His Fantasy

by Sheila Kell

  “Three. A single burst of three.” He pointed to the disturbed spots on the ground near where the senator had lain. Christ, the man had only missed hitting her by inches. He wanted to pray to the gods—any of them—and thank them for allowing the bullets to have missed Madison.

  Thankfully, his assertive, exact answer took the bluster out of the deputy. Good.

  While they finalized their statements, the senator woke and, after the EMTs explained what happened, she insisted on seeing Madison, who then began to notice her messed up appearance. Sure her dark hair was an absolute mess, but it was an attractive mess. In an effort to clean her sweater some, she swiped a hand down the front and made it worse. Not that he wanted her to look bad, but her fretting brought a smile to his face. Until today, he’d always seen her looking perfect, from the top of her head down to her cute toes. The camera always captured an image of her that made him want her with every fiber of his being.

  “She wants to see you, too,” a tall EMT informed Brad.

  Fuck. The last thing he wanted to do was be brought to the senator’s attention. What if she remembered him? They’d never been introduced during that week he filled in for the other agent. He didn’t want to be dragged back to that time in his life. Things had been good with the Secret Service until…. Even now, years later, it remained out of his reach.

  “Come on,” Brad said to Madison, with a hand to the small of her back, turning her in the direction of the ambulance, “let’s go over together.”

  Nodding, she stayed beside him to the road where the ambulance had parked. They approached the vehicle and stopped at the gurney sitting right outside the open doors. He wondered if his discomfort—and not just from the cold clothing—showed on his face.

  “Did you save me?” Senator Walden asked Madison.

  Madison visibly gulped before she answered, “I only pulled you from the car.”

  The woman reached out a trembling hand. “What’s your name?”

  Shaking the woman’s hand, Madison seemed to gather herself and answered firmly, “Madison Maxwell.”

  Studying Madison for a moment, the senator nodded. “The model?”

  With a small smile and a slight cock of her head, Madison nodded. “Yes.”

  “Thank you.” The senator squeezed Madison’s hand and released it.

  “And you,” the woman had focused on Brad, “helped?”

  The intense scrutiny by the senator bothered him. “Not really.”

  “I know you, don’t I? What’s your name?”

  Oh, here the fuck it goes. “Brad Hamilton.”

  After a brief moment, her eyes lit up with surprise. “Secret Service.”

  “A long time ago,” he said, hoping that’d be the end of his past. He only prayed she hadn’t heard about his departure from the agency and what had happened to him to facilitate it. He didn’t remember everything that had happened to him, but he had enough memory to make him jaded. In his heart, he knew someone had set him up. He just hadn’t been able to prove it without his full memory.

  The senator nodded, and he refocused on the conversation around him. “I want to thank you for this. There’s a dinner I’m hosting in a few days. I’d like you to be my guests.”

  Not only no, but fuck no. He couldn’t go to the Lion’s Den of DC and run into his old colleagues who’d surely be guarding some of her esteemed guests. Not with that cloud over his head. Hell, they might not even allow him entrance. Wouldn’t that be fucking grand? As for going to the dinner, his resounding answer was still no fucking way.

  Madison’s eyes brightened. “Yes, thank you,” she said, as if answering for the both of them. Well fuck.

  “Good. I’ll have someone send you the information.”

  Utterly dumbfounded—an expression he’d not prefer to wear—Brad stood and stared at the two women who’d just decided for him. Had his not speaking first and Madison accepting had him somehow agreeing to the dinner? Hell, he’d just not go. They couldn’t come after him for that. Madison would be fine on her own in the den of vipers. Shit. She wouldn’t be safe at all with the sleazy politicians—his father excluded—and others in the political arena who attended such events and preyed on young women. Young hot women. Like Madison. She’d be great arm-candy for one of the men she needed to avoid. Yet, she was so much more than that, and his little time with her had proven it.

  Christ, he’d have to go to protect her. That’d mean facing a past he’d put far behind him. All he had to say was that she’d best appreciate his monumental effort.

