“It’s just for a little while. And I’ll arrange for private security for you if you want to go back to your apartment and the university. We can make that happen tomorrow. Just say the word.”
“Not the RCMP.”
He shakes his head. “No. Private security, paid for out my own pocket.”
“I can’t let you—”
“You can, and you will, Sprite.”
His tone works where his words didn’t. “Okay.”
“Excuse me?”
I smile. “Yes, Sir.”
“You’re mine to protect, Ellie. Never forget that.”
“I won’t.” I take a deep breath. “I’d like to go to campus next Monday. I have a meeting with my advisor. But I don’t need to go anywhere before then.”
“We’ll make sure that happens. And until then, you can roam around here wearing nothing but my dress shirts. Or just…nothing. Either would please me immensely.”
I set aside my work and stand, carefully stripping him out of his shirt. My hands slide beneath the cotton, touching him for no other reason than the warmth of his skin brings me joy. Hard muscles, tight planes, soft fur down the middle…I bare it all. Then I quietly strip for him, taking off my tank top and lounge pants. He watches me through hooded eyes as I pick up his dress shirt and wrap myself in the soft cotton that smells just like him.
“Now I can make you that sandwich,” I whisper, and he picks me up instead. My legs wrap around his waist and he kisses me hungrily.
“After,” he says.
“Later?”
“Much later.”
38
Gavin
Ellie’s birthday begins with me on the other side of the country, wrapping up a three day hop through the Prairie provinces, talking trade on this side of the border. But by mid-day I’m jetting back across the country to see her, and I can’t wait.
Last week she was totally fine with laying low.
This week she’s going nuts and I can’t blame her. Her first outing with her private security guards went just fine. But when she tried to go to yoga the next day, two photographers blocked her entrance to the studio until the owner came out and escorted her inside.
I lost my shit over that one, and Lachlan had to stand between me and the press bus at our event.
“This will blow over,” he insisted, and he was right.
I fucking hate to admit that. I really wanted to bust some heads that day, but the guilty parties weren’t on that bus. They were three provinces away, and losing my cool would only make the story bigger, not help it fade away.
So she’s back to spending most of her time at 24 Sussex, although this time people know that’s where she is, so leaving is harder.
But it’s not impossible, and tonight I’m taking her out for a private birthday celebration. Her roommate agreed to go shopping for a surprise birthday dress for Ellie—through Beth as my proxy, because despite officially not being afraid of anything, I’m still a little scared of Sasha.
Beth is waiting for me at the airport when we land. The first thing she hands me once we’re driving to Parliament is a stack of letters to sign. The next is a long, slim velvet box. “This arrived for you while you were gone.”
Thank God for overnight shipping and online shopping. “Thanks. And the other gifts?”
“There’s a boxed up dress and shoes from Sasha in the trunk. And the big gift is at the Hill. Do you want to take it over?”
I glance at Lachlan, who is studiously staring straight ahead. “You think they’ll let me?”
She sniffs frostily. “It’s her birthday. If they don’t, there’s no hope for them.”
“I can hear you,” Lachlan says gruffly from the front seat.
I smirk. Of course, I’m in the smug position of being very much in love, and these two are still circling each other like idiots, so I’m just being mean, but whatever. It’s my girlfriend’s birthday and I’m about to spoil her rotten. “So that’s a yes?”
He sighs. “Sure. You can take Ellie’s present to 24 Sussex.”
I only meant to go into the office for a few minutes, but that’s never how it goes, so it’s already five o’clock when I arrive home. Early by any measure, except for when I haven’t seen Ellie for a few days and it’s her birthday and I know she’s waiting for me.
I find her in my room, fresh from the shower and wrapped in a towel. I toss her gifts on the bed and wrap my arms around her from behind. “Missed you,” I whisper as I kiss her neck. “Are you wearing makeup that I’ll mess up if I kiss you properly?”
