Scandalous (17 page)

“Thanks, Ms. Hamilton,” Simone beamed. “I really appreciate it.”

“Your visit won't conflict with your work with Mr. Montgomery?”

Simone grinned confidently. “I think I can work something out.”

Vaughn's eyes widened in amusement. “I'm sure you can, young lady. I'm sure you can.”

 

Justin had dropped off Chad and then Simone. Vaughn had followed his lead in her car. He stepped up to her window after seeing Simone safely inside. Vaughn grinned up at him. “Where to?” she asked.

“How do you feel about an overnight guest?”

Vaughn smiled that slow, sexy smile that made Justin's stomach muscles tighten. “I'm sure I don't have anything for you to sleep in,” she teased suggestively.

“I'm sure we can find something for me to sleep in, and I can guarantee that it will fit like a glove,” he tossed back in a low, silky voice.

The slow heat of anticipation wound its way through her veins. “I feel a long night coming on.” She winked and rolled up her window, then waited for Justin to return to his car, and they took off toward her townhouse.

 

In the kitchen, Vaughn prepared a pitcher of strawberry daiquiris while Justin selected some music for the CD player. She entered the dimly lit living room and placed the hand-carved tray with their refreshments on the coffee table.

Luther Vandross's “A House Is Not a Home” played soothingly in the background. Vaughn picked up their drinks and handed Justin his.

He reached for the glass, took a sip, then placed it on the mantel behind him. He turned toward her, giving her a smoldering look. “Did I tell you that you look incredible tonight?”

From the hunger in his gaze, Vaughn was glad that she'd decided to change into the gray satin lounging outfit. She took a slow sip from her glass, then placed hers next to his on the mantel. “As a matter of fact you did,” she answered huskily.

Justin reached out and snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her close. Vaughn rested her head on his chest and let her eyes slide shut. Easily they glided together as one being to the sensuous sound of Luther.

“Feeling better?” Justin whispered into her hair. He felt the slightest hesitation in her step and knew that he'd been right. “You want to tell me about it?”

The firm but gentle cadence of his voice was almost enough to crumble any resistance that she had. She expelled a long, wistful sigh. “Simone seems like a wonderful girl,” she said slowly, temporarily evading the question until she could put words to her emotions.

“Yes, she does. Did she measure up to my description?” He felt her nod her head in response. He waited, hoping she would say more, but she didn't.

The song ended and the CD player switched disks. The soul-stirring voice of Oleta Adams filled the room with “Get There.”

“When are we going to get past the secrecy, Vaughn? When are you going to start trusting me?”

She heard the weariness in his voice, the hint of frustration. Guilt pricked her conscience.

“It's just that…well, nothing, really…”

Justin pulled slightly back to look down at her, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of returning his look. Instead, she pressed herself closer against him, as if she could burrow her way beneath his skin. They fell back into step.

“It's just what—what's been bothering you tonight?”

She wanted to just stay snuggled in his embrace, to listen to the steady beat of his heart, feel his warmth as the music washed over them. But instinctively she knew that Justin wasn't going to let her get away with it this time.

“I guess it's a combination of things,” she finally admitted.

“I'm listening.”

She took a deep breath and then told him about her argument with Crystal earlier in the day.

“…It just really bothers me that after all these years of knowing each other she'd think so little of me. I can't understand why she can't see that I'm only looking out for her.”

Justin slowly shook his head and chuckled softly, the closeness of their bodies causing vibrations to ripple through her in a delightfully sensual way.

“What's so funny?”

“Vaughn, no one likes to be told that the person they care about is no good for them. Of course she got defensive. Look at what happened between you and your father. Perfect example. I'm sure Crystal views you as someone she admires as both a friend and an employer. Someone she respects and quite possibly may be jealous of in some regard. So coming from you, it was probably a blow to her ego. By telling her that she should check this guy out, you were questioning her ability to make a good choice and she lashed out at you.”

She angled her head back and looked up at him. His gaze widened in inquiry. Her bottom lip curled into what could only be described as a sneer.

“You just don't know how it ticks me off when you're right.”

