Knights and Kink Romance Boxed Set (3 page)

Who really talked like that in real life? Nobody.
Well, porn stars, perhaps. But not newspaper editors.

Maybe the fact my panties were floating in a river
of my own nectar just made me hear sexual innuendo where there was
none.

“Excuse me, but where are you?” I asked the empty
air.

“Over here.” One of the mirrors turned, and out of
nowhere popped Rodney Doyle.

Or rather, a
dozen
Rodney Doyles. He was
reflected twelve times over in the wall of mirrors. I couldn’t tell
which one was real and which ones were just reflections. It was
like something out of an old movie.

“What the hell is this, a joke? If so, it’s not
funny.”

I felt a light tap on my shoulder, and spun around.
The flesh-and-blood Rodney Doyle was just behind me. And he was
even more gorgeous in the flesh than he was on television or
reflected in a dozen creepy mirrors. The man was a veritable Greek
god. Six-foot-four, hazel eyes, sandy blonde hair, chiseled
features. A barrel-like chest and biceps that were so thick they
nearly burst out the sleeves of his custom-tailored shirt. He
smelled of musk and expensive aftershave, and his face was spread
wide in a glistening, perfect smile. “I’m sorry if my little mirror
trick upset you. I’ve been into mirror tricks since I was a kid. My
mom rented me a copy of
The Lady From Shanghai
when I was
fourteen and I loved the hall of mirrors scene so much that when I
grew up and got rich, I had one built into my office.”

“
The Lady From Shanghai?
Sorry, I’m not
following.”

“It’s an old Orson Welles movie. Orson Welles used a
hall of mirrors to subdue Rita Hayworth during a shootout. I find
it works well at subduing everyone who comes into my office—which
is quite important in my line of work.”

“Well, it didn’t
subdue
me. It just freaked
me out.”

“One and the same,” Rodney said, and motioned me to
sit in one of the massive chairs across from his desk. “So, Ms.
Rand, I assume you’re here to beg me to save your ass?”

“I’m not here on my own behalf. I’m here to ask you
to help Senator Grayle.”

He laughed. “Senator Grayle is beyond help at this
point. His career ended the minute he let those hustlers’ mouths
around his dick. I don’t know why you think I can do anything to
change that.”

At that point, I knew I had to appeal to Rodney’s
enormous ego somehow, or I’d be sunk before I even started. “Surely
you wouldn’t give up that easily,” I cooed. “After all, you and
your paper have the power to turn public opinion any way you want.
You even turned Monica Lewinsky into a saint for a while. You’re a
media genius, or so everyone says. This ought to be a piece of cake
for you.”

More booming laughter. Rodney’s electric blue eyes
twinkled, and he gave me a knowing smile.“Flattery will get you
nowhere, my dear,” he said. “I think far too highly of myself
already.”

I scoffed. “That’s obvious. It’s a miracle that
there’s any air left for me to breathe in here, given the size of
your head.”

Rodney blinked. He was more than a little surprised
by my retort; he probably wasn’t used to being insulted. “Let me
level with you, Ms. Rand. I know that I
can
help Senator
Grayle. But at this point, I don’t see any reason why I
should.
There’s a big difference between the two.” He walked
over to a massive walnut cabinet and opened its doors, revealing a
miniature bar. “Scotch on the rocks? I’m having one, and I think
you should, too.”

“I don’t like hard liquor.”

Rodney ignored this and poured me a brimming
highball from an expensive-looking bottle. “Ms. Rand, if you want
to play with the big boys, the first thing you need to do is to
drink with them.”

“Call me Jasmine, please.” I took a tiny sip from
the glass and to my surprise, found the strong, yet smooth, liquor
to my liking. “This is very good.”

“It should be, for eight hundred bucks a bottle. So
tell me, Jasmine, what do you think about Senator Grayle’s latest
indiscretion? I know—as I’m sure you do too—that Senator Grayle is
no stranger to indiscretions. But this is the first time I’m aware
of where he openly broke the law.”

I took another sip, this time a longer one. The
booze made my throat tingle as it went down, then sent little waves
of warmth through my belly. Little waves of warmth that were
inching their way down towards my nether parts. “It doesn’t matter
what
I
think of it,” I said. “I’m a PR staffer, not a judge.
My job is to make the whole thing just ‘go away’, so Senator Grayle
can be re-elected.”

