The Gentlewoman (4 page)

“Shall we go shopping for furniture? I really need to get my
condo finished.”

“Certainly.” He signaled the waiter for the check. “How did
you like your dinner?”

“It was very good. I like this place. It’s very relaxing.”
In spite of the intimate dialogue, she did feel relaxed. Once she looked past
the fact that she was with Mr. Sexiest Man Alive, she felt herself unwinding.
The thought made her nervous. She needed to keep her guard up. He was a
politician too, and she didn’t need the multitude of trouble this man could
bring her.
Keep this very friendly and platonic,
she reminded herself.

Jackson followed Rory through the various seating
arrangements and designer pieces at the furniture store. As they approached a
cream-colored sofa, he sat down heavily.

“I like this one. How about this one?”

Rory snorted and sat down on the beige sofa across from him.
“That one looks exactly like your sofa. I like this one.” She patted and
squeezed the sofa she was sitting on. She moved on to select a coffee table and
end tables and then turned her attention to the bedroom furniture.

Walking ahead of her, Jackson flopped down on the first bed
they came to. “Now this is more like it.” He patted the bed next to him in
invitation.

“In your dreams, Dorn. I already have a new mattress and box
spring. I just want an actual bed and dresser or two.”

“You still have to try it out. You can’t buy a bed without
lying in it first.” He rolled onto his side and patted the mattress again.

Rory walked farther into the bedroom department and moved
toward a traditional missionary-style set. The headboard and footboard had
wooden slats and the matching dressers were traditional, just her style. She
stretched out on her side. To her surprise, Dorn quietly slid in behind her.
She turned and gazed into his gorgeous baby blues.

“Did somebody invite you to share this bed with me?” She
blinked with amusement, even to her own surprise.

“I was hoping you would ask me to share your bed.” He
grinned widely. She was a little stunned at his audacity. “Do you sleep on the
left or right, Morgan?”

“Get the hell out of here,” she said, scooting to rise from
the bed. He caught her around the waist and held her down, spooning her.

“Come on, which side?”

“Let me go, you ass.” She squirmed, laughing.

“Left or right? I need to know.” His right arm squeezed her
around the waist, and his left arm wrapped around her shoulders. Rory stilled
and closed her eyes. Warmth wrapped around her and she felt the muscles in his
arms and chest contract as he squeezed her gently. He whispered in her ear. “I
like this bed. I like the slats. They’re good for attachments.” His warm breath
sent a shiver through her. His body heat seeped into her and she melted into
him, her own breath catching, her body tingling. His nose nudged her ear and
rubbed down her neck. She took a deep breath. He felt really good.

“What kind of attachments?” She wasn’t sure she really
wanted to know but couldn’t resist asking. She breathed heavily, his arms so
big and strong around her. She placed her hands on his forearms.

“You feel so good. You smell good too.” He inhaled deeply,
his nose buried in her hair. “Handcuffs and other fun things. Could you handle
that?”

Rory stiffened. Anger sliced through her. What the hell was
she doing? She pushed against him, sat up and steadied herself.

“You’re funny. I don’t remember placing myself on the menu.
You don’t need to know what I can handle, and I’d rather not know how you like
to spend your free time.” She took a steadying breath, brushed her hair back
and rose to her feet.

She made a show of checking out the dressers. She didn’t
want to show how ruffled she was. She wasn’t even sure why. She lost her senses
when she was around Jackson Dorn. She was in DC to represent her constituents.
She didn’t need this hot bastard mixing her up.

She left the area to seek out a salesman. Minutes later he
caught up with her and as he hovered, Rory chose the exact finishes and
slipcover designs for her new furniture. A half-hour later, everything was
wrapped up and her living room furniture would be delivered by week’s end.
Unfortunately, the bedroom set would be several weeks, as it was not in stock.
She’d have to remain sleeping on the mattress on the floor for the time being.

As they got into the car and closed the doors, Jackson
turned to her. “Rory, I didn’t mean to offend you back there. I was just
flirting. It’s what I do.” He smiled at her hopefully.

She gazed into his eyes. Damn but he was beautiful. She
couldn’t deny the effect his handsome face had on her. She sighed in
resignation.

“It’s fine, Dorn. To be honest, I usually keep to myself and
my tight group of friends and supporters. It’s just been easier that way since
the attack.” She caught herself off guard by mentioning it to him.

