Coke heads.
“George…” Spencer spoke slowly. “Do we need to talk in private?”
George’s expression was bitter. “No,” he ground out. “We need to get to work. On JT Buchanan for Texas Attorney General.”
That wasn’t the whole story, Spencer realized. George may have been angry at her, but something else needled him.
“This isn’t like you, George. You’re usually much more professional than this.”
JT frowned and crossed his arms. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”
George pulled his shoulders back and stood little taller. “Maybe not.” He addressed JT. “I can get you elected. I’ll take care of business. I just don’t want her running and tattling to daddy if she objects to my methods.”
Spencer blinked in shock at George’s accusation. “I’ve never tattled to my father any of the times I’ve objected to your methods. And there’ve been quite a few.”
George tilted his head. “That’s right. You just get your boyfriend to do it.”
“What are you talking about?”
George smirked then. “Oh, so the great Spencer Hightower doesn’t know everything that happens around her?”
That made Spencer frown. She really didn’t like not knowing everything. “Tell me.” It was a low threat.
“Your boyfriend objected to the assistance I provided on the Troy Duncan matter. And soon after, the Senator dispatched me here to help.” George tugged on his French cuffs under his navy suit. “It’s fine. I learned my lesson. Don’t mess with the princess. Got it.”
“You sent out the story about Dimitri.” It was an educated guess.
George regarded her with disdain. “No. Did I provide information to Troy’s representation that would be useful in protecting his reputation?” George shrugged. “You put yourself in that firing range when you became involved with Dalynn Kay.”
A spark of anger exploded in Spencer’s chest. “Like I did when I was twelve? And the whole country became fascinated with my deformed leg and my father’s driving skills? Did I do that, too?”
George threw up his hands.
Spencer continued. “I am not fair game, anymore, got it? I never was.”
“Everyone’s fair game in politics,” George countered.
There was a pause in the thick, acrid air of the room. Then JT spoke. “So you’re here because you pissed off Dad Hightower when you went after Spencer.”
Spencer looked at JT with disbelief in her face, and then she shook her head. “My father agrees with George. Everyone’s fair game.” She turned to George then, wondering if he’d disagree with her. It would be nice if her father had objected to her being used as a pawn in the press, and not just when it killed his chances for the Oval Office.
But George was unflappable. “Or maybe I’m here because her boyfriend didn’t like it. Whatever, I’m here. We’ll get you elected and help lay the groundwork for Hightower for President.”
Spencer only wanted to clear one thing up. “What do you mean my boyfriend didn’t like it?”
…
The door to the room flew open and in spilled Liam Connelly, followed by a frantic Nora Dexter and a determined Rainey White.
“There’s the man of the hour.” George’s voice was cool yet snide.
Liam didn’t respond to George. He didn’t turn his head when Nora explained that they were trying to keep him out, or when Rainey repeated something to Spencer about sleeping with the enemy. He could only see Spencer.
Calm, cool, collected.
Spencer.
With one look, he could tell she knew what he had done.
She was still angry, still an avenging angel.
“Goddamnit, Liam!” That was JT. “Do you have to do this now? We’re in the middle of a campaign event.”
Liam didn’t acknowledge JT, staying focused on his goal. Spencer. Then JT was in front of him, between him and his woman.
“This is between me and her,” Liam declared.
“Typical,” JT spat. “I told you this wouldn’t work. I told you. But no. You just had to try. And now you’re ruining a meeting because you can’t get back with one of your flings.”
Liam hated to do it. He loved the guy but…he couldn’t help it. He hauled his fist back and threw it, planting it in JT’s self-righteous, know-it-all nose.
Women screamed. Nora, on Liam’s right, ran to JT, putting her hands on his face and helping him sit on the damask chesterfield. Liam looked over her shoulder to check to make sure JT wasn’t bleeding all over the place. He couldn’t tell, since JT’s head was comfortably nestled on the redhead’s lap.
Spencer stared at him, furious. “You just punched the future Attorney General of Texas.”
Liam pulled his shoulders back. “He just insulted the future Mrs. Liam Connelly.”
Someone nearby gasped dramatically. It sounded a lot like Nora. “Like hell,” Spencer ground out through gritted teeth. “Get out.”
“Not until I’ve said what I need to say.”
“I don’t care what you have to say-”
“I love you.”
Spencer paused. It was the best and worst thing in the world to say.
“Get out. So I can start cleaning up the mess you’ve made.” First, the guests would need to be dealt with. Then a pre-emptive call to the press. A fight breaking out at JT’s first fundraiser? The state’s newspapers would love that.
“You don’t do messes.”
Spencer arched an eyebrow at him. “No. I do not.”
“You don’t like loose ends.”
“Do you have a screw loose? I said, you need to leave. Now.” Spencer spoke to the room next. “Someone call the cops. Security needs to escort Mr. Connelly out.”
Liam spread his arms wide. “I’ll wait.”
No one moved. Finally Spencer reached for her phone, then she remembered. She didn’t have pockets in this fucking dress. And she’d given her phone back to Liam. She turned to Rainey, then Nora. Neither woman pulled out a cell phone.
