In Bed With the Opposition

by Stephanie Draven

  “I’ll talk to the senator,” she promised. “If it’s all right with him, then it’s all right with me.”

  Chapter Nine

  As the driver parked under the golden arches, Grace groaned. Why couldn’t her boss wait for the New Year’s Eve party tonight where there would be something healthier on the menu? “Can’t we at least go through the drive-through, sir?”

  “I can stand in line at a fast food joint like everyone else,” Senator Halloway pronounced. “I’m an everyday guy.”

  “Sir, you’re a US senator. You’re not an everyday guy.”

  There was no arguing with him. Especially not when she recognized reporters waiting in line. The senator recognized them, too. “Good to see you folks,” he said with a huge smile and meaty handshake for members of the press corps.

  He really hammed it up, and Grace shook her head. He’d negotiated treaties to end genocide, launched programs to lift kids out of poverty, and written an award-winning book on economics, but given the chance, he still couldn’t resist glad-handing in a McDonald’s.

  “Which number is the Whopper?” her boss asked.

  “It’s Big Macs here, sir.”

  Senator Halloway squinted. “Which number is that? I don’t have my glasses.”

  “The Big Mac meal is number one,” Grace said.

  “Since when?”

  Grace shook her head. “Since always?”

  Her boss took leathery hands and rubbed them on his cheeks in consternation. “Back in my day, we didn’t have these combo meals.”

  Grace rolled her eyes. “I know, sir. Back in your day you had to steer your horse-drawn carriage through the drive-through if you wanted two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, and onions on a sesame seed bun.”

  The senator laughed his big laugh and Grace steeled her courage. She’d waited until the last possible moment to tell him about Ethan and now was probably the right time. She was fairly certain he wouldn’t scream at her in the middle of a burger joint in front of reporters.

  Hopefully.

  “Senator, I need to tell you something a little personal.”

  “I’m all ears,” he said, but then they moved ahead in line and the checkout girl prompted him for his order.

  Grace smiled. “He wants the number one combo.”

  Grace had no idea why the girl replied to her in Spanish. Maybe it was because she took in Grace’s Mexican-American complexion and dark hair. Or maybe the political gods were aligned against them. The only thing she knew was how bad it was going to be, even before the senator opened his mouth.

  “This is the United States of America,” Kip Halloway announced. “If you want to work here, the least you can do is speak English.”

  “I do speak English,” the girl replied, with only a trace of an accent.

  “Then why don’t you respect your elders and use it!”

  Grace winced at the senator’s rant. Didn’t he remember that there were reporters here? Didn’t he remember that there were voters here? No matter what anybody thought about making English the official language, everyone in the place looked startled and appalled that he was yelling at a poor cashier. But short of kicking him, there was no way Grace could stop her boss.

  Yanking his money back, the senator snapped, “Grace, let’s go.”

  “Sir—” Grace tried to stop him.

  “I don’t know why you wanted to eat here anyway. There’ll be plenty of food at the party.”

  Grace chased after him. For every step he made her run through the snow in her high-heeled boots, she wondered if he was really and truly losing it! He wasn’t really the xenophobic jackass he’d just made himself out to be, but she found herself strangely unsympathetic. “Surly Senator Hurls Abuse at Minimum-Wage Latina Worker. That’s what the headline is going to read tomorrow, you know.”

  Her boss grumbled, then pointedly changed the subject. “So what did you want to tell me? Something personal, you said.”

  What a time for him to have a crystal-clear memory. The last thing Grace wanted was to tell him about Ethan when he was in a foul mood, but now she was trapped. And at the moment she was so annoyed she wasn’t sure she cared what the senator thought about it. She realized, to her surprise, that she wasn’t really asking permission, either. “I’m dating Ethan Castle.”

  She waited for the explosion, but it never came.

  Instead, the old man’s eyes brightened with delight. “Gracie Girl, you sly fox.”

