by Donna Hill
“Of course.” She took her purse from the passenger seat, extracted the key from the ignition and accepted his hand.
When she was drawn to her feet, mere inches separated them. Her gaze landed on his collarbone and she realized how tall he actually was and how his lean frame belied the power beneath.
Avery swallowed and stepped around him. Her heart banged mercilessly as she walked to her front door with Rafe a half step behind.
She turned. “Thanks so much for inviting me tonight. I had a great time.”
His eyes picked up the light from the moon and seemed to sparkle. He grinned, leaned down and placed a featherlight kiss on her forehead. “Good night. Rest well. I hope you don’t mind if I call on you again.”
“You’re going to fly all the way from Louisiana to DC just to see me?”
“My family has a place in Arlington, Virginia. When I have good reason, I stay there.” He leveled his gaze on her. “Do I have good reason?”
“You might,” she managed to say.
That grin again.
Rafe lifted his chin toward the door. “Want to make sure you get in safely.”
Avery ran her keys through her fingers, turned and somehow managed to get the key in the lock. She opened the door and flipped on the light in the foyer. She faced him. “See? Safe and sound. Thanks...again.”
“My pleasure, cher.” He took a step back, turned and strode to his car.
Avery waited a beat before closing the door. She stood frozen in place while she listened to the rev of his engine. She took a quick peek between the slats of the blinds. Only her car remained.
* * *
Rafe pulled into his driveway, killed the engine and slid out. When he walked into the house he sniffed the air and smiled.
Alice had fixed her should-be-world-famous peach cobbler. The sweet syrupy aroma sprinkled with cinnamon still hung in the air. His mouth watered but it was a little too late to indulge.
He bypassed the kitchen. What he could use, however, was a shot of bourbon. He crossed into the den, went to the bar and fixed his drink. He took a deep swallow and closed his eyes as the warmth of the rich amber brew slid down his throat and settled in his belly before exploding into a burst of heat that slowly coursed through his veins.
He took his drink and went to the lounge chair and sat. Absently he rotated the glass on the end table as he relived the evening. Whenever he played he allowed the music to transport him, lift him, fill him. Often he would forget he was on a stage and in front of an audience and simply succumb to the notes, become one with them. Tonight was no exception, but he also played for Avery. When his fingers ran up and down the sax, it was her body that he imagined. When he blew soft, high, low into his reed it was her skin that he whispered against. For him, the making of music was akin to making love. It was an art, one to be nurtured, explored, experienced and shared. But tonight...
He took another sip of his drink. Tonight was a whole other level. He set his glass down and stood. Avery Richards. If he allowed it she could get under his skin. She might see things that he didn’t want seen. He wasn’t up for that.
He took a long cool shower and turned in for the night. Tomorrow he would head home.
* * *
Avery couldn’t sleep. She kept replaying the moments that she and Rafe stood on the front steps, when he leaned down and kissed her. She touched her forehead. He may as well have branded her. She still felt out of body; unable to control her thoughts or the sudden vibrations that bolted through her without warning.
The printouts that Kerry had given her were spread out on the bed and on her lap. Kerry was right. Rafe Lawson was everything she’d said and then some. More than being the heir to the Lawson fortune and all the tropes that came with it, he was his own man. There were articles that chronicled his world travels, his education, the women he’d dated, his celebrated music, his run-in with the law, his philanthropy, and the rumors of the rift between him and his powerful father. In one interview he said that he had no intention of following in the path of his father. Politics, he’d said, were for those that craved power and it had the potential to change anyone, even those with the best of intentions, and he had no intention of changing.
What the articles couldn’t capture was his persona, the raw magnetism that ensnared you, the eyes that held you, the rugged voice with a hint of southern flavor that caressed you, or the way his touch set off shock waves in your body.
Avery shook her head, sighed and gathered up the papers, then stuck them in her nightstand. She got up and went to the shower with the hope of slowing her racing thoughts.
No sooner was she out of the shower when her cell phone chirped. She crossed the room to her nightstand and snatched up the shimmying phone. She smiled and shook her head.
“Do you know it’s late?”
“So what. I couldn’t wait until tomorrow. And unless you’re in the middle of a ‘sleepover...’”
Avery feigned a huff. “Fiiine,” she conceded and flopped down on her bed. She crossed her ankles. “Well, after you abandoned me...” She went on to give Kerry a blow-by-blow, up to and including the kiss on the forehead.
“What! You let him leave?”
“What was I supposed to do, force him to stay?”
“Yes!”
Avery burst out laughing. “Girl, you are crazy.”
“Say what you want but if it hadda been me... I’m just saying.”
“Look, I’m tired. I have to be in the office in the morning.”
“Fine. Did he at least promise to call?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a start. Home or work?”
Avery paused a beat. She’d never given him her cell. The only way to reach her was at the office. “Cell,” she said, detesting that she lied to her best friend, but hating more that she would have to admit that he actually never asked for her number.