She wasn’t being totally honest. It was her reaction to
him
.
Nobody had ever had this effect on her. Last night she had kissed and flirted
with him so freely. She liked it. She liked him, and she really liked his body
wrapped around hers. But it scared the shit out of her that he could make her
vulnerable. She couldn’t trust him.

She stared straight ahead. It was just easier to avoid any
situation that required any level of trust.

“I’m glad you’re not mad. I had a good time tonight.” It was
obvious he didn’t believe for a minute that she wasn’t a little upset.

“Thanks, me too. Thanks for dinner. I really liked that
restaurant,” she offered as she finally met his eyes.

Jackson started the car and they drove home in relative
silence. After saying good night, Rory let herself into her apartment, relieved
and anxious at the same time. She washed up and climbed onto her mattress,
sighing deeply as she lay back. As she relaxed and reflected on the day, she
vowed to herself she was going to stay away from Dorn. Jesus, if they got that
close and personal going to dinner and shopping for fucking furniture, what the
hell else would happen?

She was frantic. Aidan had called and said to be in front
of the building at two, that he had something to discuss with her. The way he
had spoken frightened her. He said her father was in trouble and needed her.
What the hell could that mean? She hit the speed dial on her phone assigned to
Special Agent Tagg. For the third time it went straight to voicemail. Fucking
FBI, just when she needed them they weren’t hovering. She stood in front of
City Hall and looked around. Traffic on Lakeside Avenue was very light at this
hour. What should she do? His voice had sounded strange and she felt
threatened. The FBI had warned her against going off with him alone, now that
it was getting near the end. But what could she do? Her father wasn’t picking up
his cell phone and the office phone went unanswered. That never happened at the
station.

Should she refuse to go with him? He would be suspicious.
The investigation might be jeopardized if he was tipped off at this point. He
was already constantly questioning her on her day, where she had gone, whom she
had met with. She knew her time was limited before he became volatile. The FBI
was going to bust him any day. They were just busy building their evidence with
more taped phone conversations. They kept saying they just needed a few more.
They were taking their sweet fucking time.

As she began to dial her father’s second in command, a
large black SUV with tinted windows pulled up. The back window lowered and
Aidan appeared.

“Get in the fucking car or your father is a dead man.”
The door opened, and she didn’t hesitate to get in, panic rising in her chest.
The driver sped off toward the Shoreway. She looked out the window, wondering
frantically where they were going as a hard punch landed on the side of her
face and knocked her against the door. He grabbed her hair and yanked her back
to his side.

“Now we’re going to go meet up with Daddy, sweetheart,
and we’re all going to have a little talk about why it’s not nice to side with
the FBI over the man you married. You fucking bitch.”

Rory jolted awake and sat up. She looked down at her hands,
clasping the comforter, knuckles white. Releasing them, she breathed deeply,
trying to still her racing heart. It had been getting better, the dreams not
coming nearly as often. This one had been clear and detailed the events exactly
as they happened. She wiped her forehead and leaned back, trying to slow her
breathing.

She had been diagnosed with PTSD when the dreams started.
Even the doctor was surprised at their clarity and sequential nature. She had
suggested it was a sign of intelligence, as if to make Rory feel better. It was
fucking hell. She was told it was guilt feelings making her relive what
happened, and that she should forgive herself for not being able to save her
father and try to move on. She put that in the category of things that were
easier said than done. She had tried, and still tried very hard, every day.

Rory looked at the clock, six-thirty a.m. She climbed out of
bed and dragged herself to the kitchen. The dreams always left her feeling
scared and lonely. They had dissipated throughout the three years since it
happened. This past year they had been almost nonexistent, with most of her
energy spent on the Trojan Japan deal and getting the appointment to the
congressional seat. She leaned against the counter and took a long drink,
hanging her head and breathing in deeply. Why did they come back out of the
blue? If she could just determine the trigger, she could figure out a way to
avoid them altogether, she thought for the millionth time. She shook her head
and exhaled hard, peering over the counter to the windows beyond the living
room. It was snowing. A run would help.