She shakes her head and I spin her around, cupping the back of her neck as I pour just how much I missed her into one hot kiss after another. She tastes like sunshine and berries, the sweetest woman I’ve ever kissed, and it takes all my will power not to tug away the towel and drop to my knees.
Later. There’s time for me to lick up every last inch of her later. Maybe while she’s tied to my bed and begging me for yet another orgasm.
“Finish getting ready,” I whisper against her lips as I release her.
“I’m not sure what to wear,” she whispers back. “I don’t have any nice dresses here and Sasha was too busy to meet up with Lachlan.”
I grin. “She was too busy running an errand for me—picking up your first present.”
“What?” She presses her hands against my chest and pushes me lightly out of the way. I gesture toward the bed. Three presents.
I’ve never wanted to lavish a woman with gifts as much as I want to spoil Ellie. But I’ve contained myself today to practical gifts—if we’re going by the literal definition of practical, and ignoring that one of them is a pearl necklace. Mostly practical.
She lifts the lid on the largest box and gasps. I’d given Sasha some parameters. Strapless, like the dress she wore to the fundraiser. Green or blue, to set off her colouring perfectly. And nothing too stiff.
What Ellie lifts out of the box matches what I saw in my mind almost exactly—and the one way it’s different is even better than I imagined. My dick slams into gear as she drops her towel and slides her naked body into the gauzy, ethereal layers of chiffon. It’s not strapless, exactly. The top layer of fabric floats over her breasts and glides over her shoulders, twisting behind her before falling into the skirt. But it’s see-through, too, an illusion of skin that I can see but can’t touch, and it’s perfect.
“Open the next one,” I say roughly. She reaches for the jewelry box and I move behind her. Her zipper’s only partially done up, and I zip her closed, rubbing my knuckles along her spine as I go.
She shivers and her fingers pause on the still-closed box. “You’re spoiling me.”
She’s left her hair loose tonight, her waves spilling down her back. I gather them in my fist and move the long, soft locks to one side so I can press my mouth to the bare skin of her neck before answering. “Yes. And you will accept all my gifts. Understand? It’s your birthday and I love you. Let me do this.”
She takes a deep breath and snaps open the lid, revealing the necklace. “Oh, Gavin…” She lifts it out of the velvet case and exhales. “It’s stunning. This is—”
I cut her off. “The only finish to that sentence I want to hear is beautiful. ‘Beautiful just like me,’ would also be acceptable.”
She smiles. “Fine. This is beautiful just like you.”
I laugh under my breath. “Brat.”
“Put it on me?”
“My pleasure.” Our fingers tangle more than necessary as I take the two ends of the strand from her. I will never tire of touching her, in big and little ways. It fits her perfectly, falling just below her collarbone, and I trace the entire length of it with my finger. “One more gift, Sprite.”
She gives me a little look. Yes, on this last gift, there will be no debate. Yes, Sir is the only answer I want to hear from her when asked if she understands why I’m giving it to her.
This box is deceptively small. She lifts the plain white cardboard lid and t
hen just stands there, stock-still.
I wait for a protest, but one doesn’t come.
“Ellie?” I turn her around so she’s facing me, but her head is still bent. She’s staring at the set of car keys nestled in the white cotton batting.
“Why?” she asks, her voice breathy and full of emotion.
“Because I want you to be able to go anywhere, anytime, and the fact that you can’t just hop on the bus anymore is all on me.” I gently lift her chin up so she can see my face and I can see hers. “Because I love you. And I want you to be safe and feel safe at all times.”
She blinks up at me, her eyes bright and shiny with unshed tears. “It’s too much.”
It’s not enough by a million miles. “It has tinted windows and Bluetooth everything. You can summon Lachlan at the push of the button.”
She frowns. “Did you get me the Batmobile?”
“Sadly, no.” It’s not even the fancy Lexus I wanted to get her. Sasha convinced Beth that I should go for something more mid-range.