“Well, get some rest. It’s house-cleaning day for me tomorrow. So when I take a break I’ll give you a call.”
“Sounds good. Chat then.”
“Night.”
“Night.”
Avery absently placed the phone on the nightstand. Rafe said he would call. Clearly it was a line—one that he probably used on a regular basis.
She slid between the sheets and switched off the bedside light. No reason to feel a tickle of disappointment. She turned on her side. She wasn’t looking for the night out to be any more than what it was. She got what she expected and nothing more.
Rafe Lawson. He was her last thought before she was finally able to drift off to sleep.
* * *
Avery was running late and in an irritable mood on top of that. It had taken her much too long to finally fall asleep and then she’d slept through her alarm. She couldn’t find a pair of stockings, so she’d had to change out of her dress into slacks and a jacket. To top that off it was raining buckets.
When it rained in DC, drivers acted as if they’d never been behind the wheel of a car. Traffic inched along the road like beginning skaters at the ice rink. By the time she arrived at her office she was one knot of annoyance and the last person she wanted to deal with was Mike.
“Rough night?” he greeted her as he stepped onto the elevator with her.
She swiveled her head in his direction a la horror movie and pinned him in place with a hard stare.
“Not today, Mike. I’m not in the mood.”
“Sorry to hear that.” He slid his hands into his pockets. “Can I get you some coffee? Always makes me feel better.”
She glanced at him and was surprised to find what looked like sincerity in his eyes. Her expression softened. “Thanks. That might help.” She offered a tired smile.
The doors slid open.
“Light and sweet?”
They parted; he headed to the staff lounge and she to her office.
The message light on her desk phone flashed. She groaned. It was barely nine.
She shrugged out of her jacket, slipped it onto the back of her chair and stabbed the flashing light. Her father’s distinct raspy voice filled the room and ruffled her stomach.
“I would have expected you to be at your desk. I’m free for lunch and I’d like you to join me at the Capitol. I’ll order for us both. One o’clock. See you then.”
Avery shut her eyes and sucked in a long breath. No preamble pleasantries when it came to Horace Richards. Never or rarely a “How are you,” just blunt, to the point, as if anything beyond that was a waste of his time. It would never occur to her father that his only daughter might have plans of her own. Even if she did, it wouldn’t matter to him. He would expect that she would cancel her plans.
The light tap on the door turned her away from her smoldering thoughts. Mike stuck his head in.
“Coffee is served.”
As much as she didn’t want to, she smiled. “Thanks.”
He walked in and set the cup on her desk.
Avery wrapped her fingers around the paper cup and brought it to her lips. She took a short sip and hummed in appreciation.
“Are you sure everything is okay?”
She glanced up at him. “Yes, I’m fine. Really. And thanks for the coffee.” She lifted the cup.
Mike nodded, turned and walked out.
Avery leaned her head back against the headrest of her high-back chair. She was much more comfortable with Mike “the adversary,” the pain in the ass, not Mike the actual nice guy.
Her office phone rang.
“Agent Richards.”
“Good morning, cher.”
Her pulse jumped. “Rafe...good morning.”
“I decided to stay in town one more night.”
“Oh...”
“If you’re free I’d like to take you to dinner.”
“Dinner... All right.”
“Eight?”
“Eight sounds fine.”
“Here’s my number...in case you ever need me.”
Her hand shook as she tapped the numbers into her cell phone contact list.
“Should I call when I’m on my way?”
Avery grinned. “No need. I’ll be ready, but that’s my number—just in case.”
“I’ll commit it to memory. Enjoy your day, now,” he said in that down easy way of his.
“You, too.”
Avery hung up the phone and felt as if she could levitate out of her chair. That crazy, giddy sensation ran through her limbs and she had the overwhelming urge to do the happy dance, and then she noticed the flashing message light. She pressed the red light and her mood shifted from great to ecstatic. Her father had to cancel lunch. Avery grinned in delighted relief. Her day was getting better by the minute.
* * *
Avery had brought Kerry up to speed on everything from Mike’s coffee run to her father’s cancellation and of course, Rafe’s offer of dinner.
“You have got to get something to wear,” Kerry insisted as they stepped outside of the café following their “emergency girl lunch.”
The midafternoon was springtime warm, perhaps more so than for this time in May. The DC streets teemed with lunch-goers and strollers taking in the unseasonably warm weather. They walked around a family that stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to take pictures.
“Actually, I agree with you, but I don’t have time.”
Kerry hooked her arm through Avery’s. “We’ll make time. I know this great boutique and you’ll find something to love. Promise. Let’s go.”
