passed out from exhaustion.
And no wonder. I’m told Mistress Violet can be quite demanding,
even of first-timers.”

I felt my cheeks burn. “She did show me some. .
.interesting new things about my body,” I said. I hated to admit
it, but I was embarrassed to go into more detail.

Rodney laughed again. “I’m sure she did. And I’m
looking forward to hearing more about it, believe me.”

I took my feet off the desk and sat up straight.
“So, what happens now?”

“Take the rest of the day to catch up on whatever
you need to in the office,” Rodney said. “We’ll meet for dinner
tonight to discuss our next steps. My condo. 34 Riverside Drive. I
employ a private chef who’ll make us a nice meal. I hope you like
French cuisine.”

I smiled. “Love it. Just no snails, please.”

“Don’t worry—escargot won’t be on the menu. They’re
out of season. See you at eight, Jasmine. And how about you wear
that little red number you had on last night again? It suited you.
The shoes, too.” With that, Rodney hung up.

I could hardly wear the red dress from last night;
it was stained with my sweat and pussy juice, and I wouldn’t have
time to get it dry-cleaned in time for dinner. And there was also
the little matter of me confronting Rodney for having me tailed. I
was puzzling over what to do about both predicaments when Rebecca
stuck her head in the office door.

“The takeout’s here,” she said. “I’ll set everything
up in the break room.”

“I’ll be right there,” I replied. I could feel a
monster headache coming on. I rummaged around in Senator Grayle’s
bottom drawer, where I knew he kept his Excedrin. I took three
tablets from the bottle and dry-swallowed them before heading to
the break room.

Rebecca had already set out the takeaway along with
paper plates, napkins, and bamboo chopsticks by the time I arrived.
She’d also set out two cans of Diet Coke for me, knowing that I
liked it better than the healthy herbal tea she preferred. “I have
the kettle on if you decide you want tea later,” she said.

“No, Diet Coke is fine.”

Rebecca frowned. “You know, they say that diet soft
drinks cause brain cancer. You really should consider cutting
down.”

I flopped into a chair and dished myself a hearty
helping of cashewed chicken. “At the rate I’m going, I’d probably
be better off with a brain tumor.”

Rebecca’s brown eyes glistened with concern. “Now
Jasmine, you know you shouldn’t talk like that.”

“I dunno, Rebecca.I’m not sure if I have much of a
future in Washington anymore. And if I don’t have a future in
Washington, I’m not sure if I have a future at all. Washington is
all I know. And I’d rather die than have to go back to North
Dakota.”

Rebecca took an eggroll from the takeout box for
herself and then handed me the other one. “I thought things were
going well with your Rodney Doyle angle,” she said, smothering her
eggroll with hot mustard sauce. “Did something go wrong between you
and him? I hope not, for our sake. Seems to me his paper is our
last hope.”

I felt my mouth turn to cotton. Did I dare reveal to
Rebecca how things were really transpiring between Rodney Doyle and
me? Rebecca was a sweet, innocent, and honest young woman who, as
far as I knew, always traveled the straight-and-narrow path, both
in her job and in her life. I could hardly expect her to get
involved in high-risk capers of sexual intrigue. Could I?

Rebecca gave me an odd look. “Are you all right,
Jasmine? You seem a little preoccupied.”

“No, I’m fine,” I lied. “Just tired, is all. The
past two days have been a little crazy.”

“That’s true,” Rebecca said. “I’m worn out too.
Working fourteen-hour days trying to keep the press from breaking
down the front door is no fun. But we have to do our best to stay
positive, whatever happens.” As if to emphasize her point, Rebecca
smiled brightly and polished off the rest of her eggroll.

I envied Rebecca her devil-may-care attitude in the
midst of such a crisis. Then again, she was such a skilled and
well-connected secretary that I’m sure she knew she could have
another job lined up at some other Congressman’s office on the Hill
within a month or two of looking. Who knew—with her efficiency,
knowledge, and always-sunny attitude, in another five or ten years,
Rebecca could be working at the White House. “I wish I had your
positive attitude, Rebecca,” I said. “It would make my life a lot
easier.”

“Anyone can have a positive attitude who wants one,”
was her swift and sunny reply. “They’re not hard to come by if you
just try.”

We ate in silence for a few minutes before Rebecca
spoke again. “So, what
is
going on with Rodney Doyle and his
paper? You never said. And I
am
curious why he called this
morning while you were out sounding like he did.”

My chopsticks stopped in midair. “What do you mean,
sounding like he did?
What did he sound like, exactly?”

Rebecca wiped the grease from her fingers with her
napkin. “To tell you the truth, he sounded jealous.”

Jealous?
My jaw dropped. How could Rodney
Doyle have been jealous of my activities at the House of Flowers?
He set the whole thing up for me, for Christ’s sake. “Are you
fucking kidding me?”

Rebecca scrambled to explain. “I wasn’t planning to
say anything about it at first, because I thought maybe I was
imagining things. But now I see you acting this way at lunch, and
it makes me wonder if my first impression was right.”

If Rebecca was right about Rodney being jealous, the
fact he’d probably had me followed made a lot more sense. Still,
the ends didn’t justify the means. I put my throbbing head down on
the table, managing to get some sweet-and-sour sauce in my hair in
the process. “This is just getting worse and worse,” I groaned.

“What? What’s getting worse?” Rebecca laid a gentle
hand on my shoulder. “We’ve worked together for a long time,
Jasmine. Whatever it is, you can tell me what’s on your mind. Trust
me.”

I looked up. “I’m not sure you’d want to know the
truth.”

“Sure I would. Try me. Believe me, Jasmine, after
working in Senator Grayle’s office for as long as I have, there’s
not a lot I haven’t seen already.” Rebecca raised her eyebrows at
me. “If you know what I mean.”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Come
on
, Jasmine.
It’s not as if I haven’t heard about Rodney Doyle’s notorious
reputation with the ladies. And I read the
Beltway Times
practically every day, so I know what kinds of topics that rag
likes to cover. And given the size of the bags under your eyes this
morning, I can pretty well imagine what you’ve been up to. So
dish.”

I sighed. “All right. It looks like you’re already
on to me, so you might as well know the truth. Rodney Doyle and I
are having an affair.”