JT groaned on the couch, “For God’s sake, listen to the man.” Nora leaned over him, adjusting his head on her lap.
“You, keep quiet.” Spencer glared at JT. Just because someone was going to listen to her, dammit.
“What is wrong with you? Haven’t you done enough?” She hissed at Liam.
Liam shook his head. “Not yet. Not ever. Because I want to be with you, Spencer. I want to wake up every morning with you and wonder what kind of craziness is going to happen that day. I want to take you to bed every night…”
“That’s it!” Spencer yelled. “Everybody out!”
Nobody moved.
Liam only grinned. “They’re on my side.”
“No, I’m not,” JT inserted.
“I kind of am,” Nora said, with an apologetic tone. “He’s being really sweet.”
Spencer forced her attention back to Liam. He was just in his rolled up shirtsleeves again, showing his corded, tan forearms. Her stomach clenched at the sight of him, all handsome and, yes, sweet. Not for her, though.
She slowly shook her head. “I can’t.” She loved him too much to keep him. Loving him was too crazy, too unpredictable. Something was going to go wrong. Something would flame out, fly off the handle, and once that happened… Spencer would never be able to recover. This outcome, she could control. Had to control.
Liam took a step toward her, his fingers going to his top button of his shirt.
“What are you doing?” Liam’s fingers slipped the button loose. Of course he didn’t answer. Because why would anyone actually do what she wanted tonight?
“Liam, we’re just not good together.” The words came out in a rush as he went to the second button. Crap.
The second button was slipped loose. And he was going for a third. All her friends were here! “This just proves my point…” His shirt was half unbuttoned. “You are acting crazy. I’m acting crazy. This is no good for either one of us.”
/> “It’s good for me,” offered Rainey, lifting her hand. Spencer would have shot her a quelling stare, but…
Liam was in front of her. Still working on opening his shirt, showing everyone in the room his perfect body, chest, abs, all of it. Oh, God. Spencer licked her lips. She was done. “This just proves my point,” she repeated, gesturing toward the muscled torso inches away from her fingertips. “I can’t…this…”
Liam slipped off his shirt and someone in the room made an appreciative noise. Someone else groaned. The groan might have come from JT, but she wasn’t looking at anything except the blue eyes in front of her, holding her captive. “What are you doing?” She asked, breathing a little harder than usual.
Then he flexed a shoulder toward her. She inhaled a sharp breath. “You didn’t…” She touched his shoulder, still red from the tattoo needle. Through the haze of tears, Spencer traced the black outline of the state of Texas, the red heart in the middle, and the tiny, stylized letter S in the heart.
“I told you I was saving this arm. I didn’t even know what I was saving it for, until you. I was saving it for my family. For when I finally found my home. When I found you.”
“Liam…” Spencer whispered.
“No more messes. No more loose ends.” Liam took her hand and kissed her fingertips. “I promise. I’m here to stay. If you’ll have me.”
Spencer met his intense stare, overwhelmed by what had just happened. Her whole world was tilting, cracking up, and turning everything upside down. So she did the only thing she knew how to do.
“Nora!” She barked. “Is JT bleeding?”
“No,” Nora answered.
“Is he swollen? Cut? Otherwise visibly injured?”
“No,” Nora repeated. “His nose is a little red.”
Spencer nodded. “We need him back on the floor. Lucy Cho from Big D Magazine was out there. Find her. Talk her into a feature.” Spencer spared a quick glance at Rainey. “Find JT a couple of aspirin. The party planner should have a bottle.” Now Spencer’s attention was on the candidate, getting up from the sofa. “Do you have a speech?”
Before JT could answer, Spencer gave directions to Rainey. “Get something down for him. You know the drill. Use the hot air balloon story.”
“What hot air balloon story?” JT asked.
Rainey patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s a good one. They’ll love it.”
Nora and Rainey led JT out to rejoin his campaign supporters. Spencer and George faced each other like long-term adversaries, wary and knowing.
After a pause, George spoke first. “You would have done the same as me. We control the press, utilize our research…”
Spencer interrupted. “Stalk my clients at the hair salon…”
George was unfazed. “It’s not personal, you know that. It’s just the way we do business. You would have done the same,” he repeated.
The man in front of Spencer was only a few years older, but streaks of silver brushed by George’s ears, and his eyes were those of someone who had lived a long and hard life. Spencer remembered the young, optimistic college student that had come to her father’s campaign, filled with vigor and fresh ideas. She shook her head.
“I wouldn’t have,” she said. “Family’s off limits.”
George’s lips curled at the word “family.” “Then I haven’t taught you anything.” He nodded curtly at Liam. “Excuse me. I have a campaign to win.”
Then Liam and Spencer were alone, in the room where it had all started. Liam’s mind must have been on the same wavelength, because he reached over and picked up a crystal candlestick and handed it to Spencer.
She met his eyes, overwhelmed by what she saw. Strength. Resolve. Love. She took the candlestick.
“Put a shirt on,” she snapped. “I’m not talking to you while you’re half-naked.”