Rodney’s eyebrows raised. “Surely you don’t believe
that’s possible.”

The man was really getting annoying. “I have to
believe it. Otherwise, I’m out of a job.”

“Quite a conundrum.” Rodney sat down across from me
behind the massive desk. “Ms. Rand—“

“Jasmine, please,” I interrupted.

He ignored me. “
Ms. Rand
, to be perfectly
honest, what happened today is hardly a surprise to me. I often
wondered if my paper would have the opportunity to dish on one of
Senator Grayle’s, shall we say,
unique
tastes. But he was
far too good at keeping that part of his life under wraps from the
press. I knew about it of course, but nobody at my paper was ever
able to catch him in the act. Not that we haven’t tried, believe
me.”

My eyes widened; that news surprised even me. From
what I understood,
the Beltway Times
was only interested in
making
Democrats
look bad. “I never knew the
Times
was interested in trashing die-hard Republicans like Senator
Grayle,” I said.

“These days, the
Beltway Times
is interested
in anything that will help sell papers,” Rodney replied. “It’s a
very tough business now, much tougher than it used to be. And
Senator Grayle’s private life was ripe for the picking. It was only
a matter of time before he made a mistake like this.” Rodney leaned
back in his chair and thoughtfully examined his fingernails. “At
some point, I suppose even a connoisseur like Grayle can get bored
with the kinkiest, most expensive sex-for-hire Washington has to
offer. The only reason I can think of why he’d take such a risk is
for the thrill of it.”

“What do you mean?”

Rodney rolled his eyes, as if I should have known
what he meant already. “Maybe this is news to you, Ms. Rand, but
your boss Senator Grayle is a total sex fiend. Into all sorts of
kinky things, from what I understand. Though cheap male hustlers in
Rock Creek Park is slumming it for him. He’s always preferred
exclusive private sex clubs and the high-class bondage scene in the
past.”

My eyes flew wide. I knew my boss was a sleazebag in
the bedroom department, sure. But I’d never have pegged him for sex
clubs and bondage. I always thought Grayle kept his tastes confined
to the three elegant mistresses he had shacked up in fancy condos
over in Georgetown. “How do you know all of this?”

Rodney swallowed his drink in one gulp and smirked.
“I make it my business to know everything that happens in this
town. Plus, Grayle and I run in some of the same, shall we say,
circles.”

I should have been disgusted by that, but instead I
felt more blood flowing to my nether parts. “I see.”

“I suppose you’re wondering what it would take for
me to help you,” Rodney said. “I don’t generally do anything for
anyone unless there’s something in it for me.”

I chuckle. “Right. That makes you just like everyone
else in Washington.”

“Not quite. The favors I expect in return for my
help are a bit different from the usual wheeling and dealing you
see over on Capitol Hill.” Rodney raised his thick eyebrows and
lowered his eyelids seductively. “Do you get my meaning?”

My crotch was getting hot. But I wasn’t about to let
him know that. Not yet. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

Rodney checked his watch, looking bored. “I really
must be going. I’m due to make an appearance on MSNBC in twenty
minutes.” He got up to leave.

“But—“ I stammered. “You haven’t even given me a
chance!”

“On the contrary,” he replied. “I gave you five
minutes of my time. That’s more than ninety-nine percent of the PR
staffers in town get.”

My back was up against the wall. I knew I needed to
act fast and hard, or me and my career were done for. “I’d be
willing to discuss favors with you. Privately. Any kind of favors
you want.”

Rodney stopped short. “Is that so?”

“That’s so.”

“All right then. Meet me tonight at CityZen at the
Mandarin Oriental. I’ll make reservations for eight, my treat.” He
paused, looked at my outfit with displeasure. “And dress
appropriately.”

“I always dress appropriately, I’ll have you
know.”

“Not today, you don’t. That suit went out of style
three years ago, and it was cheap to begin with. And it looks like
you slept in it.”

“I beg your pardon—“

He raised his hand to silence me. “I could go on and
on, but I won’t, because I’m a gentleman.”

“Hardly.” I’d had more than enough of this. I stood
up to leave.

