by Marie Force
“Damn, that’s such an incredible visual,” he said, as he took in the sight of her in the corset.
Watching him tug his bow tie free, she was reminded of how very different her second marriage was from her first. She turned off the water. “I don’t need a bath.” She walked over to him, pulled his shirt free of his pants and flattened her palms against his belly. “I need you. Only you.”
“You have me, my love. I’m all yours.”
Sam took his hand and led him to bed.
* * *
Much later, Nick held her in his arms as their bodies cooled after a frantic coupling left him astounded, as always, by the power of his love for her—and hers for him.
“Nick?”
“Hmm?”
“What were you doing with her?”
Confused, he said, “Who?”
“That awful woman Patrice.”
Laughing, he kissed Sam’s forehead. “Is she awful? I hadn’t noticed.”
She raised her head off his chest to look him in the eye. “Seriously?”
“I noticed.” He ran his fingers through his hair, which was damp with perspiration after the strenuous lovemaking. “After I met you and you didn’t call me back, I was kind of a mess for a while. She was...there. You know?”
“Hell, yes, I know. How do you think I ended up with Peter?”
“I can’t tell you how often I think about what might’ve been different for both of us if I’d gone after you, rather than accepting your silence as a verdict.”
“I wish the same thing. I couldn’t believe you didn’t call after that night. I simply couldn’t believe it. I should’ve called you. That I didn’t is my single greatest regret in life.”
“No sense having regrets, babe. Maybe we would’ve made an awful mess of it back then and not had what we have now.”
“We wouldn’t have made a mess of it. We were always meant to be together. I believe that.”
“So do I.” Her skin was warm and smooth under his hand as he caressed her back. “I knew it the first second I ever saw you. Ah, I thought. There she is.”
Sam propped her chin on her hand so she could see his face. “Did you really?”
Looking at her with his heart in his eyes, he nodded. “I recognized you in the crowd of people on that deck. I recognized you as mine.”
She turned her head, rested her cheek on his chest and was quiet for a long time. “What did you mean before about me being first lady?”
“I wondered if you’d remember that.”
“Kinda hard to forget that one.”
“Halliwell talked to me tonight about doing the keynote at the convention. He said the party is need of an heir apparent because Gooding isn’t interested in running again.” The current vice president had run twice before and was now in his mid-seventies.
“How do you feel about that?”
“I’m blown away. A year ago, I was John’s chief of staff, and now he’s dead, I’m running for his seat and the DNC is talking about me running for president in a few short years. It’s beyond comprehension.”
“Do you want that? To be president?”
“Shit, I don’t know,” he said laughing at the lunacy of it. “I can’t believe my name is being used in the same sentence as the word president.”
“You could do it. I know you could. I bet you’d win.”
Continuing to play with her hair, he brought a hank of it to his nose to inhale the scent that would remind him always of her. “You’re very good for my ego, babe.”
“What did you tell Halliwell?”
“I said I’d do the keynote, but I want to wait until after November to talk about anything else. I need to win this election before we start contemplating my future.”
“You’re going to win.”
The nervous tenor of her tone wasn’t lost on him. “I’ve already won, Samantha.” He tightened his hold on her. “I have everything any man could ever want. We’ll decide together what the future holds, whatever that may be. If it’s not something we both want, end of conversation.”
“You can’t walk away from an opportunity like this because it might not be something I want you to do.”
“Sure I can. One of these days, I hope to succeed in convincing you that you are what really matters to me. Everything else is secondary.”
“You’re crazy.”
“About you. Now go to sleep. You’re so far beyond exhausted it’s not even funny.” He continued to comb his fingers through her hair and caress her back until he was almost certain she was asleep.
“Nick?”
“I thought you were asleep.”
“Almost.”
“What, baby?”
“I forgot to tell you I love you.”
“I love you too.”
She released a long, deep breath, and this time he was certain she’d fallen asleep.
Chapter Fifteen
Running on caffeine and adrenaline and fear and shame, Jeannie McBride threw herself into work to take her mind off what had happened earlier. Every time she thought about Sam saying she was disappointed, her heart broke all over again. That was the last thing in the world she ever wanted to hear from her beloved lieutenant.
Though she’d asked Will to come over to work on the report in the morning, Jeannie had finished it two hours ago. She’d detailed every step they’d taken in their new investigation of the Fitzgerald case and had included a list of people who should’ve been interviewed the first time around and hadn’t been for reasons known only to Skip Holland.
