The Candidate's Wife (8 page)

She frowned again and reached around to unbutton her dress. She'd wear whatever she darn well pleased. She couldn't care less what Adam thought. But hard as she tried, the tiny mother-of-pearl buttons skittered away under her awkward fingers. She bent her wrists at an almost impossible angle as she struggled to undo them.

Julia muttered a few choice words under her breath. Quick tears stung her eyes. It had taken two women to button her up that morning, and she quickly realized that she would not get out of her wedding gown by herself, not without damaging the dress.

Before she could change her mind, Julia marched back into the main bedroom. Adam sat on the white leather couch, one arm thrown over the back, his eyes focused on some unseen point, his mind no doubt hard at work on a campaign problem of one kind or another.

"Adam?"

He blinked and sat up straighter. "Something wrong?"

She nodded. "My dress. I -- I can't seem to get out of it on my own."

A look of wry amusement replaced his formerly abstract expression "Really," he said. "That is a dilemma. How can I help?"

Julia turned around, her spine stiff and her chin held high. "Unbutton me, please."

"No problem." As he pushed her hair aside, his fingers brushed the bare skin on the back of her neck. She felt the touch all through her body like a mild electrical shock. Julia closed her eyes. He began to unbutton the dress, slowly. She held her breath as she felt each fabric loop spring free. To her annoyance, Adam seemed to be taking his sweet
time. He
seemed to know what his proximity did to her. Was he taunting her?

Again, the pads of his fingers brushed her bare back. Her heart hammered in her chest until she felt sure Adam must hear the thunder of it. The buttons ran down past the small of her back, but halfway through the process the tension grew unbearable. She took an abrupt step away and spun around. "That's fine," she said. Her voice sounded high and strange. She cleared her throat. "I can handle it from here. Thanks."

Adam chuckled softly. "Anytime."

Julia rushed from the room, but not before she caught a glimpse of Adam's smirk. Her face flamed as she peeled off her dress and changed slowly, allowing herself time to calm down. She chided herself for allowing Adam to get under her skin, but by the time she'd washed her face and woven her hair into a thick braid that fell halfway down her back, her heart once again beat at its normal speed.

When she stepped back into the suite's main room, Adam sat at the table, which now held a covered silver tray, a bottle of wine, and a platter heaped with fruit, cheese, and chocolates. He took in her appearance with insolent eyes and a single, arched brow. "The Cypress Point Pirates?"

Julia glanced down at her T-shirt. "My son's soccer team."

"I see. Why don't you have my personal assistant take you shopping tomorrow morning? Lucinda has impeccable taste. If that --" his glance indicated her pajamas -- "and the suits you wear to headquarters are any indication, you'll need a completely new wardrobe for the campaign."

Her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment as she crossed the room to sit across from Adam. She bit her lower lip nervously. "I -- I can't really afford --"

Adam made a dismissive gesture with one hand. "You'll put it on my account, of course. You're my wife now, Julia. Your appearance reflects on me." He lifted the silver lid covering the tray. A savory smell tickled her senses. The two plates held mouth-watering salmon filets, golden sliced carrots, and garlicky mashed potatoes, still steaming. "In politics, appearances are everything," Adam added. "You should know that by now."

His cynical tone made Julia's heart ache. "But --" she began.

"Look, it's been a long day." He rubbed one bloodshot eye with the heel of his palm. "Please, no arguments. Let's just eat."

Julia nodded and picked up her fork. After the first bite, she needed no encouragement. The food was excellent, and she soon cleaned her plate. Adam ate silently, too, though with less obvious enjoyment. Again, he'd retreated to a place Julia couldn't follow. His expression was grim when he finally laid his fork aside.

"What's wrong?" Julia asked.

He glanced over at her. "Don't worry about it. It's not your concern."

