“I can’t…” she muttered under her breath, but the sentence died in her mouth before she could finish it. Panic tightened around her throat, making speech impossible.
Beside her, Vanessa threw back her head and laughed, like she’d said something outrageously funny.
Stung, Brittney just gaped at her.
Vanessa gave Brittney’s arm a gentle squeeze. “If they know it hurts you, it makes the feeding frenzy worse.”
Brittney nodded in understanding. Vanessa had always had a reputation as a wild child. Just last summer, Vanessa had had a tumultuous fling with polo player Nicolas Valera. There’d been gossip aplenty about that.
Taking advice from someone who’d weathered her share of storms, Brittney gave a trembling smile. “Right. Thank you. I—”
She broke off as she glimpsed Connor watching her from across the lawn. She didn’t have a chance to read his expression because suddenly Cynthia Rotham was bearing down on her.
“Well, well, well,” Cynthia practically cooed with glee, “if it isn’t the Last Good Girl in America.”
Brittney’s panic hardened into resolve. She refused to be cowed by Cynthia Rotham. “You know, I’m really starting to hate that title.”
“Don’t worry, darling, you’ve already lost it.” The veil of kindness dropped from Cynthia’s face as she leaned forward. “I’m surprised you had the guts to show your face today. You always struck me as such a spineless creature, not good for much but looking demure in pictures. Yet here you are. I can’t decide if it’s admirable or stupid.”
Cynthia’s arrogance was almost too much to bear.
Vanessa tried to wedge herself between Brittney and Cynthia like a human shield. “Why don’t you go spew your venom on someone else?”
Cynthia glared at Vanessa. “Ah, Vanessa. Are you two friends all of a sudden? Do we have your influence to thank for Brittney’s new loose morals?”
Brittney wasn’t about to let Cynthia verbally knock Vanessa around. “I make my own decisions and my own mistakes. So back off.”
“This was more than a mistake.” She let loose a cackling laugh. “Little Miss Prim and Proper was caught with a man she barely knows. The backlash will do wonders for your father’s career.”
Brittney swayed. Hearing her worst fears voiced aloud made her light-headed. But before she could voice a rebuttal, she felt a hand on her elbow. She knew in an instant who it was.
Connor.
At the soothing stroke of his hand on her arm and the faint whiff of his scent—woodsy and masculine—something inside of her relaxed.
He extended a hand to Cynthia. “I don’t think we’ve met. Brittney hasn’t had time to introduce me to all of her friends yet.”
Cynthia narrowed her gaze suspiciously. And didn’t take his hand.
He left his hand in midair, all but forcing Cynthia to extend her own.
As he shook her hand, he added, “I’m Connor Stone. Brittney’s fiancé.”
Beside him, Connor felt Brittney tense. She might have been turned to stone. He could only hope her larynx was frozen as well. If he was going to throw himself under the bus to save her, he damn well didn’t want her blocking his dive.
He talked fast, not giving the women a chance to speak. “Boy, we got caught, didn’t we? Here we were, trying to hide our relationship just a little bit longer, and we goofed.” He squeezed Brittney’s shoulder. “Brit, why don’t you introduce me to your friends?”
He recognized Vanessa Hughes, of course. Since she was standing shoulder to shoulder with Brittney, he assumed they were friends. The older woman, on the other hand, was clearly little more than a vulture come to feast on a scandal.
Brittney recovered first. “Connor, this is Cynthia Rotham.” Then she cleared her throat. “Congresswoman Rotham, that is.”
Ah. That explained her obvious panic as well as the woman’s rapacious expression. From what he understood, Congresswoman Rotham was one of Brittney’s father’s most vocal opponents.
He squeezed Brittney’s shoulder while giving Cynthia his best smile. “I think people will forgive us for kissing in public, once they see how in love we are.”
Cynthia scoffed. “Kissing? Is that what it was?”
