The President's Daughter

by Annette Broadrick

  He didn’t say anything in reply, which was just as well, she thought. She didn’t know why she was teasing him. Actually she admired his attitude toward her and toward his work. But she couldn’t seem to keep from nipping at him like a playful puppy attacking its shadow. Only in this case her shadow could actually nip back. Hard.

  Nick stepped around her when they reached the top of the stairs and unlocked the first door they reached. After he flipped on the light, he motioned for her to step inside, following immediately behind her. She heard the lock slide into place and the chain rattle as it engaged.

  No doubt she should feel much safer, but looking around the room didn’t reassure her. For one thing it was a very small room, which explained the one bed. Although the carpet and drapes were worn and faded, everything looked clean enough. As for the bed, it really was large enough for two to rest comfortably. Perhaps it was her emotional safety she felt was in jeopardy in such close quarters.

  Just to the right of the front door was an alcove with a dressing table and sink. An open door past that revealed a full-size tub and commode. She peered inside. “Plenty of towels,” she offered brightly.

  He muttered something that sounded like “That’s just dandy.” When she turned and saw the expression on his face, she decided not to ask him to repeat it. Now that she saw him in the light, she could see how exhausted he was. He’d been driving for hours without a break.

  “Go ahead and shower and get ready for bed, okay?” he said, setting his bag on the long table provided.

  She turned to him and impulsively took his hand. “I’m really not being argumentative, Nick. Please hear me out. I must have slept for hours on the road and now I’m wide awake. Why don’t you go ahead and shower? Once you’re in bed, I may take a leisurely soak. I promise not to disturb you.”

  “Fine,” he said gruffly. He opened his bag and pulled out some clothes, then went into the bathroom and firmly closed the door. She heard the shower go on.

  She sighed, and sank onto the bed. She rubbed her hand over the surface, pressing slightly. It gave, but wasn’t too soft, which was good news. She opened up her bag and looked for her thermal pajamas before remembering they were in her backpack.

  Only they weren’t. She dumped everything out on the bed. They were not there. She’d worn them last night. Then she’d hurriedly dressed in the bathroom of the cabin this morning while that man, Sam, was there. She could have sworn that she had packed everything, ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

  But the pajamas weren’t there. She must have hung them on the back of the bathroom door and overlooked them.

  Well, that was great news. Not. They were her warmest pajamas. For that matter, they were her only pajamas. So now what? She upended her bag and sorted through her things. She’d brought extra sweaters, extra ski pants, an extra parka, plenty of under wear, but somehow she’d managed to go off without anything else to sleep in.

  She wanted to laugh, but she was afraid she’d become hysterical. Here she was in a motel room with Nick Logan, sharing a bed. In her fantasies, perhaps, she would have pictured herself in a clinging, see-through night gown, hoping to stir him into a passionate response to her. However, if she actually owned something like that, she would certainly freeze to death wearing it here.

  She heard the water being turned off in the other room. Well, she had to do something. She looked down at the clothes she’d worn all day. No way could she wear them to bed. Maybe a sweater, maybe a—

  The door opened. Nick stepped out wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants, his hair tousled from being towel-dried. “It’s all yours,” he said, then stopped and looked at the bed that was now covered with all her belongings. The look of surprised exasperation was too much for her and she started laughing—which only made matters worse. She covered her mouth, but it was no use.

  Finally, she fell back on the bed and rolled to her side, pulling her knees up to her chest, laughing.

  “Care to share the joke?” he asked testily.

  “I don’t have anything to sleep in,” she finally said, sitting up and wiping her eyes. She grabbed items of apparel and hastily folded them, jamming them into her bags. “I must have left my pajamas at the cabin.”

  He didn’t say anything. He just went to his bag and pulled out another T-shirt and another pair of sweatpants and handed them to her. “Now, would you please move your things so that I might lie down?”

  She jumped up, grabbed the last piece of apparel—which happened to be a pair of her hip-hugger panties—and pushed them into the bag. “Sorry,” she muttered, biting her bottom lip in an effort to prevent another bout of giggles. She cleared her throat. In a suitably solemn and dignified voice, she said, “Um, thanks for the loan.”

  Nick ignored her. He walked over to the thermostat and adjusted the heat, returned to the bed and flipped back the covers on one side before he paused and asked, “Do you have a preference as to which side of the bed you sleep on?”

  She shook her head, biting her lip to quell yet another bubble of giggles that threatened to escape. What was wrong with her, anyway? A person would think she’d never shared a room or slept with a man before. Actually she hadn’t.

  Once inside the bathroom, she had turned on the water for a bath and stripped off her clothes. Oops. Forgot to put her hair up. After wrapping a towel around herself, she quietly opened the door and tiptoed out. Nick had left a small lamp on next to her side of the bed. She made her way to her backpack and pulled out her hairbrush, comb and bands for her hair.

  He didn’t move. She’d given him a quick glance when she’d first come out. Now she looked again. He was on his stomach, his head buried beneath the pillow. She couldn’t help but notice that his cell phone and pistol were beside the bed.