His eyes swept over her face and he gave her a wicked grin. “You must stay mighty ticked, seeing as I've been right about us since day one.” He pulled her closer and nibbled on her ear. Her whole expression softened. She glided her hands up and down his back in time to Anita Baker's “Giving You the Best That I've Got. “Hmmm,” was all she could say, as she let her body go with the music.

“How about if I go for the jackpot?” he hummed in her ear. He didn't wait for an answer. “You said it was a combination of things. So what else is bothering you? My senses tell me it has to do with Simone. Would you like to tell me why?”

C
rystal stared sightlessly up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. She looked across at David's peacefully sleeping form and all the things that Vaughn had said came crashing back.

As much as she hated to admit it, everything Vaughn implied was true. How much did she really know about David? Their whole world existed in her apartment. She'd never been to his. He claimed that he lived in a one-room apartment that was barely furnished and suitable only for someone who had no intention of being there for any length of time.

Yet even though her subconscious nagged her about the voids in their relationship, she'd been so bowled over by his attention that she didn't hesitate in sharing every aspect of her life with him. He seemed so interested—always wanting to know how her day went, what were they doing to ensure Vaughn's victory, and she'd always been candid, happy to share her triumphs, her strategies.

Now that she really thought about it, however, David's interest almost exclusively centered around her work and the campaign. A prickling of dread skittered up her spine. No. She was just being paranoid. Vaughn's innuendos that David had ulterior motives had gotten to her. After all, didn't he bring her flowers every time he came to see her? Didn't he buy her lovely gifts every time he went on a business trip? She was wearing one of the three satin teddies that he'd purchased. Didn't he tell her how much he cared about her when they made love?

Of course, all those things were true. She was being silly. But as much as she tried to convince herself, that uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach would not go away.

 

Elliott hung up the phone in his study. His thick fingers braced the edge of his desk. Slowly, he surveyed the paneled room. One full wall, from floor to ceiling, was lined with heavy bound books covering everything of significance that had been written about the law. He'd never had time for recreational reading. His reading time was reserved for scholarly pursuits that would keep him abreast of every statute, appeal, and case across the globe.

His record on the bench was exemplary as a result of his seemingly limitless knowledge of the law. He ran his courtroom much like he ran his life, with iron-clad control. Ultimately it had afforded him an abundance of success and a coveted position on the Superior Court bench. His dream was to attain a place in history as a Supreme Court justice, following in the footsteps of Thurgood Marshall. It could happen. It would happen as long as his plan did not become unraveled by the potentially scandalous behavior of his daughter. However, even that was no longer
a problem. He'd seen to that as well. Now, it was only a matter of time.

Vaughn just didn't understand. Their course was set years ago when he and Senator Willis were first launching their careers. They were in this together. He was so engrossed in his reflections that he didn't hear Sheila enter the thickly carpeted room until she spoke.

“It's two A.M., Elliott. When are you coming to bed?”

He blinked several times, shoving back the memories. He puffed out his chest and gently massaged the bridge of his nose. He looked up at his wife for a long moment. She was still so beautiful, he realized. Feelings of warmth quietly filled him. The sudden sensation shocked him. It had been so long since he'd felt anything other than the need to control. An overwhelming sense of loss swept through him, stinging his eyes and clenching his throat. For a brief moment he wanted to take his wife in his arms and turn back the clock. He sighed. Of course, that was impossible.

“Elliott?” She stepped closer. “Are you all right?” For a fleeting instant she swore she saw his expression soften when he looked at her. But then it was gone and she wasn't sure if she'd seen it at all or only wished it. He had on his public face, the one she'd come to live with. He and Vaughn were so much alike in that way, she mused, though not unkindly. They had the ability to shield their innermost emotions behind a mask. She, however, was not so talented. Even now she felt the lines of worry stretch across her forehead and the hollowness fill her eyes.

Elliott cleared his throat, pushed himself away from the desk, and stood up. “I was just on my way up.” His voice was laden with a weight that Sheila knew he would never share. That part of their life was over. His voice was so
low when he next spoke that it barely reached her. “Will we be sharing the same room tonight?”