  BY THE TIME everyone had asked their questions, and Deputy Waters—who she’d wanted to reach out and slap—had stopped trying to see through her damp, dirty sweater, Madison was freezing enough her teeth chattered. Although it’d been near seventy earlier in the day, the temperature had dropped, and it was closer to fifty, if not lower. Not only was she wet, but she wasn’t wearing a jacket. She hadn’t needed it earlier so had just tossed it in the car. More than likely she could’ve retrieved it before she spoke with law enforcement, but she hadn’t wanted anything to prolong the event. Her nerves had been frazzled enough dealing with the aftermath of the incident. She’d had enough of this scene.

  Someone frickin’ shot at me. Someone killed the driver. Those thoughts slid into her body and stole her breath. Why did her body suddenly feel so weak? Her legs shook, as did her body, and dread slipped down her spine. It was over. Panic nearly set in at her body trying to shut down on her. She fought it, and with a deep breath, held herself steady.

  Someone frickin’ shot at me, she thought again. She couldn’t get that out of her head. Sure they were probably shooting at the senator, had shot the driver, but she’d been there in the thick of it, and they could’ve hit her. Or Brad, who’d charged in like an avenging angel set on covering her. His method of getting her to the ground could’ve been gentler, but he’d run headlong into danger to protect her. She absently rubbed her behind that had taken the brunt of the impact of their bodies when he’d tackled her to the ground.

  Then he’d lain on top of her, covering her, ensuring her safety. Having his warm body—albeit wet—against her, so snug, set her body spinning in a pool of lust that had been totally inappropriate for the situation. She’d felt the heat creep up her neck at her embarrassment.

  She stumbled, and a hand grabbed her arm to steady her. Even though she knew she was safely ensconced in a law enforcement barrier, she started at the touch, her heart hammering. Turning, her gaze collided with Brad’s concerned one.

  “Are you okay?” he asked in a calm, caring voice that reminded her of when they’d first made love. He’d fooled her, and she wasn’t going to let him fool her again, despite how brave he’d been, or the fact that he’d probably saved her life.

  In an attempt to yank her arm back, she lost her footing again and found herself pulled up tight to his chest. His rock-hard chest that she’d pressed kisses all over that one night. “I’m—I’m fine,” she finally got out in a throaty voice, one she didn’t mean to use.

  A chuckle escaped him, and she wanted to smack him for it. It was just anger, and not just at the situation, which wasn’t fair to either of them.

  “Oh, Maddie.” The use of her nickname sent an unexpected spark of warmth through her. It sounded so loving coming from his lips.

  Regardless of the comfort she was beginning to feel, she insisted, “You can let me go now.” When he did, she stumbled back before regaining her footing. On shaky legs, she turned back to trek to her car. She wasn’t trying to be ungrateful, but the whole situation was a mess and disturbing. She needed to work through everything—alone. She took two steps and nearly collapsed from the maelstrom of emotions and feelings that swamped her. With a speed she wouldn’t have believed if she hadn’t seen it, Brad was there and caught her in his arms. Fleetingly, her anger with him evaporated.

  “You’re not okay. Let me help you.” He pulled her to his side and wrapped his arm around tight so she could walk on her
own accord, or he could assist her with his strength. “Where are you going?”

  “My car,” she said, confused by his question.

  Brad shook his head. “No, from here.”

  Oh. That made more sense. “The Ivy.”

  “I’ll drive. We can pick up your car tomorrow, or we can have one of my brothers pick it up and drive it into town. Safer to have someone pick it up tonight.”

  Leave her car? With all her samples in it? The thought gave a jolt to her stomach at the possibility of losing anything from her car. She’d just have to find a way to drive herself. She shuddered from the adrenaline dump tormenting her body. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t drive. “Would you drive my car? I have things in there that I need.” While she didn’t need them right away, they represented the new life she was creating for herself. She couldn’t let the items out of her grasp.

