The Candidate's Wife (7 page)

Julia could hardly believe her ears. Before she could think of a suitable reply, though, Adam reappeared and took her elbow. "Excuse us, Mother. It's time for the first dance."

Julia was still stunned as Adam led her away. But maybe this bitter old woman was right. Maybe Adam was damaged somehow, rendered incapable of love by a childhood devoid of warmth and affection. Certainly Adam's history with women could be used to prove that point. Who could blame him, with a mother like this?

Adam was speaking to her again. She blinked as he repeated the question. "I asked, Can you waltz?"

"Yes, passably well, I think." Julia gave silent thanks to her mother, who had forced Julia to join her for ballroom dance lessons the previous year.

"Just follow my lead." He paused, and a hint of a scowl darkened his expression. "And, Julia, please try to loosen up. You look like a hog on the way to the slaughterhouse."

His last comment hit her like a slap in the face. Heat rose in Julia cheeks as she trailed Adam onto the empty dance floor. By the time he turned back to her, she was ready to explode with fury. Adam owed her common courtesy, at the very least. She opened her mouth to tell him so, but at that very moment the band struck up Strauss's "Emperor Waltz".

Adam took her into his arms. His hands were warm on her waist, his eyes intent on her face, and she needed to concentrate on the steps to keep up with him. She took a deep breath to stem the tide of
her anger as he whirled her about the dance floor with easy, impersonal skill. Again, Julia realized, he was performing for the cameras.

The knowledge only fueled her rage. How could she ever have admired this arrogant, selfish, pretentious, manipulative. . .she ran out of adjectives, but her fury felt good, clean and raw enough to chase away her anxiety as she danced with Adam in front of so many strangers.

Adam lowered his mouth to her ear again. "You haven't told anyone about our deal, have you?"

"I promised I wouldn't," Julia snapped.

Adam caught the anger in her voice. He couldn't miss it. He pulled away, but his smile never faltered. He was too slick for that, too poised to betray his surprise. For the rest of the dance, he left Julia to her thoughts.

No, she'd told no one about her agreement with Adam. Despite the buzz in the office after the announcement, only Valerie had tried to intrude on Julia's privacy. The others regarded her with interest and a little awe. Julia suspected that they hadn't wanted to risk offending the boss's bride-to-be. It saddened her to realize that she would never find close friends among her office mates, but it was one more price she would have to pay for accepting Adam's proposal.

The dance ended. Adam bent to kiss her. At the last moment, Julia turned her head so that his lips landed on her right cheek instead of her lips. Pleasure skittered through her body anyway as his mouth blazed a fiery path to her ear. Her pleasure ended abruptly, however, when Adam hissed three furious words. "Smile, damn it!"

Julia obeyed, treating the crowd to a false but dazzling smile as Adam led her from the dance floor. Her smile was genuine, though, as she waved to Danny, her mother, and her three brothers. They looked a bit dazzled themselves. "See you tomorrow," she mouthed in her son's direction. He nodded, apparently not upset about spending the night with his grandmother and uncles in a hotel.

Adam dragged her from the ballroom and through the hotel lobby, where Phil waited. He beamed at them. "Congratulations, kids. You're booked into the honeymoon suite at the best hotel in town, but don't get used to it -- we're back on the road again tomorrow morning, after the strategy meeting. Adam, you've got that fund-raising dinner and two speeches down south. Julia and Danny will go along, of course."

"Thanks Phil." Adam dropped Julia's hand and took her arm in his steel grip as he led her toward the double doors leading outside. "Keep smiling," he told Julia, under his breath. They stepped out into the night together and braved another gauntlet of reporters and photographers on the way to their black stretch limousine. The chill October air raised
goose bumps
on Julia's bare arms. Fragments of shouted questions drifted to her ears.

"Senator Carmichael, where did you meet. . .."

". . . how long have you known. . . ."

"Is it true that. . . ."

". . .because of your reputation. . ."

". . .for the publicity. . . ."

"Julia, what do you think of. . . ."