Connor leveled his gaze at the older woman. “A man’s still allowed to kiss his fiancée in public, isn’t he?”
She ignored the quiet warning in his tone. “If you really are engaged.”
Brittney opened her mouth to speak but Connor didn’t give her the chance. “If it were up to me, we’d be married already.”
Vanessa’s lips twitched in an effort to suppress laughter.
Connor smiled broadly and said, “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Brittney promised to introduce me to all the movers and shakers here.”
As he took Brittney’s arm and led her away, he thought he heard the congresswoman gasp at the implication that she wasn’t important enough to count as one of those movers and shakers.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Brittney whispered, “Fiancé? What were you thinking, claiming to be my fiancé?”
She seemed unaware of the eyes still following them. He gave her arm a squeeze. He’d been squeezing a lot of her body parts this evening, and none of the good ones.
“Smile,” he muttered under his breath. “The congresswoman isn’t watching just now, but a lot of other people are.”
She didn’t miss a beat, quickly fixing a pleasant expression on her face. But her tone betrayed her arrogance. “What the hell are you doing?”
Man, she was good. Years of living in the public eye had apparently honed her ability to hide her true emotions.
He cut straight to the chase. “That picture was a disaster. For you, not me. I’m barely visible in the photo, and other than my elderly grandmother who will probably rip me a new one, no one cares what I do or who I sleep with.”
“That’s a nice image. Thanks for that.”
“You, on the other hand, are easily recognizable. And correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it an election year for your father? Which means that photo—”
“You don’t have to tell me what it means,” she snapped. They’d reached the edge of the lawn. In the dusk, lights strung along the tents glistened off the water, casting the harbor in a glow of warm light. She was obviously in no mood to enjoy any of it.
Keenly aware they were still the objects of curious stares, he settled his hand at the small of her back, knowing onlookers would interpret their actions as lovers seeking a moment for private conversation.
But that simple touch only served to remind him of what he’d touched the previous afternoon. Of the exquisite thrill of burying himself inside her heat. Of the way she gasped out her pleasure as he entered her.
He could think of about a hundred things he wanted to do with her right now. Enjoying a view of the harbor while being gawked at was at about a hundred and thirty-two. Talking about that damn photo was probably fifty slots lower.
What he should really be doing—finding a way to extricate himself from this relationship—was even lower than that. Of course, that was out the question now. Even he wasn’t enough of an idiot to dump her under these circumstances.
But that did not explain why he’d rushed to her defense by introducing himself as her fiancé. That was completely unexplainable. All he knew was that the second he’d seen Cynthia Rotham closing in for the kill, every protective instinct he had leaped to life. He’d spoken with no plan other than distracting Rotham.
Now that they were relatively alone, he said, “Neither of us could have anticipated this. What happened between us yesterday…” He stopped just shy of calling it a mistake. When he’d walked her to her car, she’d clearly been under the impression that sex up against the barn was going to lead to some kind of relationship. “Look, I should have stopped things before they got out of hand. I take full responsibility.”
“You take full responsibility?” she sounded offended. “Why on earth would you be responsible fo
r my actions? I’m an adult.”
“Obviously. If you weren’t, what happened yesterday would be illegal. Not to mention creepy.” He flashed her a smile, hoping to lighten the mood. She didn’t take the hint.
“I’m not joking.” She stared him down with a hard gaze. All signs of the charmingly befuddled woman she’d been yesterday were now gone. “I don’t blame you. It’s not your mistake to take responsibility for.”
“But I have more experience,” he countered. “I should have—”
She tugged her arm from his grasp, still smiling cheerfully for anyone who might be watching as she said, “Yes, but I have more morals. If anyone should have stopped us, it’s me.”
The beginnings of a headache inched across his forehead. He rubbed his thumb across his brow to deaden the pain. “Morals aren’t the issue here,” he said under his breath.
“I just got caught—on film—mere minutes after having sex in public. With a stranger. I think morals are most definitely the issue.”
