by Ciana Stone
"And what've you turned up on that?"
Stork shook his head. "Not much. I found out that Cassie was in Italy some years ago when Alexander was there making a deal on some equipment for the nuclear waste tracking system. So, I guess it's possible they could have run into one another. The thing is, she didn't even work for the agency then. She started working with us a few months later. Anyway, I'm at pretty much of a dead end in that area. The point is, Mrs. Alexander could’ve kept that under her hat, but she didn't. So, I believe her."
Smith leaned back again and studied Stork for a long time. He and Stork had been friends for a long time, and he knew Roger wouldn’t place that kind of confidence in someone unless it was well founded.
"So," he spoke up, "what does this mean to us?"
Stork shook his head, "I wish to God I knew," he answered then looked down at the table for a moment. "But I tell you Andy, there's more to this whole thing than is apparent. I've got a feeling that there's someone else involved. Someone who's behind the scenes and who's doing a damn good job of staying hidden."
"Then where do we go from here?" Smith asked.
"We find out who that someone is."
Washington, D.C.Later than Evening
"Are you ready?" Victor asked as he opened the bedroom door.
Morgan looked up into the mirror of the dressing table where she sat putting on the earrings he’d given her earlier that day. With glittering diamonds surrounding large topaz stones, the earrings matched her necklace perfectly.
"I'm nervous," she said as he walked up behind her.
He put his hands on her bare shoulders and leaned down to kiss the side of her throat. "You’ll be fine. Just relax and enjoy yourself. These people are no different than you and I."
"Easy for you to say," she stood and faced him. "You're used to being around these people. I'm not." She searched his face. "You still haven't told me what the occasion is. What’s this reception all about?"
"Soon," he said and kissed her lightly. "Now, shouldn't you dress? Our guests will arrive soon and while I find you delicious this way, I'm sure you don’t want to meet the press in your present state of undress."
"The press? You mean reporters will be here?"
"Don't let it bother you," he laughed, "it's just some television news people along with various newspapers and possibly a few magazine people."
"Oh, great, now I really am nervous. Victor, I don't know about this. I mean, I'm just an average person, some half-breed from the sticks. I don't belong in this kind of place or situation."
Victor cupped his hands around her face and tilted it up. "Shhh. There's no need to be afraid. Now listen to me. You’re not just some 'half-breed from the sticks', as you put it. You’re a beautiful, intelligent, educated woman anyone would be honored to know. Don't sell yourself short."
She smiled up at him, knowing he was trying to make her feel better. "Thanks," she said then averted her eyes. "I just wish I could feel as confident as you sound. But the people who’ll be here tonight run this country, Victor. They have prestige and power and are accustomed to it and to dealing with others like themselves. But me? Come on, let’s be honest. Where do I fit in this picture?"
She was feeling very small, insignificant and inadequate, sure that she’d somehow embarrass herself or Victor. And it wasn’t simply a matter of feeling inferior. She had a problem agreeing with people whose views she didn’t share. And she didn’t agree with a lot of what these people supported.
For the most part she had an instinctive mistrust for anyone connected with the government. And she had never been especially shy about expressing her disapproval of things she thought were wrong. She really didn’t think she would fit in at all.
Victor turned her face back up and looked into her eyes. "You’re the woman I love," he breathed. "You fit by my side. Is that not enough?"
She moved closer, wrapped her arms around him and rested her face on his chest. I don't know.
*****
A servant dressed in white stood outside the study door, having answered a summons from Victor. Inside the room, Victor and Juro were involved in a private conversation.
"Has everything been arranged?" Victor asked as he removed a small bottle of eye drops from the desk drawer.
"As you ordered," Juro replied, watching as Victor put the drops into his eyes and blinked several times. The drops seemed to increase the fire that burned within their smoky blue depths.
"And all of the alcohol has been prepared?"
"Yes," Juro answered. "By evening's end all those present should be at your command."
"Excellent," Victor smiled. "Let Hans in."
Juro opened the door, and the servant entered. A tall blond man with a heavy German accent, Hans, was one of Victor's most trusted men.
"Make sure she drinks none of the beverages served," Victor instructed him. "In the kitchen are three bottles of champagne with the Vinsetti crest. That is the only thing you will serve her."
Hans nodded, "Yes, Mr. Vinsetti."
Victor walked up to the man and stared down at him. "Do not take this assignment lightly, Hans," he warned. "I charge you and you alone with this responsibility. Don't fail me."
Hans nodded, "I understand, sir. I will guard her with my life."
"Exactly." Victor replied then waved the man away.
He straightened his tie, gave Juro one last look, then walked out of the study to go fetch Morgan.
"Are you ready now?" Victor looked into the bedroom but didn’t see Morgan.
"As I'll ever be," she said and emerged from behind the dressing mirrors.
He smiled appreciatively. "You’re exquisite. Every woman here tonight will be green with envy and every man will wish he were in my shoes."
"Oh, sure," she laughed, not believing a word of it. She picked up her shoes and slid her feet into the high heels. "But I have to say," she looked up at him. "You look fantastic. If anyone is envious here tonight, it will be because every woman will be looking at you and wishing she were going home with you tonight."