Adam merely grinned and waved. Julia lifted her chin and tried to look like a woman who'd just married the man she loved. She wasn't half the actor Adam was, but she hoped she'd pulled it off -- despite the fact that love was the very last thing she felt for Adam just now.

He helped her into the limo, then slid in himself. Silently, he raised the glass barrier between the back seat and the chauffeur. Finally, he turned to her, and Julia noticed his tense jaw, along with the frigid rage in his eyes. A muscle twitched in his cheek. Still, he kept his voice smooth and even. She admired his steely control, though it frightened her a little.

"Is there a problem, Julia?"

Her temper flared as she met his eyes squarely with her own. "Yes, there certainly is a problem. Maybe we didn't marry for the usual reasons, but I -- I am your wife, and you can at least treat me with a little respect!"

She waited for an explosion, but instead he raised his blond brows. Puzzlement clouded his classic futures. "Julia, I apologize if I offended you. What exactly did I do or say that showed so little respect?"

"You called me a hog." It sounded ridiculous when she said it, and a flush warm her cheeks.

Adam froze for a moment, his eyes searching hers. Then he threw back his head and roared. The warm, throaty, genuine sound of his laughter filled the back of the limousine. "Oh, hell, Julia," he said, when he recovered himself, "it was only an expression. You're much too sensitive, sweetheart." His gaze swept over her slender form with arrogant, possessive calculation. "You look nothing like a hog." He chuckled again and shook his head in cheerful disbelief.

Adam's laughter only fueled Julia's anger. She wanted to slap away the amusement that sparkled in Adam's eyes and curled the edges of his mouth. He was the most infuriating man she'd ever met. "I'm not one of your lackeys, Adam. You can't order me around," she said. "I won't put up with it."

He stopped chuckling. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her face. "Are you threatening me, Julia? Because if you are. . . ."

Despite herself, Julia shivered. There was no denying the power of the man seated beside her. It wasn't merely his physical presence that overwhelmed her, though he had
a
solid, muscular build. There was something more, a hint of ruthlessness beneath the smooth charm, perhaps, or a certain steel in his gaze. She suddenly wondered whether she had -- almost literally -- made a deal with the devil.

"Well, Julia? Are you threatening to bring me down? Because you could, you know, if you go to the press with the truth about our marriage." He continued to stare at her, his eyes glacial.

Julia's gathered the tatters of her courage around her. She needed to show Adam that she wasn't afraid of him, and at the same time reassure him of her loyalty. When she spoke, her voice sounded surprisingly calm and steady. "I wouldn't do that, Adam. I'm just asking that you treat me decently when we're alone, not just when some reporter happens to be listening in."

To her surprise, Adam relaxed and slowly nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I can be overbearing sometimes. I know that. Phil's pretty good about calling me on it. Apparently, so are you. Tell you what -- I'll try to be on my best behavior, and when I slip up, you just let me know."

"Fine." Julia felt her anger drain away, but some of her wariness remained.

Adam seemed sincere. Still, she couldn't be sure. What if his apology was also an act? She didn't know her new husband well enough to separate genuine regret from careful political calculation. She stifled a sigh as the limousine whisked them through the city streets. What if, in marrying him, she'd made the biggest mistake of her life?

"Here it is -- the honeymoon suite. Enjoy your stay, Senator and Mrs. Carmichael."

Adam tipped the bellhop and glanced around. A huge oak four-poster bed dominated the room, which also held a white leather couch, a full bar, and a small antique table with two chairs. The balcony beyond included an impressive garden and a steaming hot tub. The suite also boasted a commanding view of the city and the lighted dome of the capitol building.

With effort, Adam suppressed a frown. He'd pay for all this from his private accounts, money he would rather spend on his campaign. But Phil had insisted he go all out, and Adam knew his campaign manager was right. He had to make this marriage look convincing. His political life depended on it.