Julia frowned, surprised at how deeply Adam's mood affected her. She felt a sudden need to comfort him, or at least share his burdens. She wanted to believe it was only because she, too, had a stake in the results of the campaign, but a tiny voice in the back of her mind told her it was more than that. She patted her lips with her snowy linen napkin and laid it beside her plate. "Adam, it seems to me that everything's my concern now. We're in this together, aren't we?"

"Do you mean that?"

"I really do."

He let out a heavy sigh. "All right, you asked for it. The truth is, my campaign's in trouble. Norris is flooding the airwaves with advertising, and we're trying to keep up -- but the well's going to run dry long before Election Day." His jaw tensed. "This is all strictly confidential, by the way."

"Of course." She felt a pang of sympathy for the man sitting next to her, the man who was now legally -- if not fully and truly -- her husband. The weight on his shoulders made him seem more human and less the larger-than-life politician she had worshipped from afar. "But I thought the Carmichaels --"

His lips twisted into a humorless smile. "I'm far from broke, sweetheart, but my personal funds are a drop in the bucket compared to the kind of money we need now. Norris has some corporate backers with very deep pockets."

Julia nodded. The names of Norris's donors read like a Who's Who list. "I know, but he's sold his soul to get them on board, hasn't he? Norris spent his first term doing favors, and if he wins again he'll do the same thing. You, on the other hand -- you're not for sale. You ought to be proud of that." She broke off as she caught the fiercely admiring note trembling in her voice. Again, she'd let emotion sweep her away.

But Adam only shot her another bitter smile. "Yes, I've managed to come this far without compromising myself. A hell of a lot of good my integrity will do me, though, if I lose this election."

"You're wrong. Your integrity is everything. Besides, there's always next time, isn't there?"

Adam pushed his plate aside and shook his head. For the first time, Julia noticed the fatigue burning in his eyes. "I've cashed all my chips on this one. If I lose, there won't be a next time." He stood and stretched, his sinewy muscles cording and bunching under his white shirt. But his broad shoulders sagged, and his usually silky voice came out husky and frayed. "Look, I've got some papers to read over before I hit the sack. I'll work in the next room so I won't disturb your sleep."

"All right." Julia cleared her throat. There was only one bed in the suite. Her cheeks burned, but she needed to ask. "About the sleeping arrangements. . . ."

Adam tossed a sardonic chuckle over his shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll take the couch tonight. Sharing a bed is definitely not part of the bargain. Besides, sweetheart," and he laughed again, "you're not my type."

As he strode from the room, Julia stared after him. Anger and
humiliation
coursed through her veins. She had no intention of allowing Adam into her bed. So why did his last, dismissive words feel like four razor-sharp arrows piercing her heart?

Julia woke the next morning to find Adam already gone. She didn't see him again until after lunch, when she and Danny joined him in the back of his chauffeured Mercedes for the trip to the fundraiser. She'd just completed her shopping trip, and wore one of her new outfits.

Adam's gaze slid over her. He seemed to drink her in with his eyes. The air between them took on an almost electrical charge as Adam completed his inspection. "Nice," he said. "Didn't I tell you Lucinda had excellent taste?"

Julia glanced down at her maroon silk blouse and the pencil-slim skirt that hugged her hips and showed off her long, slender legs. "Actually, this outfit was my choice. Lucinda was wonderful, though. I hope I didn't let her talk me into buying too much."

Julia winced as she remembered the dozens of Neiman-Marcus shopping bags she'd filled with expensive dresses, skirts, blouses, shoes, cosmetics, fragrances, accessories -- the material things she'd lived without for so many years, when every penny went to groceries, tuition, car repairs, shoes for Danny, and a hundred different necessities. She had never before shopped without seeking out the sale items, without regretfully bypassing anything with designer labels. It had proved a heady experience.

Adam grinned and raked his eyes over her slim figure one final time. "Whatever the cost, I approve of the results." He tapped on the glass between the front and back seats. The driver pulled away from the curb and headed for the freeway. Adam leaned toward Julia's son, who sat between her and the window.

"So, Danny, you look pretty sharp yourself. Is that suit new?"