  After pinning her hair, she returned to the bathroom and closed the door. She turned off the water and slid into its depth with a sigh of pure, sensual satisfaction.

  Nick listened to the slight splashes she made. He wished to hell he knew what he’d ever done in his lifetime that he should have to go through such a test. At least the bed was comfortable. He sat up and looked around. There were no extra pillows that he could see, and he wasn’t giving up his pillow in order to use it as a barrier between them.

  He got up and looked in the small closet. No extra blankets. He shook his head and returned to bed. He was almost too tired to sleep.

  He was still awake when she came out of the bathroom. He lay on his side facing her and pretended to be asleep. A sweetly feminine scent surrounded her, which automatically increased his heart rate.

  He peeked at her through his lashes. His T-shirt hung almost to her knees. She’d tied her hair on top of her head in some kind of knot, but pieces were already falling in tendrils, reminding him of how she’d looked that night at the theater. Her cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the water. He imagined that her whole body was equally warm. Memories from the night before flooded his mind. He almost groaned out loud. He didn’t need to be reminded of how she felt nestled in his arms.

  She moved very carefully to her side of the bed and lifted the covers, making an effort to slide into the bed with a minimum of movement. Then she turned off the light.

  A soft glow came through the drapes, but not enough to be distracting. Nick preferred the room that way. If anything moved, he’d be able to see it.

  He didn’t know how long he lay there listening to her breathing before he finally relaxed and fell asleep.

  Sometime during the night he was awakened by her leg pressing against his. He forced himself awake and realized that Ms. Sullivan believed in taking her half of the bed in the middle. He shook his head. He should have known. He adjusted as best as he could, turned over and went back to sleep.

  Chapter 13

  Raton, New Mexico

  Friday, January 1

  Nick heard a slight noise that brought him out of a sound sleep. He opened his eyes without moving and saw a shadow moving toward the bed. Instinct
ively he leaped toward the figure, only to realize—just before he made contact—that it was Ashley. By that time, he already had her clutched to him, effectively immobilizing her from striking him.

  Given his momentum, there was no way for him to keep his balance, so he twisted, holding on to her as he fell back onto the bed. In addition, he did his best to muffle her scream before someone called the police to report a possible murder in progress.

  “Shhh. It’s just me,” he said irritably.

  She moved her head away from his hand. “I know that. What in the world is wrong with you?” She was sprawled across him, lying sideways on the bed.

  “I didn’t know you were up. I saw a moving shadow and I just reacted.” He lifted her off him and moved over to his side of the bed.

  “Well, you managed to shorten my life by several years. I almost went into cardiac arrest!” She crawled back to her side of the bed and peered at the window. It was still dark.

  “I said I’m sorry.”

  She jerked the covers over her and settled into her pillow, muttering, “I can’t even get up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night without being attacked on my way back to bed, for Pete’s sake.”

  They lay side by side staring at a ceiling they couldn’t see.

  Nick knew he should ignore her grumpiness. After all, he had startled her. No doubt she’d been more than half-asleep when he tackled her from out of nowhere.

  “Would a written apology help?” She didn’t reply. “Somehow I didn’t think so.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost dawn. We might as well—”

  She turned so that she was facing him. “No. It’s much too early to get up. We haven’t been asleep that long. And as long as we’re on the subject of rest, I’d like to point out that you are the worst cover hog I’ve ever known. I had to fight for every scrap of blanket.”

  He turned, facing her. “Well, at least I leave you some room on the bed, which is more than you did for me.”

  With each accusation they moved infinitesimally closer until they were nose to nose.

  “I gave you plenty of room. I’ve been hanging off the bed on this side the entire—”

  “Oh, to hell with it!” he muttered, and grabbed her, kissing her with all the pent-up frustration inside him. He thought he’d meant the kiss as punishment, pure and simple, and as a means of shutting her up. The kiss served the last purpose admirably, but somehow in the process he lost sight of the original purpose.

  He felt as though he were part of an explosion. As soon as his mouth touched hers, she threw her arms around him, kissing him with an abandon that took his breath away.

  Nick allowed the over whelming passion that had mushroomed between them to sweep through him. He ran his hands over her, wanting to learn every inch of her delectable body.

  Her fingers moved through his hair, kneading and tugging at him while their first kiss became one of many.

  Ashley pulled away slightly and brushed her lips against his cheek, his nose, and returned to touch his mouth with hers once again before whispering, “Love me, Nick. Please. Just love me.”

  She slipped her hand from his head and slid it beneath his shirt, stroking lightly across his chest. He was definitely going down in flames.

  “Oh, Nick,” she whispered on little more than a sigh, her hand drifting downward and finding that part of his anatomy that was alert and ready for action. He reached for her hand, thinking to brush it away. Instead, he found himself placing his hand over hers and pressing her closer.

  There were all kinds of flashing lights and sirens going off in his head, dire warnings of why this was not a good idea. None of that seemed to matter to him.

  This was Ashley he was in bed with and making love to. She was no longer his assignment or the president’s daughter, but the woman he’d fallen for, had been lusting after, the woman who’d distracted him on a daily basis since the first day he’d met her, the woman who had caused him many a restless night.