He turned to Julia, whose blue eyes sparkled as she took in the thick, spotless white carpet and the expensive gilt wallpaper. She stepped to the middle of the room and spun in a slow, admiring circle. In her ivory silk dress, with her dark curls cascading over her shoulders like shimmering satin ribbons, she made a very pretty picture indeed. Her wedding gown emphasized her slender arms, the exquisite curve of her breasts, and her tiny waist. Adam bit back a curse. If he'd had any idea how beautiful Julia actually was, he never would have married her.

The moment he'd seen Julia coming down the aisle, he'd known he was in trouble. He had approved Phil's choice precisely because Julia had seemed like the perfect political wife -- quiet, prim, proper, not too attractive, the type of woman who would convince voters that the "playboy politician" had finally decided to get serious. Now, however, he realized his mistake. Julia was indeed gorgeous, and breathtakingly so.

She had a temper, too. She'd proved it again in the limo. Adam scowled as he crossed to the minibar, fetched a crystal tumbler, and poured himself a Scotch. Julia now wielded considerable power over his future. Damn, but he hated that fact. He couldn't afford to trust her, no matter how sweet and naive she seemed. For all he knew, she had the heart of a viper. What kind of woman, after all, would agree to marry a stranger? He couldn't be sure of Julia's agenda, and until he knew her better he'd have to keep a close watch over his new bride.

He sipped his drink as Julia sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked the silver brocade bedspread. She caught his eye. "This is really gorgeous," she said, her voice weighted with awe. "I've never seen such a fabulous room."

Adam couldn't stop the smile that crept over his face. She looked like a child with a new toy, totally delighted, completely lost in the moment. Even her slight awkwardness charmed him. After a lifetime of witty, sophisticated, somewhat cold women, Adam found himself enchanted by Julia's apparent innocence. But was it real, or some kind of put-on? He couldn't tell.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked.

Julia shook her head. "I don't think I should, not on an empty stomach. I was too nervous to eat anything at the reception."

"How about some dinner? I can order room service."

She threw him a grateful look. "Would you? It doesn't matter what. Meanwhile, I can't wait to get out of this dress." Color flooded her cheeks, adding to her beauty. "I mean, I need to change into something more comfortable. I mean -- never mind."

Adam chuckled at her discomfiture, though he also found himself aroused by an image of Julia unclothed. He tried to push away the mental picture. This was a political arrangement, nothing more. He'd have to remember that.

"I think you'll find your luggage in the sitting room," he said, "through that door to the right. Phil had it sent over this morning. While you're gone, I'll have something sent up."

"Thank you." She slipped from the room, her cheeks still crimson.

Adam scanned the menu, called for room service, then shrugged off his tuxedo jacket. He sighed as he settled back on the couch to finish his drink. With his girlfriends, it had all been so easy. They were amusing but interchangeable, and he never let his weekend romances interfere with the serious work of governance.

But Julia was different. There was something about her that threw Adam off balance. She unsettled him, distracted him, made him lose his cool. He'd let her get under his skin in the limo, and he'd nearly blown the whole deal.

That couldn't happen again. He wouldn't allow it.

While Adam waited in the suite's main room, Julia dug through the clothes in her duffel bag with growing dismay. As a single mother and a struggling college student, she never spent much time or money on her wardrobe. She usually slept in an oversized T-shirt. On cold nights, she added a pair of sweatpants with holes in the knees. Not an impressive outfit, certainly, and not one she'd ever imagined a man would see.

Then again, who was she trying to impress? She scowled as she pulled the T-shirt and sweats from her bag. Adam had married her to save his campaign, not to share his bed. For a brief moment, Julia allowed herself to consider what it might feel like to experience a real honeymoon night with Adam. She imagined his strong, slightly rough fingers blazing trails of flame over her skin, and his lips --

Julia gritted her teeth against the fire kindling in her body. Adam's wedding kiss had stoked an ember that now flared hot where there had been only cold ashes. With a shake of her head, she forcibly rejected the fantasy and the kaleidoscope of sensation it provoked. She didn't trust Adam. She barely even liked him. So why did her traitorous body react so strongly to his touch?