The Sweet Thief

by Temple Madison

  “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” he whispered as he kissed her neck and inhaled deeply.

  * * * *

  From the doorway, Griff saw the kiss with fire in his eyes. He also saw the way Lorelei melted in Dash’s arms, giving in to the lust she’d said she wanted. His gaze bored into Dash’s blond hair as it tumbled forward, and didn’t miss the way Lorelei lustily buried her fingers in it. He turned away clenching his hands into fists, two things in mind.

  One—to get Dash reassigned.

  And two—to try to ignore the deep pang of jealously growing inside him.

  With his teeth clenched, he rushed back to the private quarters, grabbed the phone, and punched in the familiar numbers. As he listened to the ring at the other end, he looked back at his bedroom door, thinking about what was happening in the Oval Office. If he didn’t stop this, his redheaded wife would no doubt become the sweetheart of the Secret Service men, with Dash being the first in a long line. Now that he thought of it, he hadn’t assigned Dash to her—the wily Secret Service man had offered to relieve Chad of his duty of escorting Lorelei and take the job himself. The First Lady needed a firmer hand, he’d said. Just until the feisty First Lady came to understand that she had to comply with the rules. Griff had been delighted. At last, he could rest easy knowing Dash wasn’t going to let her out of his sight.

  The bastard!

  Thinking back, it was only a few days earlier that he’d noticed Dash had become more attentive toward her. He would do little things like give her a single rose, a wink, a dazzling smile.

  Right before my goddamned eyes. I played right into his fuckin’ hands.

  The very thought wrenched Griff’s gut, sending an icy chill down his spine. He couldn’t help wondering if they had ever walked in the moonlight or wrestled in—tangled sheets.

  “What the hell is holding this up?” Griff yelled over the phone when he received an answer. “I reported Dash Nilsson days ago.”

  “It’s not that easy, Mr. President. Because Dash is the White House security chief, his station is permanent. The other agents... they can be reassigned at will, but Dash’s station is there to stay.”

  “You can fire him, can’t you?”

  “Sure, but what’s he done? Protect the First Lady? I thought that’s what he was supposed to do. Sounds to me like he’s just doing his job.”

  “There’s something going on, I tell you.”

  “You mean a little hanky-panky?”

  “Yes!” Griff yelled, raking his fingers through his hair.

  “Sir, if you’ll excuse me for saying it, I think it’s just your imagination. Dash’s record is spotless. He’s the best agent we’ve ever had.”

  “Look, you bastard. I’m the president of these fuckin’ United States, and if I say there’s hanky-panky going on, there damn well is.”

  “Well,” the man breathed into the phone. “If there is, it’ll be a first. I mean... the First Lady bein’ caught in a scandal instead of you.”

  “I’d advise you to watch your tongue, Leonard.”

  “Yeah, well,” the tired Justice Department chief said. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Griff slammed the phone down, then turned and left the bedroom. He was just rounding the corner to go into the living room when he saw Lorelei and Dash sitting on the couch. They were drinking champagne, so close they were almost sitting in each other’s lap. Lorelei turned her head and looked at Griff. The sudden coldness in her eyes brought a chill to his heart, and tears welled up in his eyes. Since the night he’d propositioned her, she hadn’t been in to see him or even acted as if she knew he was alive. He was surprised to find that he missed her fussing over him and making him take his medicine. Sniffing back the sudden moistness, he tried to put on a friendly front. “Well, what are you two doin’ out here? Dash, shouldn’t you be downstairs in front of the monitoring equipment?”

  “It’s covered, sir,” Dash said, not moving his focus away from Lorelei.

  Griff winced. Dash calling him sir made him feel old. He looked at Lorelei, remembering how young she was. Feeling unwelcome, he turned to leave, but before he turned the corner, he looked back and saw Dash and Lorelei’s lips meet. Just before Dash’s lips covered hers, he saw the agent’s tongue slip into her mouth, and it sent rockets exploding in his brain. “All right, that’s it!” Griff yelled at Dash. “Get the hell out of here and don’t come back!”