“Is it made in Canada?”
God, this woman. I couldn’t love her any more than I already do. “Yes. First thing I thought of.”
She does this whole little processing thing in front of me as she nibbles on her lower lip and looks at me so intently I want to tell her it’s no big deal—but it is, for her, and for that reason, it is for me.
I want to take care of her on an epic scale. But she has to be okay with that, too.
When she smiles and twirls the keys around her index finger, I know I’ve done well. She throws her arms around my neck. “I love you,” she says in my ear, and those three little words make my heart explode. “Best birthday ever.”
“It’s only just begun.” I squeeze her against me. “I’m going to quickly jump in the shower, then we’ve got dinner reservations.”
“What time?”
“They’re expecting us at seven, but it’s a bit flexible.” I kiss her once more, then wave her back to the dressing table where I found her when I came in. “Finish getting ready.”
“I won’t take long. A bit of makeup and I should probably put on some underwear.”
I clear my throat. “No, that won’t be necessary.”
“Oh, come on…really? In public?”
I grab her hand and tug her back against my body. “Who said anything about going out in public?”
Once I shower and change into a fresh suit, we head downstairs. Ellie spends a bit of time getting to know her new compact SUV, which she’s already named Gladys, then I make her get into the back of my official town car.
“I can’t drive to my birthday dinner?”
“Sure you could. But I’ve requested a bottle of champagne be waiting for us on ice, so you’d have to leave Gladys behind at the end of the night.”
She gasps. “Oh, no!”
“Exactly.”
She settles into the crook of my arm and sighs happily. “So where are we going?”
I just smile at her. It won’t take long.
Lachlan turns left out of the gate and follows the street along the river until we reach our destination. Ellie does a double take. “The Aviation and Space Museum?”
I give her a broad grin and leap out. She waits for me to open her door, then winks at me to make sure I know she did that for me.
I offer her my arm and she rolls her eyes before sliding her fingers through mine, and that’s even better. Give and take. That’s the foundation of our relationship.
Hand in hand, we walk toward the door. I don’t know if she noticed that the parking lot was empty, but she definitely notices that we’re all alone when we step inside.
“What have you done?” she says quietly, her eyes big.
“This way.” I guide her past the airplane in the lobby and into the main exhibition hall, a massive space filled with aircraft from all points in modern history.
Her heels click on the floor and echo in the oversized space, but as we curve past the Avro 683 Lancaster X, the string quartet starts playing Strauss’s Emperor Waltz.
Ellie slows her steps as she sees the table for two set up in the middle of the exhibition hall, an ice bucket standing next to it with a bottle of champagne waiting for us. “Oh, Gavin.”
She turns in a circle, wonder painted all over her gorgeous face, and I want to take her right here. Against the side of a fighter jet. Claim her as mine, over and over again, surrounded by history.
I shove my hands in my pockets instead. “Happy birthday, Sprite.”
“This is crazy.” But she says it softly, in a good way, and when she twirls again faster this time, I catch her in my arms when she’s done and we start dancing.
It is not in my nature to dance, really. I know how, I make it look passable—it’s not that different from hockey, I suppose. But until this moment, I wouldn’t have said I had the romantic nature for it.
But holding Ellie close, moving my hips against hers as she holds my gaze, her lips parted and her eyes bright…I want to do this forever. She softens in my embrace, letting me lead with ease, and I spin us around and around slowly, my legs following the cue of the music. Wide step, pull her in tight. Turn. Hips together. And again, more because it feels good than anything to do with the music. Another step, another brush of her belly against my thickening erection. Fuck me. She sighs and I tighten my arms around her.
My Ellie. My Sprite.
“Shall we have a toast to your twenty-sixth birthday?” I ask as the song fades, my voice husky.
She nods and the musicians slide into another song, this one quieter. I pour us each a glass of sparkling wine as a waiter appears from around one of the dozens of airplanes surrounding us.