  He studied her with an intensity that saw right through to her soul and almost knocked her wet socks off. Oh, she couldn’t wait to get dry. And warm. The idea of getting warm with Brad turned her insides to jelly. No matter how he’d acted before, she’d once seen the good side of him, like she had today, and that man stirred her both emotionally and physically.

  Rubbing her arms to generate some heat in them, she thanked him and repeated her question. “Thank you for protecting me. Thank you for helping me now. If you wouldn’t mind, would you drive my car into Baltimore?”

  As if just noticing she was cold, he turned toward her vehicle. With his free arm, he pulled out his phone, swiped and tapped until he put the phone to his ear.

  “I need a favor. Can you get someone to drive you out to pick up my truck?”

  He relayed their location as best he could since they were out in nowhere land.

  Madison eavesdropped as, in a crisp tone, Brad explained what had occurred to whoever was on the other end of the phone line. It amazed her he could detail the incident without any emotions. She feared she’d break down trying to explain everything, especially about the dead man who she’d never met.

  After a bit more conversation to include where to find his spare key, he ended the call. “Taken care of. AJ and Jake were already headed in this direction and should be here shortly. They’ll pick up my truck and deliver it to The Ivy for me.”

  Maybe it was the waning sun or the adventure of the day, but the thought of lying in bed, in his arms, at The Ivy set her blood afire. The idea of him in her hotel room while they waited for his truck to be delivered conjured up images of their hot night together. Lying naked in each other’s arms like there was no tomorrow. Her body heated just thinking about his large hands on her again. Yet, no matter how much he fanned her flames with only a smile, she couldn’t allow them to move back to bed without more to their relationship. The term “more” confused her as to what she actually wanted, but she knew it had everything to do with Brad Hamilton.

  They reached her car, and he opened the passenger door for her, settled her in, and latched the seat belt.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Nodding, she watched in the side mirror as he jogged to his black truck, reached in and pulled out a small black duffel bag before he jogged back to her car. Opening the back seat door, he tossed the bag inside. Then, he slipped into the driver seat. He turned to her and caught her staring at him. “Are you sure?” he asked.

  No, but she didn’t have a choice unless she waited and had AJ or Jake drive her, which would increase the friction between her and Brad. She’d rather not get into an accident and hurt herself or, heaven forbid, someone else. “Yes. It’s fine.” Did her voice betray that it wasn’t fine? She hoped not because he was being super nice and helping her when she needed it without being the arrogant prick she knew he could be at times. At least at one time.

  He adjusted the seat. With her long legs, he hadn’t had to scoot the seat back far, then adjusted the mirrors before he put his foot on the brake and pushed the Start button. Her key fob, located in her purse on the passenger floorboard, was close enough for him to successfully ignite the engine.

  On the nearly hour drive into town, they didn’t speak as the miles passed them by. Not a word, except when he waved at an SUV and told her it was AJ and Jake.

  The brittle silence in the vehicle attacked her nerves. On the one hand, she worried about Brad in her hotel room and keeping them out of bed, but on the other hand, the events that had unfolded had her almost biting nails. She’d never been in such a situation. While it might be second nature to Brad to run into the spray of bullets and dead men, she didn’t deal well with the concept.

  “So,” she said, breaking the silence, “do you really think someone would’ve killed the senator if we hadn’t been there?” It was the only safe question she could think of. She didn’t want to know if he thought the shooter would kill them like he had the driver. She shuddered for the dead man who’d only been doing his job.

  Brad glanced at her before returning his eyes to the road. She had a feeling he was struggling with what to tell her. The truth or some semblance of it. Finally, he nodded. “Probably.”

  Her shudder deepened. “I know I said thank you once before, but I really mean it. I’ve never been so scared in my life.” The honest words slipped from her mouth, and she didn’t care if it made her appear weak.