He walked to her and kissed her tenderly. "I'm glad you approve. Thank you for being here with me. It makes me very happy."
She leaned against him, "I hope I don't make a complete jackass out of myself. I wouldn't want to embarrass you."
"You’ll be perfect," he replied then embraced her tightly. "Tonight is just the beginning."
"The beginning?" she pulled back and looked at him. "Of what? Are you going to tell me what this is all about?"
"Not yet," he laughed as he released her and held out his arm. "Shall we?"
"Might as well."
*****
The President made his way through the crowd with the First Lady on his arm. They stopped here and there, shaking hands and speaking briefly with people. A servant delivered glasses of champagne which they accepted and sipped as they worked their way across the room.
Morgan felt the butterflies in her stomach increase. Nervously, she pulled at the top of her dress. Victor had it made especially for her by a well-known designer and while it was exquisite, it wasn’t the kind of dress she would’ve chosen.
The bustier style top pushed her breasts up high, exposing a considerable amount of flesh and cleavage. Fitted tightly, the bodice hugged her, dropping to a point just below the navel then flaring out slightly in a softly draped skirt that brushed the floor.
The material was of the deepest blue, so dark it appeared black until struck by the light. Then it gleamed with blue fire. While she thought it was stunning, she also felt very uncomfortable wearing it.
"Victor!" the President reached them and shook Victor's hand, "Good to see you. You remember my wife?"
"Yes," Victor took the First Lady's hand and kissed it. "Charmed as always," he greeted her. "You look especially lovely tonight."
She flushed and smiled with the compliment, obviously under the spell of Victor's charisma and good looks.
"Please allow me to introduce my
beautiful companion," he put his hand low on Morgan's back. "This is Dr. Morgan Masters. Morgan, you of course, know the President and his lovely wife."
"It's an honor to meet you both.” Victor's introduction took aback her, using her mother’s maiden name.
"And you, Dr. Masters," the President smiled. "Victor has spoken often about you. Although even his glowing praise of your beauty doesn't do you justice."
"Thank you, sir."
The President put his hand on Victor's shoulder and grinned broadly. "We're looking forward to having Victor on board. I have every confidence he's the right man for the job. And with luck, the confirmation process will move swiftly."
Flashes went off all around them as photographers snapped away. Puzzled by the President's comments, Morgan looked up at Victor and took his arm. He just smiled and patted her hand.
"Well," the President looked around, "looks like everyone is here." He finished his champagne and accepted another glass from a waiter who appeared at his side. "Why don't we get things started and make the announcement?"
"Certainly," Victor agreed. He ushered Morgan through the crowd toward the stage where the band was set up at the far end of the room.
Victor stopped in front of the stage and signaled to the bandleader who silenced the music. The horn section trumpeted a fanfare and the President and First Lady mounted the stage.
Applause thundered through the ballroom. The President held up his hands and smiled. As the clapping died down, he spoke into the microphone. "Good evening. It’s good to see all of you here tonight. On behalf of myself and our gracious host, welcome!"
The crowd applauded again. "Now," he raised his hands for quiet. "The reason we're all here tonight, which many of you already know, is to formally announce something of great importance to us all. Victor, will you join me?"
Morgan looked up at Victor in surprise as he smiled and stepped up onto the stage. "Earlier today," the President explained, "I sent word to the Senate of my appointment of Victor Vinsetti as our next Secretary of State."
The applause was thunderous with numerous cheers ringing out through the crowd. Morgan's mouth dropped open in amazement. The ovation finally subsided, and the President continued, "As many of you know, Victor is a man of many talents. An international leader of industry and business, he is also knowledgeable in foreign trade and relations. He’s a Harvard graduate and is fluent in over twelve languages. After many months of discussions and considering many candidates, it is the consensus of this administration that he is the only logical choice for this position."
Applause rang out again, filling the room for several minutes. The President and Victor shook hands as the media rushed to the stage, pushing everyone back in their haste to be the first to get to the dais.
People shuffled Morgan back in the crowd as a television camera was pointed at Victor and the President and a reporter called out, "Mr. Vinsetti, a question. If approved, how will taking the position of Secretary of State affect your professional life? And what about your personal life? Will you give up your business empire?"
Victor held up one hand and smiled down at the reporter. "To begin with, my business is virtually self-sustaining. It will continue as it has in the past. As to my personal life, there is someone very important I would like for you all to meet. Morgan?" He looked around, spotted her in the crowd and held out his hand to her.
Oh, dear God. She wanted to hike up her skirt and run, but cameras were pointed right at her and lights blinded her as the attention focused in her direction. Self-consciously she made her way to the stage and took Victor's hand to step up beside him.
"I'd like you to meet Morgan Masters," he said as he reached into the side pocket of his jacket. He dropped her hand and opened the small box he held. An enormous diamond glittered from inside it. Victor removed the ring, took Morgan's left hand in his and slid the ring on her finger.
"Morgan is the woman I love and want to marry," he announced, then looked down into her eyes. "If she will have me."