“Dinner will be served in a few minutes. Feel free to explore the gallery, or make yourselves comfortable.”
Ellie’s already heading for a helicopter. I grin as I follow, but while her eyes are on the Boeing Vertol in front of us, my eyes are on her ass. It’s the most spectacular view in the place.
Besides, I already had a personal tour of the collection from the museum director when I first moved to Ottawa. He’s an old family friend.
“You want to try out the flight simulators?” I ask as I stop right behind her.
She glances at me over her shoulder. “We can do that?”
Oh. Can we ever.
Dinner waits another thirty minutes for us, and when we finally sit at our table, we’re both a little silly. I’m so fucking proud of myself for nailing this birthday present.
Which makes it all the more disappointing when my phone rings halfway through our meal. Only one phone number is set to ring through right now, and I need to answer it. I kiss Ellie’s hand quickly and step away from the table.
“I’m terribly sorry,” Stew says, and he sounds it. Duty calls. “There’s been a bombing at the Embassy in Sudan. No fatalities yet, but—”
“I’ll be right there.” I turn back toward Ellie and she’s already walking toward me, her game face on. “Something’s come up,” I tell her, but I don’t need to. She knows, and she gets it, because she’s perfect.
“Of course. Tell me what would be most helpful—should I come with you?”
Ahead of us, Tim steps into view and gestures for us to follow him. My car is already waiting, but another one is fast approaching across the parking lot. I recognize the SUV that Ellie’s private bodyguards are using, and say a small thanks that Lachlan knows to both take care of her and make sure it’s not on the public dime.
“Don’t wait up for me,” I tell her as she squeezes my hand.
She shakes her head. “I won’t. But wake me up when you get back.”
I’m so blessed that she understands. And if I wake her up, it’ll be to give her one last birthday present. Maybe just belated by that point.
39
Ellie
It’s almost midnight, four hours after Gavin was whisked away. An hour after we were dancing like carefree lovers, he made a terse statement aga
inst violence and terrorism on the steps of the House of Commons.
Now I’m curled up in his bed, wearing one of his t-shirts, and I stare at the television screen in horror. I knew it must be something serious, but a series of bombs at a number of embassies of G7 nations…There’s been a deliberate, orchestrated terror attack. Hundreds of local Sudanese and dozens of international staff have been injured. There are fatalities, but not at the Canadian Embassy.
This is the first military strike of Gavin’s term, so he needs to make a strong statement, but he ran against the rabid lunacy of the previous government. This is a test. The entire country will be watching, judging, how he handles this—and measuring him against his NATO allies.
As an academic, my areas of interest lie within domestic politics, but as a citizen, my hopes and fears don’t stop at the border.
Dawn has broken now in Sudan. It will crack across the skies of the UK shortly, where the British Prime Minister will surely be calling for blood. And on the television screen in front of me, the Australian Prime Minister has just pledged ground forces if needed.
The French and the Russians are in. The Germans are so far the only ones calling for calm. I can only imagine the phone calls in and out of Washington right now, and as a brand new leader with little history with the US President, Gavin’s playing at a disadvantage.
I’m not going to sleep tonight.
I know that’s ridiculous. There’s nothing I can do. No chance he’ll be back, and I can’t go to him.
So I set up the coffee maker with a filter and freshly ground beans and water, just in case. I look in the fridge. He doesn’t have any leftovers, so I order a pizza.
Or at least, I try to order a pizza. I dial the number Lachlan gave Gavin—it’s also posted in the kitchen.
It seemed straightforward when Gavin did it, but he must have a magic code or something, because I get a runaround about how it’s not cool to prank order pizzas to 24 Sussex. I do my best to stay polite, and after explaining for the third time that yes, I’m actually calling from where I’m saying that I’m calling, and they could check with the guard house if they really don’t believe me, they take my order.
Prime Minister (Frisky Beavers #1) Page 25