Danny nodded shyly. He'd joined in for the last leg of the shopping trip. "Yeah. Thanks, I guess."

Adam grinned. "Clothes are pretty boring, huh? Maybe the next time you can buy something for your new room. What would you like?"

He ducked his head. "I dunno."

But Julia could tell Danny's greedy little mind was working a mile a minute. As she leaned over to brush back a stray strand of his dark hair, she couldn't suppress a smile. The solemn expression on his sharp-featured face made him look years older, and hinted at the good-looking man he would eventually become. "Come on, Danny," she said. "You can do better than that. How about that video game thingy? What do they call it? An X-box*, or something."

Danny's head came up. His face glowed with excitement. "An X-Box?" His eyes darted from Julia's face to Adam's. "Really? Do you mean it?"

Adam shrugged and smiled. "Sure, if it's okay with your mother."

"Mom, please. Please, please, please." He steepled his hands under his chin, his eyes bright.

"I think that might be all right." She slipped into her stern, mother-knows-best voice. "As long as your grades don't slip, that is."

"Cool!"

Danny filled the rest of the trip with his happy chatter. Adam had made another conquest, though Julia wasn't sure she liked the way he'd done it. After all, opening his wallet wasn't nearly the same as opening his heart.

Danny's
excitement
didn't last, however. Two hours later, as the fund-raising dinner began, he sat with Julia at their table near the podium and made no effort to hide his boredom. Instead, he toyed with the chicken breast and baked potato on his plate.

Volunteers had gone all out to decorate the room. Snowy cloths covered the tables. Red, white, and blue balloon bouquets floated in every corner. Banners bearing Adam's name hung on the walls. Silver-haired men in tuxedos, well-groomed younger women with expensive jewelry winking and sparkling around their necks -- Adam's supporters obviously came from a world very different from her own.

Julia felt like an impostor, a fraud whose true identity might somehow be exposed. In a moment, she would have to join Adam at the podium, and endure the crowd's attention. The prospect made her shudder. Surreptitiously, she wiped her wet palms on the linen napkin on her lap. She smiled grimly. None of her education and training as a political scientist had prepared her for her new role as Adam's wife. She would have to learn on the job, and, with the election looming, there was no room for error.

Just then, Adam -- accompanied by Phil, the local party chairman, and two burly security officers -- entered the reception hall through a side door. A hundred pairs of eyes swiveled in his direction. Even Danny glanced up from his plate. Adam brought a new tension into the room, an electrical current that energized the crowd and brought the babble of conversation to an abrupt halt. As Adam mounted the steps to the microphone, the crowd burst into spontaneous applause.

"Good evening," he said, in a deep, solemn voice. Somehow, he managed to charge the most ordinary words with extraordinary importance. His gaze swept the room. His eyes seemed to linger on each and every face.

"Before I begin my speech, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce two very special people." He paused for effect. "My beautiful bride, Julia Carmichael, and her son Danny. Julia, Danny, would you join me for a moment?"

On cue, Julia stood and made her way toward the platform. Danny hesitated, but Julia shot him a threatening, behave-or-no-dessert look and he stood to follow her. The cheers and applause rose to deafening levels as Julia reached Adam's side.

Adam wound his right arm around her waist, then bent to plant a kiss firmly on her lips. It was hardly a shock. She'd expected it. Brief, casual kisses in public were all part of the charade.

But this kiss was neither brief nor casual. This was the real thing.

Adam's mouth lingered on hers, softened, and sent a jolt of mingled surprise and pleasure up Julia's spine. Caught unprepared, Julia felt her lips part involuntarily as Adam deepened the kiss. His tongue probed her mouth. His hands caressed the small of her back and pulled her body tight against his.

Then anger gained the upper hand, and she responded instinctively, without considering the consequences. She caught Adam's upper lip between her teeth and gave it a quick, furious nip. Though she had meant it as a warning only, she immediately tasted blood -- his -- and watched a second tiny red bead of it well up on Adam's lip.