  Sly was not an adjective that had ever been attributed to her before, so Grace had to wonder if her boss was having yet another Senior Moment. “You remember that Ethan is managing Professor Kim’s campaign, right?”

  He barked, “I’m not senile! I underestimated you, Grace. It’s brilliant. Who knows what he’ll let slip to you about the campaign?”

  Grace wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or mortally wounded by the implication that she was that mercenary. “We probably won’t even talk about the campaign.”

  He slapped his knee in obvious delight. “He won’t be able to help it. And something always slips, and when it does, we can use it and grind Dr. Dark Ages into the dust.”

  The senator had always dismissed Dr. Dark Ages as a kook, but now that Ethan was on the campaign, everyone took him more seriously. Grace swallowed with some difficulty. “What if I’m the one who lets something slip?”

  He waved it off. “Never. You’re too smart for him. Besides, you’re out of the loop.”

  That much was true. Her daily job was on the Hill, not in the campaign office, which meant that she didn’t know anything important. That gave her some small comfort. “Blain might not share your rosy assessment.”

  “Blain will see the advantage. I always thought you were bright, Grace, even when you were a little girl. I just didn’t think you had the killer instinct, but maybe you do have what it takes.”

  Grace realized that she was gawking like a fish, and tried to rearrange her face into a more dignified expression. “So, you’re okay with my dating Ethan?”

  “Of course!”

  In some demented way, she was touched by the senator’s faith in her. It had apparently never crossed his mind to question her loyalty or worry that Ethan Castle might be using her. And if the senator approved of her dating Ethan, she didn’t want to say anything to change his mind.

  …

  New Year’s Eve was definitely a sexy holiday. Normally Grace wore a black velvet dress with drop pearls like the senator’s wife used to wear when she was alive. But tonight she didn’t want to wear pearls or black or navy. She didn’t even want to go respectably wild with a little gray pinstripe. For this party—and this guy—nothing less than a strapless matte satin dress in red would do.

  Fobbing the senator off on an intern, Grace checked her coat, swiped a few peppermint candies in the lobby, and then went to find her New Year’s Eve date. Ethan was by the bar surrounded by a gaggle of girls who could scarcely disguise their open adoration.

  To Grace’s consternation, Ethan looked every bit the television star that he was, and seemed to welcome the flirting and fawning. She nabbed some wine off a passing tray to calm her nerves and told herself not to be jealous. These girls couldn’t help themselves. Ethan was a rising star. He was as close to a celebrity as you could be in politics. Any of those girls would want him, and from the expressions on their faces, they all did. One girl even kept doing the flirtatious hair flip. Grace knew that one—that was the blogger, PolitiGal.

  But while Grace dithered like a teenager at prom, Ethan broke away and headed her way. “Ms. Santiago,” he said, sweeping her a mock bow.

  Taking a sip from her wineglass, Grace tried to feign sophisticated indifference. “Are you done flirting with girls for the night?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I just got started. Are you done babysitting Senator Halloway?”

  She glanced over her shoulder and saw that her boss was surrounded by friends and colleagues. Then she re
minded herself that she wasn’t on duty tonight. “Yep. I’m all yours.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  Oh, Holy Mary, Mother of God, she wanted to be his. Badly. Swallowing nervously, she said, “So, here we are.”

  Ethan took her hand into his, which was warm and strong. “Our first public and official date. Shall we dance?”

  Grace felt self-conscious under the bitchy gaze of PolitiGal, but Ethan whirled her into his arms and onto the dance floor.

  Laughing, she said, “I thought most men hated to dance.”

  “Because most men suck at it,” Ethan replied, guiding her with a hand on her shoulder. His movements were smooth, loose, and modern. At ease with the funky beat, Ethan clasped Grace against him, catching her by the hips in a slightly intimate grind that made her forget there was anyone else on the dance floor.

  Eventually the music changed and it was all close dancing. Here, Ethan was even lighter on his feet. God, was this for real? It was hard to believe that she was being twirled and guided on a dance floor by the sexiest guy in the room. Maybe the sexiest guy on the planet. “Seriously, Fred Astaire? You know ballroom dancing?”

