Rook (Political Royalty Book 2) (13 page)

“Looks like you got your wish,” said Haven.

Walker leaned forward from his seat in the front and caught her gaze. She ought to be used to it by now, but she got a jolt every time it happened. It was impossible to avoid each other in such close quarters, so she’d been stuck with trying to come up with coping mechanisms.
Don’t meet his gaze. Never sit close enough to smell his aftershave. Whenever possible, use the other staff as buffers. For God’s sake, don’t look at the man’s hands.

But every now and then, her eyes would meet his and it was like being struck by lightning. She’d have to pause and pray she caught her breath before anyone else saw her condition. It didn’t make sense. She knew what was at stake, but it didn’t matter. She was afraid if they were alone together again, she’d risk everything—everything she and Justin worked for, every dream she’d had—just for a chance to be with Walker.

Every day, she started with a promise to herself to keep things professional and every day, she broke that promise. He was a drug and she was an addict and the fact that she watched him lay out his vision for a better world over and over again, showing everyone, her included, that he was someone worth believing in, made it that much harder to walk away. She shouldn’t need a man like him in her world but God help her, she did.

“How much time do we have?” he asked, his voice washing over her.

She needed to get a fucking grip. She had so much more to lose than he did and the fact that she knew without a doubt that he’d never hurt her intentionally didn’t matter a bit in the face of the scandal they’d have to deal with if anyone found out they’d been together.

She glanced at her watch, grateful for the excuse to break eye contact. “You have an hour and a half before you and Travis have to be at Mrs. Winthrop’s home. Enough time to get to the hotel and freshen up.”

Walker sent Abby ahead to Florida with Sandra and the girls. Not strictly speaking in her job description but the other woman didn’t seem to mind and the plane was a lot larger without the senator’s wife on board. She’d been a constant fixture since the morning of the bridge collapse.

“I’m not sure I can go,” said Travis, his hand on his stomach and his eyes still closed.

“You’ll be fine. It’s probably just motion sickness,” said Haven.

“Nope.” Travis slipped out of his seat belt and bolted toward the restroom at the back as the plane came to a stop.

“He shouldn’t have had the oysters at that place at lunch,” said Justin, shaking his head. “I warned him about eating seafood in a land-locked state.”

“Seriously? That’s your response?” Haven tried to hide her grin. Poor Travis hadn’t looked good but there were areas where Justin was just crazy.

“I’m just saying,” he said, motioning with his head toward the back of the plane.

“Maybe we should let Travis off the hook for tonight. Why don’t you come with me instead?” said Walker. “Both of you?”

Haven felt Justin go very still beside her. He had plans he couldn’t change. Ethan was flying in just to spend a couple of hours with him before they got back on the trail at the ass crack of dawn. He couldn’t exactly say
I know you just flew three hundred miles to spend the night with me, but something’s come up
, but Haven also knew he worried about her being alone with Walker. For good reason. She couldn’t be trusted where the senator was concerned. She’d proved that over and over again.

“I can cancel,” he said under his breath.

“No, you can’t.”

“Something wrong?” asked Walker.

“Justin has plans for the evening.”

“I’ll change them,” he said, looking miserable.

“Don’t be silly. This is just a meet-and-greet and fundraiser. I wouldn’t go myself if I didn’t have to. Can you go with me, or do you have plans as well?” He pinned her with his gaze and her stomach tightened.

Despite her best intentions, her body responded to his voice as if it was trained to do it. She could say yes, tell him she had plans, but she wouldn’t and they both knew it.

H
AVEN SLIPPED INTO THE ONLY semi-formal thing she’d brought with her. It was a black sheath dress with a conservative neckline and a low back. There hadn’t been time for more than a quick shower so she’d piled her hair up on top of her head and hoped the messy up-do looked sexy instead of sloppy. She finished her makeup, adding an extra layer of mascara and the glossy red lipstick she’d bought on a whim and never worn. And then she slipped on her black heels and perched in the desk chair to wait.

Justin had given her the side eye the whole way from the airport to the hotel, but he hadn’t said anything. Neither of them had. There was no point. Nothing had changed and they both knew what was at stake if she and Walker crossed a line and got caught. Talking about it didn’t change any of it. The fact that he still believed she hadn’t crossed it tore at her heart, but not enough to change her actions. Justin had gone off to meet Ethan with a promise to call later. She told him not to bother; she’d meet him on the bus in the morning.

She ought to care about the risk she was taking. If she had any sense at all, she’d slip the Do Not Disturb sign on the door, lock the door and pretend to be asleep when Walker showed up. She ought to do a lot of things, but for the moment all she could think about was being alone with him.

At the sound of the knock on her door, she came out of the chair like she’d been electrocuted. Steadying herself on her heels, she grabbed her wrap and her bag and crossed the room, pausing to peer out through the peephole before opening the door. Finding Mrs. Walker on the other side one time was enough to keep her from ever opening a hotel room door without knowing who waited on the other side first. Walker stood in the hallway, wearing a dark-gray suit with a lighter gray silk tie. He looked like sin come to life and her pulse kicked up just seeing him. He ran his hand through his hair and she realized he was as nervous as she was. It didn’t help anything, but at least she wasn’t the only one struggling.

Running a shaking hand over her dress to make sure everything was straight, she opened the door. When he saw her, he sucked in his breath and she felt her skin flush.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice sounding rough. “Much better than Travis usually does for these things.”