* * *
Less than an hour later Avery was back in her office with a deep teal–colored dress in some kind of cotton blend that clung to her body in all the right places. The sleeveless dress had a loose dropping neckline that only hinted at the treasures below. The dress stopped just above the knee and Kerry insisted on a gloss for her legs in lieu of stockings. And what was a brand-new dress that oozed sex and sophistication without the perfect accessories? She purchased teardrop earrings and a thin silver chain for her neck. Avery took one last look at the dress, zipped up the garment bag and hung it up on the coatrack, then tucked her shopping bag of goodies in her desk drawer.
She had a detail assignment that shouldn’t take more than two hours. She was to accompany the Speaker of the House to a news conference in the rotunda. For the last six months her assignments had been stateside. She was getting itchy for something more challenging. Normally she was slated for international detail.
When she’d entered the Secret Service most of her assignments had been abroad since she spoke fluent French, Italian, Spanish and had a healthy command of Mandarin. All the language courses she took in high school and through college paid off. But recently she didn’t have much chance to use them and she didn’t want to get rusty. She made a mental note to speak to her supervisor about considering her for the next out-of-country assignment. Although she’d been assigned to the VP, his schedule for the next month was all within the States.
She checked her weapon in her shoulder holster and the reserve strapped to her ankle, then headed out to the Speaker’s office to provide his escort to the conference. Although it was beyond rare that any type of threat or attack transpired in the Capitol rotunda, every precaution was always taken. At least being on guard, listening to speeches and the babble of reporter questions would keep her mind off the night ahead.
Chapter 6
It had been a while since Rafe had made dinner reservations in DC, but it was clear by the deference shown to him when he called Le Galleria that the Lawson name carried plenty of weight in the “chocolate city.”
Initially he’d been told that the restaurant was booked. He’d started to simply say thanks and hang up, but then he was asked to leave his name in the event of a cancellation. All he said was Lawson and the conversation immediately shifted.
“Senator Lawson! Why didn’t you say so? I’m so sorry. Of course we can find—”
“Thank you, but this is not the senator. This is his son Rafe Lawson. I’m only in town for the evening.”
“Of course, of course. Excellent, sir.”
Rafe could almost see the harried maître d’ scrambling to find the best table.
“We actually have the chef’s table available at 8:30. I know you will be pleased.”
“I’m sure. Thank you.”
“When you arrive please ask for me, Paul Benoit. I’ll take care of you and your guest personally.”
“I’ll do that.” He disconnected the call and shook his head, bemused. He’d never been one to cash in on the family name. If anything he made a point of distancing himself. But...sometimes...
Absently, he tossed the phone onto the bed, stripped out of his clothes and changed into sweats. A quick workout in the gym was what he needed.
He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, then walked to the back of the house to one of the spare rooms that he’d converted into a personal gym, complete with state-of-the-art equipment.
He started with the treadmill that boasted a video screen programmed to broadcast anything from running in place to navigating a major city marathon. He set the speed and incline to a challenging level, then selected running through the woods. After thirty minutes he switched off to some weight training.
Physical stimulation always helped to clear his head and burn off the excess noise. Lately, he’d been more keyed up than usual. Playing music didn’t really help, riding his motorcycle at breakneck speeds wasn’t the answer, even his religious workouts couldn’t seem to stem the tide of restlessness that continued to rush to the surface lately.
He stood beneath the hot, pounding water of the shower, rolled his neck and shoulders. Usually this unwanted feeling was short-lived. He’d force it out of his system. But recently—the past couple of months at least—he’d been in this land of limbo, simply going through the motions. It wasn’t something he could put words to or that he talked about, even to Quinten or his brother Justin. He’d get through it, he always did.
Rafe turned off the shower and stepped out. A night with a woman who definitely intrigued him might fill in the blanks—at least for a while.
* * *
Avery by nature was not a pacer, but she found herself pacing back and forth across her bedroom floor. Rather than having just enough time to get showered and dressed, she had too much time and now had to tick off the minutes until Rafe arrived.
He’d sent a text earlier to let her know that the reservations were for 8:30 and he would be there to pick her up about 7:45. It was only 7:30 and the fifteen minutes felt like an eternity.
She checked her purse to ensure that she had her keys and wallet. Checked her riot of curls pulled up and away from her face, her makeup, her teeth, turned left, right and center in front of the mirror until there was nothing left to do. Just when she knew she would self-combust from anticipation the doorbell rang.
Her heart hammered. She drew in a breath, lifted her chin and walked out of her bedroom to the door. She paused for a moment then turned the knob.
He stood facing her when she pulled the door open and when he slowly caressed her with that easy smile that started at the right corner of his mouth, and pinned her in place with the hint of something alluring in his eyes, it took all she had not to gasp.
“Hi,” she managed to say.
“Evening.” His gaze took her in from top to bottom in a heated sweep. The darkness in his eyes lit in admiration. “Lovely.”
Her cheeks heated. “Thank you. Come in. Please.” She stepped aside to let him pass and her eyes momentarily fluttered closed when she caught a hint of his scent.
Avery shut the door. “Can I get you anything before we leave?” she asked in an attempt to wrestle her thoughts under control.