“The picture looks worse than it was,” he countered.
She glared at him from beneath her lashes. “We had sex up against the side of a barn. In full view of anyone who happened by.” She threw up her hands as if pleading for mercy from some higher force. “The photo actually looks better than it was.”
“True. But if they had a more incriminating picture, they would have used it. No one but us knows what actually happened.”
The image of exactly what had happened between them played through his mind, unspooling in vivid and unforgettable detail. It was an effort, but he shut down his imagination. The last thing this conversation needed was him getting a hard-on. Or worse, coming on to her again.
Yeah, that would work great. Hey, having sex with me just royally screwed up your life, but is there any chance you want to have another go at it?
Unaware of his thoughts, she seemed to be considering his words, probably looking for the flaw in his logic. Finally, her shoulders seemed to relax. Only then did he realize how tensely she’d been holding herself. “Perhaps you’re right. Maybe the photo they printed was the worst one they had.” But she shook her head. “I still should have known better.”
“You made one mistake.”
The look she gave him was one of annoyance mingled with arrogance. “I didn’t make just one mistake. I made the one mistake that could ruin my father’s career.”
“Don’t you think that’s overstating it a bit?”
“No. I don’t. My actions reflect not just on me, but on him as well. The headline proved that.” She shook her head, a faint glistening of tears in her eyes. “My mistake has stirred up all that old gossip about my mother. It’s a disaster.”
“Hey, whatever happened between your parents is their mistake, not yours. If your father blames you for that, then—”
She spun on him, her eyes alight with defensive fervor. “My father may not be the best father, but he’s a great politician. He does amazing things for the good of this country. All he’s ever asked of me is that I let him do his job. And now I’ve messed that up. Even if Cynthia Rotham bought your explanation, she’s just one person. Everyone here has seen those pictures. Everyone who goes to that Web site will see those photos. For all I know, they’re running the story on TMZ right this minute.”
“What, you think I was just stepping in to defend you against Rotham?”
“I think you made a rash decision. You kept Cynthia from breathing down my neck. But she’s far from the only one I’m worried about.”
Before he could reply, her handbag buzzed loudly. She reached inside and pulled out her iPhone. “Great. A text from my father’s senior staffer.”
Grumbling under her breath, she stepped aside to respond.
The truth was, when he first spoke, he hadn’t thought any further than the immediate crisis. He hadn’t considered that the story might reach an audience broader than the gossips here in the Hamptons.
When she looked up, he said, “Okay. You’re right. I didn’t think this through. You’ll have to excuse me. You’re the first senator’s daughter I’ve dated.” At his use of the word “dated,” she quirked an eyebrow. He ignored her silent commentary and pushed on. “I’m not used to life in the limelight. What do you suggest we do from here?”
She eyed him suspiciously. She held her phone in her hands, moving it between her thumb and forefinger like a string of rosary beads. After a moment, she shook her head. “I won’t ask you to fix this for me.”
“I don’t leave my messes for other people to clean up.”
She blanched as if he’d slapped her, and he instantly regretted his words.
“I am not your mess!” she snarled, turning on her heel and vanishing into the crowd.
So much for convincing the onlookers that they were blissfully engaged and planning a wedding.
She was right, of course. She wasn’t his mess. She wasn’t his anything. Nevertheless, he was to blame for this. He’d pursued her.
Knowing where she stood on the subject of casual sex, he’d pushed at her boundaries. He manipulated her into giving in to him. He’d created circumstances he’d known she wouldn’t be able to resist.
And why had he done all of that? Because he was scared of how vulnerable she made him feel. Her own motives were so much purer. She talked about the good of the country and her father’s career. Compared with her, he felt like a selfish jerk.
He prided himself on always getting what he went after. Now, that single-minded determination had gotten them both into serious trouble. And it was up to him to fix it.
Five
She didn’t expect him to follow her.