  The two lovers jumped apart, looking at Griff as if he’d lost his mind.

  * * * *

  As Senator Bliss was being shown in, Griff was ordering Dash out. “What the hell is goin’ on in here?”

  “It’s your darling daughter, Senator. She’s carrying on an affair right in front of my eyes.” He looked over at Dash and lifted his hand toward him. “With this... this two-bit, gun-carrying, blond-haired Casanova.”

  The senator pushed through, placed himself between the battling parties, and looked at each one. “Lorelei, is this true?”

  Lorelei’s eyes blazed. “Oh, shut up!”

  The senator’s eyes widened. This was the first time Lorelei had ever talked back to him, so he knew it was serious.

  Griff stepped forward, looking at Dash as if he could kill him. “I told you to leave these quarters, and I mean now.”

  “I can’t leave, I’m assigned here. If I walk off the job, it’ll be a court martial offense. If you’ll excuse me, sir, I’m not risking a court martial just because you don’t like seeing your wife happy.”

  “Why, you bastard!” Griff lunged at him, but the senator held him back.

  Griff struggled, but the senator managed to hold him off, and then turned toward Dash. “Get the hell out of here, Dash. Now! Don’t worry about a court martial. I’ll cover for you.” When Dash didn’t move, he yelled at him. “The monitoring room. Go down to the goddamned monitoring room while I sort this out.”

  Dash backed away slowly and looked over at Lorelei, who gave a furtive nod. His gaze lingered on hers for a moment before he turned and rushed out.

  As soon as Dash was out of the room, the senator began barking out orders. “All right, sit down both of you. We’re going to get this thing settled.”

  Griff and Lorelei glared at each other as each of them slowly took a seat.

  “Well, I see it didn’t take you long to find a man,” Griff spat.

  “If I remember right, you told me to do exactly that.”

  “I didn’t tell you to fuck the staff!”

  “Shut your filthy mouth!”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Griff said with soft sarcasm. “Am I too indelicate for you? Let me put it another way.” He smiled, extended a pinkie, and said, “Are you fuckin’ the creep?”

  “Simmer down, son, and let’s try to act like adults here.”

  “But she’s the goddamned First Lady. She’s not supposed to conduct herself in such a manner.”

  “And you’re the friggin’ president. Did it stop you?” Lorelei barked while wagging her head. “I don’t think so.”

  With a fierce look on his face, Griff lunged toward Lorelei, but the senator managed to get between them.

  Griff looked at him. “Why the hell are you defendin’ her?”

  “Griff, can’t you see that you brought this mess on yourself?”

  Griff looked at the senator, amazement written on his face. “And just how did I do that?”

  “My god, man, do I have to spell it out for you?”

  “Only if you want me to know.”

  “Griff, for a woman to be told that her husband doesn’t love her... and on their honeymoon, for god’s sake, I’d say that’s pretty devastating. A normal, healthy woman like Lorelei has needs, too. You satisfied your needs with every female you could find, but you object to Lorelei doin’ the same.”

  “I didn’t give a rat’s ass!” Griff yelled.

  “And now you do?”

  “I just think it’s... well, unladylike.”

  “Unladylike!” Lorelei
exploded. “Since I’ve been in this white prison, I’ve been so goddamned ladylike, I’d like to puke.”

  “Well, get in line, sister.”

  “Go to hell, you bastard.”

  “All right, all right! Stop this foolishness, both of you,” the senator yelled. Turning to Griff, he said, “Griff, look at Lorelei.”

  Griff frowned at the senator. “What?”

  “I said look at her. Is that so hard to do?”

  Griff turned toward his wife and looked at her. As his gaze lingered, his eyes filled with disgust, as if he were being asked to look at Medusa.

  “What do you see?”