Liam did as he was told, slowly, watching her approach the heavy bookcase. The change that had come over her when she was shouting orders about aspirin and reporters wasn’t going anywhere. She was all business, composed and sharp. It didn’t bode well.
“Tell me why George is pissed at you.” She gave him an even stare.
…
Crap. Liam ran a hand over his scalp. He should have predicted this, that she wouldn’t appreciate decisions being made without her.
“I figured out it was George who leaked the story about Dimitri–”
“And you went to my father?” Her voice rose incredulously.
He couldn’t tell how mad she was, but he’d come this far, and he couldn’t turn back now. “Yes,” he answered. “George needed to be taught a lesson. I figured a reassignment to JT’s campaign would be a bit of a step down for him.”
Spencer’s face was inscrutable. “And Dimitri?”
“Said he thought George was immigration; that’s why he spilled. I thought it was bullshit, but we made a deal. He’ll be keeping his mouth shut.”
“If he wants to keep Troy as a spokesman.”
Liam stilled. There had been no announcement yet, not until Troy’s photo shoot took place. “How did you know that?”
Spencer leaned against the bookcase, weighing the candlestick in her palms. “I think you forget how many people I know.”
“Let me guess, Roberta called you?”
Spencer’s face said it all. Dumbass.
“Look,” Liam hesitated. “I didn’t-”
She turned her back to him and ran a hand on the corner of the bookcase where there should have been a dent from where Dimitri’s head had crushed into it. “It all started here, right?”
Liam dropped his protest and submitted to her topic of conversation. “What?”
“You. Having my back.” Her voice was detached, bemused even. Liam didn’t know what to make of it.
“In the last few days, I wasn’t sure…” Her voice trailed off, and then she shook her head in a decisive slice as she turned back to face him. “No, I thought I’d lost you. I heard about you making deals with Dimitri, with Roberta. I thought they were rewards for good behavior, for helping you get revenge against me. But you went to my father.” Her eyes were clear and sparkling with tears. “That’s the best thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
The statement damn near killed Liam. All he did was confront someone, angle for a little bit of justice for a woman who’d been completely wronged by her own family.
She shook her head as she started talking, the words tumbling out of her mouth. “I’ve said it before—we’re too competitive. We’re too driven. We both have to win, and we’re never…”
“You sure like to try to talk me out of stuff.”
There was a plea in her eyes. “Look at what happened, Liam. We both jumped at each other’s throats the first chance we got. You assumed I screwed you over, I assumed that you screwed me over. It’s what we do.”
He was not letting her go down this path again. “And despite all that, I’m still in love with you. There. I’ve said it. I should have told you a long time ago.” His heart raced, and he held his breath until she answered him.
…
Spencer didn’t stop the tears that tumbled out. She didn’t want to hold anything back. Not with him. Not anymore. “I know. You’re still here. That’s all that matters. Even after I tried to rip you a new one. You came back. And you coming back told me you loved me, more than a tattoo, more than going to Dimitri. You loved me for me.” The candlestick shook in her hands. “You had my back from the beginning.”
“And I always will.” Liam took a step forward, close enough to touch so she placed a palm on his chest. The beat of his heart pulsed beneath her touch. It was strong, safe, and certain. If she was going to place a bet on anyone, it would be him.
She put the crystal candlestick down.
“This is it, you know. Like you said, I don’t do loose ends, Liam.” She hooked a finger in his shirt, pulled him against her, and backed up against the bookcase. Caught. “Once I tie something up, it’s permanent.”
He leaned down and whispered in her ear, his breath sending delicious tremors over her sensitive skin. “Permanent works for me.”
Spencer tilted her head and stood on her toes to kiss him, firm and sweet. “I love you.” She pressed the words against his lips, between kisses, elation sweeping through her body. For the ultimate win, she had to lose her heart. For the first time in her life, she was completely okay with losing.
“Wait,” he said. Liam reached into his pocket and handed her a priceless piece of plastic.
Spencer stared at the Blackberry then she wrapped a hand around his neck and drew his mouth to hers, oblivious to the cheers and claps in the next room as the candidate took the stage and the sound of a cell phone hitting the floor.
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Acknowledgments
At this point, it’s probably a cliché to say that a book is written in a vacuum and it’s published by a team, but I could not have written this book in my vacuum without the support and encouragement of my wonderful husband. It takes a perceptive and loving man to understand when I need to take off and spend some time alone with the imaginary people on my computer. To J, thanks for being on my team and having my back from the beginning.
As for the publishing side of book-making, I found my team very quickly at Entangled and I want to thank Theresa, Anita, Liz, Candace, Meredith, and Kim for bringing this long-held dream to fruition.
Quite literally, I don’t think this particular book would have been written without DARA, a magical place where each word is applauded, failure is celebrated and roses bloom all year long.
A thousand thanks to the other women in the back row, Ophelia and Alexandra. You two make this writing gig a thousand times easier and more fun. And to Jill, a mentor and friend who always gives the perfect advice, right when I need it (i.e., when I am clueless, freaking out, and dashing off insane, frantic emails.) I’m so proud of you and I know Ann and Jim are too.
Know When to Hold Him Page 26