  He lifted the too-large T-shirt from her, tossing it across the bed. She tugged urgently on his own shirt, and he obligingly pulled it over his head and sent it sailing after the first. She kept kissing him wherever she could reach—his chin, his chest, until he lowered himself over her and caught her mouth with his, indulging himself at last by enacting some of his late-night fantasies.

  Eventually he allowed himself the pleasure of caressing the tip of one of her breasts with his mouth, savoring the luscious sensation. She moved her hands restlessly over his head and down to his shoulders, making tiny sounds in the back of her throat that were rapidly pushing him to the brink. He felt like an explorer who had just discovered a previously unexplored continent. He wanted to see everything there was to see and touch everything, claiming possession.

  Ashley could not stop quivering as she fiercely held on to Nick. A silent mantra replayed itself in her head—Don’t stop, please don’t stop, please don’t ever stop. She’d never experienced so many sensations at once, all of them more pleasure than she could possibly have imagined.

  She couldn’t seem to touch him enough. She wanted to read his body with her fingertips, to memorize each and every contour, every dip and hollow, every muscled plane.

  He paused and her eyes flew open, afraid that he was already bored with her. In the dim lighting she saw him fumbling with his billfold and suddenly recognized what he was reaching for.

  She hadn’t given protection a thought. She was thankful that he had the presence of mind to remember. He leaned back on his heels and she watched him in the shadows and learned what she considered a very erotic lesson. When he knelt over her once again she instinctively shifted to accommodate him, her arms snaking around his neck once more. She kissed him with an urgency she hoped would mask the fact that she wasn’t at all certain what happened next.

  She could hear their harsh breathing echoing in the darkness, an erotic sound that heightened the sensations that surrounded her.

  She tried not to stiffen when he first touched her so intimately, not wanting him to know, not until sometime later—

  “Damn it!” he said, suddenly rearing back from her.

  No way was he going to stop now. She pulled him toward her and tightened her legs so that she was able to raise her body toward him, forcing him into her body. Despite the discomfort, Ashley almost laughed out loud with the sheer joy of becoming a part of this man. She nestled her head into his shoulder, kissing him over and over.

  With a groan that sounded like despair, he lowered them both to the bed. She took no chances that he might change his mind at this stage. Ashley kept herself plastered against him, moving with him, learning his rhythm until she knew nothing else but the pleasure he offered her with his body. She never wanted these marvelous sensations to end. She wanted them to go on and on—and then her world seemed to explode around her, her body seemingly disconnected from her. She felt as though she were free-falling through a sensation of unbelievable satisfaction.

  Nick moved faster, his breathing more ragged until he gave one final lunge that seemed to meld them in a cosmic sort of way. Ashley knew at that moment in time that she belonged to this man and always would, regardless of what might happen in the future.

  His head drooped to the pillow beside her and he groaned as though in pain. After several deep breaths Nick carefully shifted so that his weight was no longer on her. He still held her close, while she clung to him, never wanting to move. He muttered something beneath his breath.

  “What did you say?” she whispered, nibbling on his ear.

  He half-laughed, half-groaned. “You really don’t want to know.”

  She lazily stroked his back, feeling the dampness, and smiled. “Probably not,” she agreed.

  “This is a hell of a time to discover that we can finally agree on something.”

  “Oh, I’m sure we’ll find other things,” she replied, smiling to herself.

  After several minutes of silence he finally said, “You know I never mean
t this to happen.”

  “If you dare to tell me that you’re sorry…”

  “Ah, Ashley.” Words seemed to fail him. “How could I say that with any sincerity? You’ve driven me crazy.” He searched for and found her mouth, giving her a very thorough and leisurely kiss.

  She could feel him growing between them. She reached down and gently stroked him.

  “Happy New Year, Nick.”

  There was no more conversation.

  Ashley awoke some time later when she felt the bed shift. She reluctantly opened her eyes, then blinked. Nick sat on the side of the bed, fully dressed, watching her.

  “I let you sleep as long as I dared, darlin’. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us and need to get on the road.”

  She yawned and stretched, looking at him in wonder. “I never heard you get up.”

  He leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose. “My training shows in some areas more than others.”

  “Mmm, you smell good.” She stroked his jaw. “You’ve already showered and shaved. Darn. I wanted to shower with you.”

  He groaned. “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that. You completely destroy my concentration. Please remember that I’ll be driving all day.”

  She shoved the covers away before she remembered that she was nude. She started to grab them when he took them out of her hands.

  “A little late for modesty, isn’t it, Ms. Sullivan?”

  She knew she was blushing, but couldn’t help it. She’d never seen this warm-eyed, teasing, gentle Nick before. Whatever battles he’d been waging, he was no longer including her in the warfare.

  “There’s a twenty-four-hour restaurant next door to the motel where we can have breakfast without bothering with the car.”

  The thought of food made her realize she hadn’t had anything to eat since noon yesterday. She stretched down to the floor and picked up her discarded T-shirt, wrapped it around her and made a dash for the bathroom.

  She could hear his chuckle before she closed the door.