  “I’d be worried if you hadn’t been.” His soft voice calmed her jumbled nerves, and they lapsed into companionable silence for the remainder of the trip. She put the thought of someone being murdered as far back in her mind as she could. It didn’t work as well as she’d liked, but with Brad near her, she felt safe.

  By the time they arrived at valet check-in at The Ivy, Madison felt herself again, the weakness had seeped itself from her bones. Getting warm had helped immensely.

  “Suite One is all ready for you, Miss Maxwell,” Margaret—the clerk on duty—said as she handed her the keycard—two of them. Great, the clerk assumed Madison would be sharing her room. Well, she guessed that looked rather obvious since Brad had carried in his duffel bag.

  To remain a much sought-after model, she’d worked hard to maintain her clean image in the public. She’d watched whom she associated with, watched what she did, and watched who was watching her. The paparazzi would have a field day with this tidbit of information, regardless of the truth of the situation.

  Accepting the card keys from Margaret, Madison said, “Thank you,” then turned her suitcase to roll it to the elevator, Brad following at her heels.

  The elevator ride was awkward. With each passing second, the walls seemed to close in on her. Not only were her nerves shot from everything she’d witnessed, but being so close to Brad was all too much. She’d tried so hard since they’d hooked up to avoid him, and had hoped to have been able to prepare herself for when the time came for her to see him again. That obviously hadn’t happened. The terrifying events from earlier had seen to that.

  Madison was a mess of emotions. Her heart warred with her gratitude for the man who’d saved her, which heightened her lusty thoughts, leading to her confusion. And among all of that, a bubble of anger remained unsettled beneath the surface.

  She’d have to admit he could do more to her without a word than any other man she’d known. Although, not all of it was good.

  Arriving at her room, she slipped the card key in the slot and opened the door, walking in.

  She rolled her suitcase to the bedroom and called over her shoulder, “I’ll change in here. You can change in the bathroom.” Although she wished she’d been alone so she could take a hot shower and warm her bones.

  Once changed, she walked barefoot back into the living room where Brad lit the gas fireplace. The heat slowly reached her, bringing warmth to her weary bones. He’d changed into another pair of jeans and a red, long-sleeved T-shirt that molded to his exquisite frame. She caught her breath and chastised herself for her unruly thoughts about the gorgeousness of the man before her. Remember what the man said to you.

  “Thank you for
helping me earlier,” she said again, unsure what else to say. Someone had to break the silence.

  “Listen, Maddie”—he took a step toward her and stopped—“I’m sorry.”

  Her stomach fluttered, and she gulped at his words. “For what?” Why oh why did she ask that question? She didn’t want to rehash anything that had happened between them. They’d had a little too much to drink, had sex, he’d been crude, and she’d left. End of story.

  “I was only joking with what I said. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  She jolted. It was as if he’d read her mind. That was very unsettling. He seemed to know what she needed to hear.

  I finally banged a supermodel. I can check that off my bucket list, were his exact words.

  Getting to know Brad at the wedding reception, she’d foreseen that he could potentially be special. However, with his words, she’d seen that idea tossed aside. He’d slept with her not because she was Madison, Rylee’s sister, but because she was a model and he’d wanted to “bang” one. She’d been such a fool, and bringing up his words made her almost forget how tender he’d been when they made love or during this afternoon’s incident. Nothing like the first Brad she’d met when they’d been stuck in close quarters, each angry at the situation and not being able to help Rylee.

  Her heart beat a staccato rhythm in her chest that pounded in her ears as she absorbed his apology.

  While stepping closer to her, he continued. “I didn’t sleep with you because you’re a supermodel. I slept with you because I’m drawn to you, and we had incredible chemistry.”

  Her breath hitched at the thought of how drawn they’d been to each other—that time. She’d never slept with a man while under the influence of alcohol. Now she knew why that wasn’t a good idea. You never knew the man behind the sexual appeal. She stepped back at his closeness. “Okay. So, you didn’t mean it.” Something inside her broke, and she felt the belief down to her soul. How could she ever have doubted him?