  Ethan led her easily through the steps, his hand at the small of her back, resting there possessively. “I have six older siblings and I’ve been a groomsman at all their weddings. Learning to dance was a matter of survival.”

  “Did you forget a sibling? I thought you said you were the youngest of eight,” Grace replied, gliding across the floor in a way that made her dress sweep elegantly—which thrilled her.

  “I don’t want to talk about me,” Ethan said, holding her close. “I want to talk about you…and how much I’ve been looking forward to tonight.”

  Her heart thumped in her chest and she hid her delight by pressing her cheek to his jacket. Her head fit perfectly against his shoulder. This was like a fairy tale…which probably meant something was about to go horribly wrong.

  After they were done dancing, she was still nervous, so she drank another glass of wine. Which might have been her mistake in terms of playing it cool.

  She and Ethan ended up making sampler plates of the hors d’oeuvres and battling it out to see which of them had the most politically incorrect appetizer. “This delicious caviar is from overfished waters. Take that, Little Miss Environmental expert. I win.”

  Grace scrunched her nose to avoid being fed salty fish eggs on a cucumber. “No way, I win. The foie gras is from force-fed ducks!”

  “Hippie.” Ethan snapped the foie gras cracker from her fingers and gulped it down.

  Grace giggled.

  Oops.

  She was a grown woman, and grown women didn’t giggle. Unless they’d had too much wine. But truthfully, she felt drunk on being with him. They left the hotel atrium together for a quiet corridor with thick Oriental carpets, and then, at last, for a heady moment, they were alone. Ethan’s eyes swept over her and he made an appreciative growl. “You look amazing in that dress.”

  She did, didn’t she? It bared her shoulders and neck and made her feel a little vampy. Or maybe it was because she was outrageously drunk. Or maybe it was just him making her feel that way.

  Ethan let out a long sigh. “Unfortunately, your dress gives me some serious regrets.”

  Grace leaned back against the wall, bracing herself for bad news. “Like what?”

  He brushed her bare shoulder, leaning in closer. “Like the fact that when we first hooked up we were always in such a hurry that I’ve never seen you completely naked.”

  That comment, the wine, the dazzling chandelier light overhead, and his scent all made her dizzy. “Well then, we certainly have something to look forward to in the New Year.”

  …

  What was it about this woman? They were in a hotel with more than two hundred rooms, but Ethan felt like he would burst into spontaneous flames if he didn’t touch her right now. Which meant that the abandoned coat-check room would have to do.

  Pressing Grace back against someone’s mink shawl, he forced her to whimper into his kiss. Surely she knew what he wanted, and if the look in her eye was any indication, she wanted it, too. Her skin was on fire, flushed, her eyes wide with desire.

  But she also seemed nervous as a cat. “Ethan, wait…no, what if someone needs their coat?”

  “Event doesn’t end till one,” Ethan murmured, banging his head on the metal coat bar as he kissed her neck. The way the sensual red of her dress complemented her bronzed skin was making him crazy. “I want you to be mine tonight, Grace. Mine.”

  Grace fell against him, rattling all the hangers. “Ethan, no!”

  Ethan froze. “No?”

  She gave him a heated glare, halfway between lust and anger. “Oh God, it’s just…why do you always want to do this in public?”

  “We’re not in public. Not exactly. Besides, it’s a rush.” The danger that someone could discover them was part of what made it so hot; he was sure that she felt it, too. “And because you like it. You like it a lot.”

  She went kittenish, her eyes dropping. “Ethan…”

  Whatever she was going to say, he stopped her with a kiss. She smelled like peppermint and tasted like it, too. She threw back her head, and he kissed the base of her throat where her heartbeat throbbed in time with his own. Holding her by the nape of the neck with one hand, he cupped her breast with the other. She moaned when he touched her, a deeply intimate sound that vibrated through his whole body. Then she arched toward him for more, pressing her hips forward in obvious need, and he reacted in kind.