If her behavior drove him to storm off, it would be a fitting end to her nightmare of a day. She made her way to the catering tent with the shortest line. One of the local Asian restaurants was offering up small takeout boxes brimming with stir-fried noodles and veggies. Brightly colored chopsticks stuck out of the boxes at an angle.
She snagged a box and a napkin, then made her way to one of the tables under a sprawling walnut. She stabbed the chopsticks into the box, digging around for a spear of broccoli. Pretending to eat without noticing the curious stares took all her concentration.
After a moment, Connor pulled out the chair beside her and sat down with his own box of noodles. Even without looking up, she felt his presence beside her.
Her emotions were still careening wildly out of control and she couldn’t muster the strength to offer the apology she knew he deserved.
“I never meant—” he began.
“I know.” It was bad enough that she hadn’t started with an apology. She couldn’t sit here and listen to him apologize to her. She shifted to look at him. “You’re right. This is a bad situation. Blaming one another certainly won’t help. But I just can’t ask you to sacrifice yourself for my mistake.”
“Our mistake,” he pointed out.
“No,” she shook her head, “my mistake. You’re the ladies’ man. You’re the charming smooth talker whom no woman can resist.” His expression seemed to be hardening as she spoke, but she kept going. “I should have been stronger. I can’t fault you for making me forget my standards. They’re mine. If I don’t stand by them, I have no one to blame but myself.”
He tossed his chopsticks onto the table beside his takeout box, then leaned back in his chair. “So what you’re saying,” he spoke slowly and clearly, as if wanting to guarantee that she understood, “is that you don’t blame me because I’m an amoral jerk. You, on the other hand, are to blame for even associating with me. And you should have known better.”
“That is not what I said!”
He cocked his head to the side, his gaze steady and assessing. “Then what did you mean?”
“Just that—” But she broke off, because she couldn’t think when he was watching her so closely. He muddled her mind. And she’d learned the hard way how easily he could trap her with his logic. “What I meant was, I knew what was at stake. True,
I had no way of knowing we’d be caught, but I’ve lived my whole life in the public eye. I know better than most that every mistake you make comes back to haunt you. I should have known better.”
His expression softened a little, as if her words were getting through to him. He ducked his head slightly, giving his expression a rueful puppy-dog quality. “True, you may have more experience with the press, but I have more experience with sex. I should have put a stop to things. I should have known they were getting out of hand. I just…”
He let his words trail off with a wry twist of a smile.
The implication hung there in the air between them. He hadn’t stopped for the same reason she hadn’t thought about the press. Their passion had gotten out of hand. Not because they were careless, but because this thing between them was more powerful than either of them expected.
In that instant, all of her doubts and self-recriminations vanished. She was back beside the barn, watching his expression as he looked at her near-naked body for the first time. Once again, she was flooded with that feeling of power, that sense that this passion between them was right. As if it was what she was born to do. As if her body had been created solely for the purpose of enticing him, just as his was made purely to bring her pleasure.
It was a heady feeling, this power she had over him, this passion that bloomed between them. It was stronger than anything she’d ever faced before. It was such a shame that she’d never get to experience it again.
He was a dangerous man. He’d already tempted her beyond anything she’d thought possible. She’d have to be even more careful around him.
He opened his mouth but she cut him off with a wave of her chopsticks. She didn’t think she could stand any more confessions from him. “Let’s just say we’re both to blame and leave it at that.”
He nodded, apparently willing to let that discussion go. “The question is, how do we fix it?”
“I don’t know that we can.”
“Trust me,” he grinned. “I can fix this. I can fix anything.”
He popped a bit of pork into his mouth. As he chewed, his smile held that touch of arrogance she found so exasperating. And yet somehow endearing, too. Gazing into his eyes, something caught inside her. She simultaneously wanted to cuddle against his chest and strip off her clothes. The urge to rest her head on his chest scared her more.
Winning It All Page 12