“Don’t go just yet.” Rodney crossed to me, his
expression softening a bit. “Please don’t take what I just said the
wrong way. I’m afraid I’m not known for my tact.”

“That’s obvious, too.”

To my surprise, Rodney placed a strong hand on my
shoulder, and squeezed. I felt the squeeze send heated tingling
throughout my body, all the way down to my toes. “You’re a very
attractive woman, Jasmine,” he said, using my given name for the
first time. “Just a little rough around the edges. And truth be
told, I like my women a little rough, if you know what I mean.”

My cheeks flushed. I was in way over my head. “I
really should be getting back to Senator Grayle’s office. Thanks
for the dinner invitation, but I think I’ll pass.”

“Wait.” Rodney took my hand, white-hot electricity
on my skin. “I don’t mean to offend you, Jasmine. I really don’t. I
just find you incredibly attractive, is all. Sometimes I get a bit
rude and crude around women who turn me on. It’s a personal vice of
mine.”

Oh. My. God.

I turned this man on?

Me, a mousy, frizzy-haired, slightly overweight,
thirty-four-year-old celibate who hadn’t gotten laid in two years,
unless you counted an occasional (
very
occasional) romp with
my middle finger in bathroom stalls? Was he pulling my leg? “Pardon
me, but is that a joke?”

“No joke. I’d really like to take you up on your
offer and spend some time with you, Jasmine.
Private
time.
And then, maybe we can see what I can do to help out Senator
Grayle. Believe it or not, even
I
can be convinced to change
my mind about certain things, from time to time.” He gave me a
wink. “Not that it would be a tit-for-tat exchange or
anything.”

I chuckled again. “Of course not.”

“I’ll see you at eight then. And wear something
nice. I’m partial to red. Red and strapless.” He gestured to the
door. “My assistant Marie will see you out.”

Red.
I didn’t
own
anything red, let
alone strapless. A shopping trip was definitely in order.

I turned on my heel and left, crotch buzzing.

Chapter
3

I made it downstairs to the lobby and headed out
into the brisk afternoon air. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed
Rebecca at the office.

She picked up on the first ring. “Hello?”

“Rebecca, it’s Jasmine. I was just calling to let
you know I won’t be back in the office today.”

“What? Why?” Rebecca sounded alarmed.

“I just finished meeting with Rodney Doyle, and he
wants to have dinner with me tonight to discuss the—ahhh, Senator
Grayle situation. I need to spend the rest of the afternoon getting
ready.”

“No!” Rebecca cried. “You can’t do that! All hell
has broken loose over here since you left!”

I stopped short, nearly breaking the heel off my
shoe. “What do you mean?”

“There’s a media circus camped outside the office. I
can’t even go outside the front door without getting attacked. And
Senator Grayle needs me to go over to the jail to bail him
out!”

“Can’t you send one of the interns over to do that?
That’s what the interns are for, after all.”

“Jasmine, that’s not going to work—“

I started over. “I mean, the interns are there to do
all the crummy errands we don’t want to do, not necessarily bail
the senator out of jail, per se—“

“Jasmine, all the interns
quit
right after
you left the office. They didn’t want to risk putting Senator
Grayle’s name on their resumes after what’s happened.”

“Oh dear,” I said, feeling my crotch suddenly go
cold. That was going to put a damper on my plans in a hurry.

“Jasmine, what should I do?”

I stopped to think. “Just sit tight for now. Don’t
worry about bailing Senator Grayle out just yet. I might be able to
pull some strings to get him out of there
incognito
. And
I’ll see what I can do to get the media circus out of the way,
too.”

“How long will that take?” Rebecca sounded
desperate. In fact, she was hyperventilating into the phone, making
static. “I can’t spend the night here, you know.”

“You won’t, don’t worry,” I said, trying my best to
sound soothing. “I’ll do everything within my power to take the
media heat off of this, believe me. My meeting with Rodney Doyle
went very well, by the way.” Not exactly the truth, but not exactly
a lie, either. “We have a dinner date set up tonight
to—ahem—discuss things.”

This seemed to calm Rebecca down a bit; the
hyperventilating moderated to a low hum. “Really? Is he going to
help us?”

“He might. But only if I go to dinner with him
tonight dressed to kill.”