  He slid a hand underneath her dress and came into contact with the lace band of a thigh-high stocking. It made him so hard it hurt. “I want you,” he said, sliding his hand up into her panties, finding her soaking wet underneath. He fingered her, slipping his thumb back and forth in the slickness of her arousal. “Right now.”

  From elsewhere in the hotel, he could hear the crowd shouting out the New Year’s Eve countdown, and he wanted to be inside her before they finished. He unzipped, swiftly reaching for a condom and tearing the wrapper open with his teeth.

  The sound startled her; maybe it broke her concentration because her fingernails suddenly dug into his shoulders through his tuxedo and the anxiety in her expression didn’t look like excitement anymore.

  In fact, she’d gone pale.

  “What’s wrong, Grace?”

  “My God, are you crazy? We can’t do this here. And you said…you said—you said that we’d take it slow.”

  Jesus. He’d waited long enough, hadn’t he? He’d taken a job just to be near her. She had to know his intentions were honorable. Did he dare tell her how long it’d been since he’d last had sex? He’d been living like a monk since the day he ran into her at the Crab Fest months ago. He was a patient guy, but even he had his limits.

  As the countdown neared its end, Ethan shook himself free of those unworthy thoughts. Sure, he could convince her to have sex with him. He could persuade her to throw caution to the wind. He’d done it before. But this was the first time they’d been together since Old Man Halloway gave her the permission slip that meant so much to her. He didn’t want to repeat his mistakes, taking things too fast, getting all hot and heavy only to have her disappear.

  So in spite of the tantalizing way her dress was bunched up between them and the amazing feel of her silky thigh, he was going to have to stop.

  …

  Grace panted like a stunned animal that had just been sprung free of a trap. Holy Mary, Mother of God. What was wrong with her? She thought she’d learned her lesson about having sex in public, but once Ethan started kissing her, she just couldn’t seem to stop. If she hadn’t been so terrified, she’d have let him take her while tangled up in other people’s coats!

  And what kind of girl did that make her? Stupid, slutty, or both? Thank God for the panic attack that forced her to come to her senses. When he’d asked her what was wrong, she’d been close to telling him about Dale Delmont and the pictures and ev
erything. Given the sharp anxiety that rang out like a siren in her head, she wanted to explain.

  But then she remembered exactly who Ethan was and who he worked for…and that as much as she wanted to trust him with everything, she couldn’t. It was one thing to date him and make herself vulnerable; it was another to put the fate of the campaign at the mercy of Ethan Castle’s good will.

  It must have been obvious that she was still freaking out, because Ethan asked, “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. No. I—I just don’t want you to be…mad.”

  “I’m mad with lust, that’s all,” he said, but there was a dark edge in his voice and lines of tension around his eyes.

  “So you’re not angry? You’re just…”

  “It’s nothing a cold shower won’t solve.”

  Grace’s thoughts were a jumble. She hated disappointing people she cared about. More than anything, she didn’t want him to leave. And it was so hard to admit that out loud, to open herself up to him that way, but she was determined to try. “I’m just afraid you’re going to give up on me.”

  “You think I’d give up on a woman because she makes me wait?” He could have laughed it off, but he didn’t. He tilted her chin up so that she had to look him in the eye. “Remember who you’re talking to, Grace. I never give up.”

  She stared at him a good long time, knowing that he meant it. Finally, she managed a shaky smile. “So, you’re saying I’m stuck with you?”

  “That’s right,” Ethan said, straightening her dress, taking her hand and checking both ways to see if anyone was coming before leading her out. “So let’s find a waiter with a tray of champagne so we can toast the New Year.”

  And that’s just what they did, in spite of the fact that Grace was more than a little tipsy already. As they clinked their glasses together, the last of the black and gold balloons overhead rained down on them and the ribbons tangled them together.