Did she hear a hint of hopefulness in the question, or was it only her deepest desires ringing through her ears again? She smiled tightly. “I think that would be best.” She started to walk toward the door. “There's no need to give the housekeeper something to gossip about,” she added quietly. She reached for the doorknob and stopped. She turned expectantly toward her husband.

He came up behind her and gently put his hand on her shoulder. There was so much that he wanted to say—to tell her how sorry he was that she didn't love him anymore—how sorry he was about the way their lives had detoured. But he couldn't do that. It was eighteen years too late for regret.

“You're right,” he answered pompously.

 

Tension ran through Vaughn's body and tightened it like a coil. How did she think she could hide her feelings from him? She'd been unsuccessful at that since the day they met.

Justin ran his hand slowly up and down her thigh. He knew he'd hit pay dirt when he felt her muscles tense beneath his fingers. He might have fallen into the habit of letting her sidestep his questions before, but not tonight. He had an undeniable sense that whatever was troubling her went very deep and maybe—just maybe—it was the root of her resistance. He wanted to know what Simone Rivers had to do with it.

The music ended and Vaughn eased out of Justin's arms. She moved toward the couch and sat down heavily. She looked up at him. His eyes grazed over her, taking in every nuance. Slowly he crossed the room and sat opposite her in
the loveseat. He leaned slightly forward, his arms braced on his thighs. All his attention was riveted on her face.

Vaughn looked away—out toward the terrace—and down at her hands, which lay perfectly still in her lap. Where could she begin?

As if he'd read her thoughts, Justin said, “Why don't you start at the beginning.” His voice was warm and comforting. Vaughn felt as if she could just wrap herself in it like a favorite comforter. His voice did that to her.

She smiled shyly. Then, methodically, she took him back with her eighteen years, to when she was a young, impressionable girl hungry for love and affection. She'd found it in Brian Willis's arms. “He was my first love.” She took a deep breath and her gaze drifted off as she was swept away with her memories. “Brian was killed in a car accident a month before graduation.” Her eyes filled, and a single tear slid down her prominent cheek. “He was Senator Willis's son, you see,” her voice catching in her throat. “And it wouldn't have been…right.” She hesitated for so long that Justin thought she wouldn't continue.

The memories overwhelmed her, choked her like noxious fumes. She felt the endless sense of loss carve a hole in her stomach.

Justin wanted to reach out and take her in his arms and make her hurt go away. At the same time, he wanted to ask her what was the significance of Brian being the senator's son. What wouldn't have been right? he wanted to know. But witnessing this metamorphosis of buried pain transform her, he realized that she'd been right all along. Some things were better left unsaid. Guilt pounded at him. “Vaughn, baby, you don't have to say more.”

“Simone looks so much like him,” she blurted out suddenly. Justin's eyes widened in astonishment. She
covered her mouth to stifle the sob that bubbled up from her throat.

The corners of her mouth trembled when she tried to smile. She wiped the tears away with the back of her hand and sniffed. “You couldn't have known. It was just—such a shock when I first saw her.” She swallowed hard. “All the memories just came rushing back when I saw her tonight.” She sniffed again. Her eyes shimmered with tears. She wouldn't meet his gaze. “I guess it will just take some getting used to. They say we all have a twin somewhere.”

Justin studied her and knew instantly that there was more to this than she was telling. He inhaled deeply and let out a long breath. This was not the end of it he determined. No more questions, no more prying, at least for now. He'd told her once at the start of their relationship that their pasts were behind them, and he wanted them to start new lives, with new memories. And still he tried to get her to talk about things from her past that she couldn't handle. Whatever it was obviously was too painful for her to deal with. The entire evening, from Vaughn's uncharacteristic behavior to her last revelation, left him with some disturbing questions. The pieces all had jagged edges, but somehow they fit together.

“They also say we all look alike,” he chuckled lightly, pushing away his unsettling thoughts. Justin pushed up from his spot on the loveseat, rounded the table, and sat next to her on the couch. Without words they were in each other's arms. Justin lightly caressed her hair and placed tiny kisses on her cheeks. “I'm sorry,” he murmured. “I shouldn't have pushed the issue. We're all entitled to a degree of privacy about our lives. I guess I was in my gang buster mode.” He felt her laughter ripple against his chest.