Jackson stood at the kitchen window sipping his coffee.
There she went, the good Congresswoman Morgan, off for a run in the morning
cold and snow. How tenacious. He smiled and raised a wicked eyebrow as she bent
over and touched her toes, stood and pulled her foot to her ass. That was some
nice spandex. His eyes followed her every move as she lunged and straightened
her back knee, stretching each calf muscle in turn. His dick was getting hard
just watching her.

Rory Morgan was not the type of woman he wanted to make a
mistake with. He didn’t know if she was capable of having casual sex, no
strings attached. But damn if he didn’t want her. She had been through a lot
and he didn’t want to add to her troubled life. He had thought of her all night
long and had gotten up to shower in the middle of the night so he could jack
off for the third time. Honestly, it was like being in high school again. He
had to get a handle on her demons. If he knew exactly what she had been
through, the detail of it, he could determine the way to best get what he
needed, in and out of the sack.

He hit a number on speed dial and watched Rory disappear
down the street at a brisk jog as the call connected.

“Good morning, Congressman. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
The sexy female voice on the other end was sultry, smooth.

“Agent Durand, how are you this morning?” Jackson replied,
still peering out the window.

“Better, now that you’re calling. It’s a little early for a
visit, though. You’re just waking me. It’s been awhile, surely you’re not that
insatiable?” Her husky voice was hopeful.

“I need a favor. I need a look at a case file and all the
final recorded findings and close-out details.”

“I’m always willing to help out a friend, Congressman. But
it’s been awhile since you and I spent any time together. I was wondering if we
were still acquaintances at all.”

“Agent Durand, you’re a friend for life. I’ve just been busy
getting the session started. My schedule has been tight, but I was planning on
calling you when things slowed. Meanwhile, I could really use this information.
It would help to move things along for the taxpayers, if you would help me
out.”

Agent Jennifer Durand had supplied him information in the
past and he had repaid the favor in the most tantalizing ways. The good agent
was one of the better sex partners he’d had in the past couple of years. She
had a fetish that included toys and anal sex and she also liked to play with
other fascinating ladies, which made it all the more interesting.

“I suppose I could help you out. Never know when I might
need a return favor. What’s the case?”

“Rory Morgan, Cleveland, Ohio.”

“Oh really, Congressman? I wonder what could have you so
interested in that little tidbit.” She gave a knowing snort.

“I have my sights set on getting her on our committee to
secure additional funding for Homeland Security, Agent. I know that cause is
close to your heart.”

“Sure, Congressman, I understand. However, I might have a
hard time with this one. Last I heard, that file was in lockdown with the other
higher-profile cases in the director’s office. I’m not sure I could secure
access. Even if I did, I would really be putting my own position at risk. I’m
not sure this is worth my job.”

“What if I made sure to make it worth your risk, Jennifer?”
He heard her breath hitch at the other end of the phone.

“What would that entail, Jackson?”

“I know what you like. I would be very happy to accommodate
your tastes, should you take this risk for me.” His voice was darker, richer.
“I remember what you feel like. Do you remember how it felt when I was behind
you, giving it to you hard and fast, making you come so hard for me?”

“Oh I remember very well. Maybe we could have a party. I
always liked our little parties.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged, but I need your help. You
help me, and we’ll spend an entire night, just the two of us, and a guest or
two of our choosing.” He knew he had her.

“Quite tempting. Well then, I’ll see what I can do.” She was
breathless. “I’ll let you know when I have something for you. If you’ll excuse
me, I have a pressing need to take care of before I start my day.”

Jackson hung up the phone and thought about the situation.
He needed that file and he hoped Agent Durand could make it happen. He would
reward her by tying her up and fucking her ass, among other things. The thought
used to make him hard. Now the only thing making him hard was the congresswoman
across the hall. Thinking about tying her up and fucking her got him hotter
than hell.

Rory was on the Hill by nine Sunday morning. She was anxious
to look over the details and do some strategizing on the needed amendment to
the appropriations bill for the EPA.

As she dropped her coat, satchel and purse onto the chair
just inside her office door, she turned on the overhead light and moved to the
desk. Picking up the files she and Nicole had made on the members of each
committee, she flipped through until she found Appropriations. Taking her seat,
she went through each page, spreading the contents around her desk. One by one,
she reread the bios of the members. She paid special attention to their voting
history and titles of legislation they had supported.

She picked up her dry erase marker and wrote eleven names on
her board. She needed eleven more votes for the amendment to pass. These were
probably her best bet.