  “I see a little redheaded tramp, but that’s not so unusual since all redheads are tr—”

  “Griff!” the senator shouted. “Forget her red hair for a moment and look at her! Describe to me what you see.”

  Griff began to scan Lorelei. “Red hair,” he said loudly and defiantly, and then hesitated. “Brown... no, bronze eyes. They glitter and... have kind of a... wild...”

  “You don’t have to go into that much detail. Move on.”

  Irritated, he moved his gaze to her mouth. “Her lips are... well, they’re—” He narrowed his eyes on her mouth, and as it opened slightly, he saw her gleaming white teeth and imagined slipping his tongue between them. “They’re kind of... coral... I guess.”

  “What else?” the senator asked.

  He dropped his eyes to her breasts, and he began sweating. He brought his hand up and began wiping it across his mouth. Was it his imagination, or could he see her erect nipples pressing against the thin material? “She’s... uh...”

  “She’s what?” the senator urged.

  “Extremely well endo... uh...” He stammered. “Hell, I don’t know, she’s got big boo—”

  “Oh!” Lorelei shouted. “He was going to say boobs!”

  “She’s beautiful,” the senator interrupted before Lorelei began clawing at him. “Is that what you’re trying to say?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Then say it!”

  “She’s beauti... she’s b... uh...”

  The seconds ticked by while Griff struggled. Finally the senator groused, “My god, man, why can’t you say it?”

  “I don’t know.” He slid his eyes away from her quickly.

  The senator turned toward Lorelei. “Now, baby, look at Griff, and tell me what you see.”

  “I see a fuckin’ lowlife son of a...”

  “Lorelei! Do the same damn thing that Griff did. Just tell me what you see.” The senator was losing his patience.

  Lorelei lifted her eyes. “His hair is dark, curly, and his eyes are beady... like a snake!”

  “Lorelei, are you going to act like an adult, or am I going to have to spank you like I did when you were a child?”

  * * * *

  Lorelei lowered her eyes, then looked at him again. “His eyes are sort of a stormy blue with little specks of...” She frowned and leaned forward. “I don’t know,” she muttered as she narrowed her eyes on his. “What is that?” She pushed her face closer to see better and realized their faces were only inches apart. His warm breath touched her face. Suddenly, their gazes met, but they weren’t inspecting each other anymore—they delved deeply, one into the other, and their breathing became labored.

  “Lorelei,” Griff whispered.

  A warning bell sounded deep in Lorelei’s psyche, and she pulled away quickly. “I don’t want to play this game anymore, Daddy.”

  “It’s okay. I think I’ve made my point. Both of you are crazy for each other, but because of pride, or past hurts, or whatever, neither of you will admit it.” He turned to Griff. “Don’t forget the man that just left this room, and thousands of others out there who are willing to be the kind of man Lorelei needs, even if you’re not. If you care anything at all about her, you’ll get your act together before it’s too late.” He turned toward Lorelei. “And you, young lady, stay away from that boy. He’s dangerous. He’d take a bullet for you, but wouldn’t hesitate to ruin your life.” He looked over at Griff. “You’d do well to get rid of him if you can.”

  Griff jumped up and began pacing. “It wouldn’t do any good. There are too many goddamned men running around this place. If it’s not Dash, it’ll be somebody else.”

  “No,” the senator said thoughtfully. “I don’t think so. It just so happens Dash is a little bolder than the rest. Maybe a little hungrier.” The senator put his hand up to his mustache. “He’s from Texas, you know. Yeah,” he said, sighing. “Them Texans are bold, and rough as a cob. Even the women. They wouldn’t bat an eyelash if they had to fuck a cactus.” The senator turned and looked at Griff. “Oh, sorry. My mind wanders sometime. Well, what’s—”

  Griff lifted his palm up, then looked at Lorelei with a glare. “I only want to know one thing. How far has this thing gone? Have you... you know.”

  “None of your goddamned business!”

  “Lorelei!” Griff shouted. “If this gets out, there’ll be a scandal so bad we’ll never live it down!”