Smiling, she pulled the door closed behind her without inviting him into her room. No reason to add gasoline to the fire that already burned between them. Walker let her get a step ahead of him before he rested his hand on the small of her back.

“Fuck.” He bit back a groan as his touch burned against her bare skin.

Instead of pulling his hand away and putting them both out of their torment, he slid it slightly to the side under the softly draped fabric of her dress to cup her side. His touch was demanding, possessive, and completely inappropriate. She couldn’t take a chance on someone seeing the married senator with his hand on her bare back. No matter how good it felt or how much she wanted his hands on her skin.

“You can’t do that,” she said, stepping away from him. His fingers tightened reflexively on her waist but she managed to pull out of his grip.

“I don’t know how to stop.”

“You don’t have a choice,” she said, draping her wrap over her shoulders and covering her exposed back.

She took an extra step away from him so she wouldn’t have to inhale the scent of his aftershave. It was like olfactory foreplay. She couldn’t breathe him in and not want him. When the elevator door slid open and she saw the older couple already in the car, she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and stepped inside, grateful for the company. She didn’t trust herself alone in a closed space with Walker. Not with the memory of his touch still burning her skin.

When the door slid open on the lobby, he ushered her out, his hand hovering over her back without touching her. It took much too much effort on her part to stay a step ahead of him rather than to sink back into his touch the way she wanted to. But she’d fight the good fight as long as she could and hope it was long enough.

The doorman held the door for them and as they approached, a driver stepped out of the black SUV waiting at the curb.

“I’ve got it,” said Walker, opening the back door so she could slide inside the cool, dark interior.

The senator climbed in after her and the backseat seemed to shrink in size. It was as if he sucked up all the additional oxygen in the space and the only way she could breathe was through him. His normal security guy climbed in the front seat beside the driver. She’d gotten so used to the light detail Walker traveled with, half the time she forgot they were there.

“Did Sandra and the girls get on the ground okay?”

Talking about his family seemed like the only way to put distance between them in the too-tight space, but if the mention of his wife fazed him, he didn’t let it show.

“Yes, this morning.” He looked at her across the dimly lit interior, his dark eyes pinning her in place.

She didn’t know what she’d been thinking. She didn’t stand a chance. Not this close to him. Not when she could smell his aftershave and practically feel the heat radiating from his body. She could lie to herself and him and say it was work, but before the night was over, she would strip herself bare and offer him all of her. Everything that came before just increased the ache.

Delaying the inevitable, they rode in silence the short distance to the Winthrop mansion. The wealthy widow of a North Carolina furniture magnate was one of the state’s most influential donors. Travis said she’d been thrilled to host the fundraiser for Walker. From the size and opulence of the compound spread out in front of them, Haven thought she could have probably spent less money and gotten herself a private island somewhere. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get to the point where she was completely comfortable in settings like this, places where people wore their money like a second skin, gilding everything in their path. It was a different planet from the one she’d grown up on.

The SUV stopped briefly at the guard house before being waved onto the wide circular drive leading to the main house. They stopped at the base of a set of concrete stairs that would have done Rocky proud, and Haven gave a brief thought to her four-inch heels before accepting the driver’s hand. Walker hurried around the car to meet her, tucking her hand under his arm in a gesture so formal it couldn’t be viewed as anything other than appropriate from the outside. Her body’s reaction to being so close to him, however, was anything but. She felt the bunch of his muscles under her hand and remembered exactly what those arms felt like pinning her body beneath his.

She was so screwed. If she could think straight, she’d be disgusted with herself for being so willing to jeopardize everything she and Justin had worked for, but she couldn’t manage to see past the wanting. She stole a quick glance over her shoulder at the SUV, and then she took the tiny voice pleading with her to beg a ride back to the hotel alone and shoved it into a box where it wouldn’t trouble her the rest of the night. Keeping her hand on Walker’s arm, as much from desire as necessity, she started up the stairs.

“Where do you think they’re going?” she asked when she heard the car door close behind them. After half the run of steps in her heels, it amazed her she could still speak without sounding winded.

“Play cards maybe? I don’t know,” said Walker.

They reached the top of the stairs and he shifted his arm so his hand came to rest on the small of her back in a way that made her forget why she asked the question in the first place.

“Whatever it is, it will be more fun than this,” he said, tipping his head toward the door. “Inside there it’s going to be all ass kissing and intrigue.”

He winked at her and she swallowed her laughter as the massive oak door opened and a white jacketed butler ushered them inside. The multistoried open entryway had more in common with the Louvre than a private home. Huge portraits in massive gilt frames lined the wall and Haven’s heels clicked on the gorgeous sheets of marble covering the floor. Walker nudged her, reaching for her wrap, and she realized she’d been staring wide-eyed at the room around her.

Closing her mouth and getting a grip, she slipped the shawl from her shoulders and handed it to Walker, who passed it to the waiting...footman?
Did people still have those?
Of course, with the grand, sweeping staircase and attentive servants, she felt like she’d stepped into an episode of
Downton Abbey
. The urge to be home in her yoga pants watching PBS was a palpable thing.

“Mrs. Winthrop and her party are through here, sir,” said the butler, motioning to a doorway off the side of the enormous entry.

Haven could see the corner of a crystal chandelier and hear the buzz of murmured voices, soft Southern drawls layered over the tasteful strings playing barely audibly in the background. As soon as she walked into the room filled with people who had more than enough money to buy a country, let alone an election, they would know she was a fraud. That she was the daughter of a schoolteacher and a factory worker, playing in a world where she didn’t belong.