The assembled crowd burst into deafening cheers and applause as Morgan looked from the ring on her finger to Victor. She was speechless and didn’t know what to do or say. Too bad she hadn’t hiked up her skirts and run while she’d had a chance.
"Well?" Victor asked as the noise died. "Will you marry me, Morgan?"
A hush fell over the room as everyone waited for her reply. Leave it to Victor to do this in front of the whole damn world! She didn’t like being put on the spot this way. At last, not knowing what else to do, she nodded. "Yes," she whispered.
The crowd cheered and clapped wildly as Victor took her in his arms and kissed her long and slow. The President stepped over and draped his left arm across Victor's shoulders as Victor held Morgan tightly to his other side.
Raising his right arm in what looked like a victory salute, the President smiled widely as the cameras clicked away. Morgan looked up at Victor, who was smiling, as was the first lady who walked over to stand beside the President.
It seemed she was the only one on the stage who didn’t feel celebratory.
*****
The evening passed in gala fashion. Before a couple of hours passed Morgan felt as if her feet had been stepped on by every politician in America. Champagne flowed endlessly as tray after tray of hors d'oeuvres were consumed.
The number of people increased as many celebrities dropped by to congratulate Victor. Morgan's mind was in a whirl as she stood among all of them. Time after time she was whisked onto the dance floor by famous men, just glimpsing Victor through the crowd now and then.
At last she broke away and wandered to the edge of the room, looking around for Victor. For several minutes she’d been unable to locate him, and she was a little tired of trying to make small talk with people she’d discovered she had no interest in at all.
A waiter passed by with a tray of champagne glasses. Taking one, she raised the glass to her lips. Victor appeared as if by magic at her side just at that moment and snatched the glass from her hand.
"Don't drink that!" He said somewhat sharply.
"Why?" she looked at him in surprise.
He smiled and leaned over to whisper in her ear, "It is domestic. We drink only the best."
She shook her head. Sometimes Victor had strange attitudes. Hans appeared with two glasses. Victor gave him a scathing look as he took the glasses and handed one to Morgan.
"To us," he toasted, then drained his glass. "I haven't danced with you in ages. Shall we?"
Morgan sipped from her glass then handed it back Hans. "Could you please get me a glass of ice water?" she asked as Victor pulled her away.
Gliding across the dance floor in his arms, she finally unwound a little, relieved to be dancing with someone whose feet landed on the floor instead of her toes. The band played several slow selections. Held snugly in his arms, Morgan let the music sweep her away and lost herself to the feel of his body against hers. The noise of the crowd and the inquisitive looks seemed to fade away.
"Have I told you recently how beautiful you are?" Victor whispered.
"No," she replied as her hand caressed his face. "Not in the last hour or so," she added teasingly.
"You are the most beautiful woman in the world," he said, tilting her face up with one finger. "I love you, Morgan."
She smiled and just then the music changed. The slow easy sound was replaced by a pulsing Latin beat. Victor smiled seductively and twirled her around.
She laughed. Victor loved this music and the dances that went along with it. He spun her again then moved his body against hers as she whirled back to face him. Expertly and seductively he led her into the dance. Their bodies met and parted, sinuous movements carrying them across the floor in provocative grace.
The dancers thinned around them, people watching in envy and admiration as they gave themselves to the dance. With their eyes locked, Morgan saw the desire written within him and returned it in kind. The heat from his body felt like an inferno t
hreatening to consume her.
She forgot the people around them and thrilled to the feel of his muscular body as he molded against her. For that brief moment nothing else existed. Then the music died and was replaced by enthusiastic applause.
Blushing hotly, she clung to Victor's hand as he led her from the dance floor smiling widely.
The event lasted far longer than she expected. By the time the last of the guests left Morgan felt like she'd had been standing forever. She sat on the bottom step of the huge winding staircase in the foyer, pulled off her shoes and rubbed her feet. Hans walked over with another glass of water.
"Oh, thanks!" She said gratefully and drained it. "I feel like a camel.”
Victor ambled over to where she sat. Hans nodded to him, took the empty glass and departed. Victor took off his tie, removed his jacket and tossed it over the banister. Then he sat beside her, unbuttoned his shirt and looked at her. "Tired?"
"My head's just buzzing from all the noise. What time is it anyway?"
"Almost three," he answered, looking at his watch. He stood and held out his hand to her.
She raised her left arm and let him pull her up. He looked down at her hand in his. The big diamond glittered like a star on her finger. "It looks good on you," he remarked.
"Yes, it's beautiful, but about the ring, Victor–"
"You don't like it?" he cut in before she could say more.
"Oh no, it's not that!" She walked a few steps away. Whenever he spoke in that cutting tone, she felt it prudent to put a bit of space between them. "It's just that I don't know if I'm ready for what it means."
The way he'd proposed annoyed her. By doing it in front of a roomful of people, not to mention the entire news media, he made it impossible for her to do anything but accept. She didn't like being manipulated and that's exactly what he’d done.
"But you said yes," he crossed quickly to her and griped her arms.