  “Will it embarrass you?”

  “Of course!”

  “Wonderful!” she shouted and jumped up to go.

  * * * *

  Griff ran and caught her. “All right, you little bitch. Maybe I did have a few affairs, but I never flaunted them in front of your face like you seem to be doing here.”

  She turned and looked at him sarcastically. “The restaurant?”

  Griff frowned. “Well...”

  “The night of your victory speech. I believe Nancy was her name?”

  “Yeah... well...”

  “The party?”

  “Now that wasn’t my fault. That girl was planted there.”

  “Oh, sure,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “They waved the bait in front of your beady little snake eyes, and you went for it.”

  “Lorelei, you have to believe me. I tell you, she practically attacked me.”

  “When I opened that door, you didn’t look like you were fighting her off.”

  Griff’s chest ached with guilt as he looked at her.

  “Give up?”

  He lifted his arms in surrender.

  She glared at him. “Now my one tiny little fling doesn’t seem like so much, does it? The way I see it, I’m way behind.” She winked at him. “But I’ll catch up.”

  “Lorelei,” he said, his eyes wide as he looked at her worriedly. “You don’t mean that.”

  “Well, maybe I was a little hasty,” she said, her voice deceptively sweet and soft. “Griff, would you do one thing for me, suga’?”

  “Of course, what is it?”

  “Go fuck a cactus!” Her face looked like thunder as she whirled, strode down the hall, and slammed into her room.

  “Ouch,” Griff roared, feeling an imaginary pain between his legs.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next day in the Private Residence—

  Griff spent the next day trying to figure out what to do with Lorelei. He would ultimately find himself gazing out of a window instead of giving his attention to the person talking to him. He’d never had to romance a woman before, but knew if he didn’t do something fast, Lorelei would soon be beyond his reach. It was usually the woman who came after him, doing little things to let him know she was interested—a look, a touch, a wink. Hell, other women were no problem, but Lorelei—she knew him too well.

  Aside from everything else that had happened, he’d committed the ultimate sin when he’d blatantly propositioned her—his wife. What ultimate stupidity. Now, no matter what he did or said, she would think his reason for wanting her would be to keep from being celibate for seven more years. He knew now that he really felt something for her, but he didn’t know how to go about convincing her of his true feelings. Every time he saw her, his gaze would linger, looking for any sign that she still cared. Instead of her usual warmth, she would give him the cold shoulder and seemed to avoid him whenever she could. A chill seized Griff when he
realized that she’d had enough of his playboy mentality, but he didn’t know how to be anything else. As little as six months before—maybe even three—it wouldn’t have mattered, but now, it seemed his very life depended on getting his wife back.

  Griff looked down at his watch. Already seven. It had been a grueling day, but now, thank god, it was over. He sat down on the side of his bed and picked up the telephone. He punched a few buttons and spoke to one of the kitchen staff. “Send a bottle of champagne up to my wife and put—”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but your wife isn’t in.”

  Griff frowned down into the phone. “Isn’t in? Where the hell is she?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know, sir.”

  Griff slammed the phone down and ran out of his room. He headed down to the monitoring chamber as fast as he could. Finally slamming through the door, he looked around the dim little space for a moment, his eyes adjusting to the gloom.

  One of the agents jumped up from in front of the monitors that showed every public room and every inch of ground that the White House stood on. Standing straight and tall, he spat out, “Agent Jake Crowley, at your service.”

  Griff ignored him and looked around. “Where’s Dash?” he shouted.

  “He’s servicing the First Lady, sir.”

  Griff glared at him with fire in his eyes. “Servicing? What the hell do you mean servicing?”

  “Sorry, I just meant he’s escorting her, sir.”

  “Where?” Griff shouted as he lunged forward and grabbed the agent’s collar. “Where did they go?”

  The agent gulped in fear. “S-She’s speaking somewhere, s-sir.”