She tapped him playfully on the nose with the tip of her finger. “You definitely haven't lost your touch.” She pressed her head against his chest and threaded her fingers through his. The steady beat of his heart against her ear was like a soothing balm to her spirit.

“Let's see what else I haven't lost,” he uttered in a low rumble.

 

The sun was barely up in the sky when Justin eased from beneath Vaughn's heavenly scented quilt. They'd made plans to spend the rest of the weekend at Virginia Beach, and he wanted to get an early start. He still had to return to his house and toss a few things in a bag. He'd let Vaughn sleep until he returned.

Lovingly, he studied her sleeping form. This was what he wanted, he knew, watching the steady rise and fall of her breathing. He wanted to be able to come home to her every night and wake up with her every morning. He wanted her at his side.

Silently he eased down and placed a kiss on her smooth ebony forehead. She stirred in her sleep and he swore she whispered his name. Justin smiled at the possible reasons as he vividly recalled the torrid night of passion they'd shared. His groin throbbed just thinking of it. Who would ever believe this woman, who came across to the public as a level-headed, conservative, hard-nosed politician, was actually the most erotic, insatiable woman he'd ever met? He shook his head in amazement and padded off to the bathroom.

Vaughn slowly pushed herself up through the final veils of sleep. Her heart thumped suddenly as the misty notion of something unsettling enveloped her. The first thought that materialized was Simone. Images of the young woman stood before her unfocused eyes. Her stomach dipped as
if she were racing downward on a rollercoaster ride. The sound of running water invaded her senses. Slowly a feeling of security replaced the uneasiness as it retreated to the recesses of her mind and was soon forgotten. “Justin.” She sighed contentedly and stretched, then slid out from beneath the cover. A trail of goosebumps broke out over her nude flesh. She gasped as the cool morning air brushed against her skin as she ran toward what she knew would be the heat of the bathroom.

She giggled like a scheming teenager as she turned the knob on the door. Maybe, if she worked it right, which she was confident she could, she'd convince Justin to take a quick jog with her before they set off for the day. And perhaps she'd convince him of a few other things in the meantime.

 

By the time Vaughn returned to her office on Monday, her whole attitude regarding the blow-up with Crystal was behind her. After talking it out with Justin and turning it over in her own head, she knew what she had to do. She was in no position to cast aspersions. What Crystal did in her private life was her own affair. If Crystal wanted her advice, then that's when she would give it. She and Justin had spent a wonderful weekend at his cottage in Virginia Beach, and she had no intention of coming down from the cloud she was on.

Her happiness was like a beacon as she walked quickly down the hallway, greeting the staff as she headed to her office. She felt like she could take on the world and silently giggled, wondering if that's what good lovin' did to you.

She pushed open her office door, swung it closed behind her, and nearly choked on her own smile when she spotted Crystal sitting in her favorite spot in the little alcove behind the door.

“Crystal,” she sputtered. Her pulse raced off at a fast trot, then settled. “You scared me right outta my pantyhose,” she said, reciting the chant that was a longstanding ritual between them.

She waited for Crystal's practiced response but it didn't come. Instead Vaughn's gaze was met with uncertainty. Hesitantly, she reached out and touched Crystal's shoulder in a gesture of peace. “I just hope that you keep right on sittin' there, giving me a reality check every morning.” Her throat tightened and she swallowed back the lump. “I don't know what I'd do if you weren't.”

Crystal blinked to keep the tears from spilling. Then suddenly they both spoke at once.

“Vaughn, I just…”

“No, I jumped…”

They both erupted into infectious cleansing laughter and found themselves hugging. “Listen to us,” Vaughn said after several long breaths, gaining a semblance of composure. “Two perfectly intelligent women, babbling like idiots.”

Crystal stood back and took Vaughn's hands in hers. “I know you just had my best interests at heart.” She lowered her lids, then met Vaughn's steady gaze. “I can handle it,” she said with quiet conviction.

Vaughn gently squeezed Crystal's hand and smiled reassuringly. “I know you can.”