She slowly read them aloud to herself. “Brown, Donnelly,
Marshall, Richards, Koepler, Duncan, Moore, Goodhouse, McNeil, Arness and
Dorn.” As she pondered, she wrote them again, this time in alphabetical order.
What would work best with each one to ensure the vote? According to her careful
review, these names represented those members who were either politically
like-minded to herself, had no opinion on the shipyard deal whatsoever, or in
the case of Brown and Donnelly, had once showed animosity toward her
competitor, Powell. She had to exploit what she could.

There was only one person on the list who was not a member
of her party, and that was Congressman Dorn. But he was staying on her list.
She could handle him. She’d get his vote for sure.

At three on the dot, Rory met her cab in front of the
building. She was due at Nicole’s for Sunday dinner. Growing up, Sunday dinners
at Rory’s house were a political event one didn’t miss. She sighed and stared
out the window as the cab carried her through DC toward Virginia.

Forty-five minutes later, the cab rolled up to Nicole and
Jim’s new countryside house. As she got out, she looked around at what an
impressive piece of property the Daileys had acquired. There were four acres of
lush lawn rolling around the white farmhouse. It looked as though it should be
on a postcard of the old South. Rory walked up the driveway and let herself in
through the breezeway. Nicole came quickly toward her, baby in arms.

“Hey, I wanted to catch you before you go in there. Landon’s
here. He heard you were on a date last night with Jackson Dorn.” She was smiling
and whispering in a fast clip, as she bounced the fourth and youngest Dailey
boy on her hip. She spun around so the baby was on the other side of them,
supposedly out of hearing range.

“Did you fuck him?”

“No! I didn’t fuck him! Jesus, Nicole, are you getting
laid?” She removed her coat and hung it with her bags by the door.

“I can’t believe you went out with him. You were so adamant
that you wouldn’t give him the time of day. How did that happen?” She was
already beginning to irritate Rory.

“I didn’t go on a date with him. He gave me a ride to go buy
furniture and we stopped and had dinner on the way. That’s not a date.” Rory
held her hands out to take the baby from Nicole. “How’s our Danny boy today? I
haven’t seen you for a couple weeks. You’re getting so big!” She blew
raspberries on the baby’s cheeks.

Nicole moved to the kitchen counter and began tossing a
large salad. “Did you at least kiss him?”

Rory turned and looked at Nicole, bouncing little Danny on
her hip. “It wasn’t like that, seriously. Don’t piss me off.” She wasn’t about
to tell Nicole that she had kissed Dorn on Friday night. She’d never hear the
end of it.

Rory sat at the bar and balanced the baby on her knees. She
knew Nicole wasn’t trying to make her mad. She was doing what she had been
doing for the past two years—trying to help Rory become normal again. She felt
guilty that her friend worried so much for her, and that she couldn’t do more
to return to the person she used to be. She tried, but it was never quite
right.

Nicole set a glass of ice cubes and a Diet Pepsi on the
island next to Rory and came around to take the baby. “Well, I’m here to tell
you, there isn’t anything wrong with you getting a little something from the
hot congressman. You could use the distraction. Go on in there; Landon’s been
waiting for you. But watch him. He’s not particularly happy about rumors your
first weekend in town.”

Rory sighed and poured her Pepsi into the glass. She stared
at it until the fizz died down, mentally girding herself to walk into the other
room and deal with the force that Landon McCollum could be. Her uncle and his
political agenda. Rory learned early to never forget that it all came down to
politics.

She picked up her glass and walked through the open archway
that led into the living room. Landon and Nicole’s husband, Jim, were sitting
opposite each other on brown leather couches watching football on a big-screen
TV. As Rory entered, they both stood and took turns hugging and kissing her.

“There she is. How’s my girl?”

“I’m fine, Uncle Landon. How are you?” She knew it was
coming. She took note that Jim immediately fixed his full attention back on the
football game.

“I’m good, thank you, sweetheart. How are you getting
settled into the office?” He sat back down and patted the seat next to him on
the couch.

Landon McCollum was a handsome man in his early sixties,
with a slim, muscular build and silver hair. He was charismatic and had enjoyed
a lengthy political career. He always surrounded himself with the right people,
from Cleveland straight to DC.