In the morning, she planned to wait for Will to arrive and then venture to the Annapolis home of Dr. Norman Morganthau, the retired medical examiner she’d called about the Fitzgerald case. Jeannie had sensed back in April that the older man had wanted to tell her something about Skip Holland but had held back in deference to his old friend. Maybe if they went to see him in person, he’d be more forthcoming.
She needed to do something to avoid sitting around for the next week rehashing what’d happened. Since Michael was long asleep and she’d done everything she could for the night on the Fitzgerald case, she turned next to one of the leads she’d wanted to look into further with the Kavanaugh case.
It had occurred to her that there might be some connections between the two names used to fake Victoria Kavanaugh’s identity. Jeannie took to the Internet to read everything she could find about Denise Desposito and William Eldridge.
An hour later, she had tied Desposito to a Medicare scheme the feds had busted almost ten years earlier in Ohio.
Typing frantically, Jeannie recorded the details of the phony doctor’s office, documenting how the scheme had worked and the role Desposito had played in defrauding the government of millions. What they hadn’t known was that the government was on to them from almost the beginning and had built a solid case against the perpetrators before their arrests.
Jeannie made a list of the other people arrested and spent another hour tracking down where they were incarcerated. Maybe one of them would have an idea of how Desposito had come to be tied to Victoria Kavanaugh.
The only William Eldridge she could find was a former officer in the Patterson Financial Group in Ohio, but there was nothing more about him on file. It wasn’t much, Jeannie decided, but it was something—and she hoped it would help to restore her standing with the lieutenant.
“What’re you doing up, baby?”
Even all these months later, Jeannie’s first impulse was to jump and move away when his hands landed on her shoulders to knead her tight muscles. Breathing in and letting it out, she reminded herself that this man loved her. This man would never hurt her. This man was nothing like the man who’d beaten and raped her.
“I’m sorry I startled you,” Michael said, attuned as always to her fears.
“That’s okay. What time is it?”
“Almost three. Why are you down here and not in bed with me?”
“Couldn’t sleep. Too much on my mind. I
did some work, and that helped.”
“Do you think you might be able to sleep for a bit now?”
Jeannie didn’t think so, but she said what he wanted to hear. “I could try.”
Michael held out a hand, helped her up and shut off the desk light. He linked their fingers and led her through the dark house to their bedroom upstairs. Standing by the bed, he turned to face her. He drew the T-shirt over her head and helped her out of the shorts.
Then she returned the favor, pushing the boxers he’d put on to go find her over his hips. He was tall and muscular, his dark brown skin smooth and soft. Everything about him appealed to her.
It had taken a long time after the attack for her to feel comfortable with his touch, to slide naked into bed with him the way she had before, as if it were no big deal. Now they were nearly back to where they’d been. At times, though, she was still skittish, and the memories returned occasionally in dreams that were so real and vivid that for days afterward, she was forced to relive the nightmare all over again.
Soon she’d be forced to face Mitchell Sanborn in a courtroom and recount publicly what he’d done to her. Jeannie shuddered at the thought of it.
“What’re you thinking about?”
“The trial.”
“Aw, Jeannie.” He pulled her into his embrace. “Why’re you thinking about that now?”
“Because it won’t really be over until that’s behind me. The thought of having to see him again, to have to look at his face... I don’t know if I can do it, Michael.”
“Of course you can. If it means he gets put away for life for what he did to you, then you can do it.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“My poor baby has so much on her mind.”
She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I’m sorry to dump all my troubles on you.”
“Where else would you dump them?” He arranged her so she was resting on top of him and continued to knead the tension from her shoulders. “I was thinking about this situation with Sam.”
“What about it?”
“I know you’re very upset because you think you disappointed her.”
“I did disappoint her. I lied to her.”
“You did it with her best interest at heart. When she has time to think about it some more, she’ll see that—as your friend. As your lieutenant, she had no choice but to suspend you. Sam is wise enough to be able to separate the two parts of this equation.”
“Maybe.”
“I want you to remember you’ve survived so much worse than this, and you’ll survive this too. It’s a momentary setback in the grand scheme of things.”
“You’re right.”
“I am?”
Smiling, Jeannie leaned in to kiss him. “Don’t sound so surprised. I don’t mind letting you be right once in a while. As long as it doesn’t happen too often.”
“Is that so?” In one smooth move, he turned them so he was on top of her.
Jeannie didn’t want to recoil from the sensation of being surrounded, but the instinct was involuntary.
“Just me, baby. Just me.”
His voice calmed and soothed her as did his lips when he claimed her mouth.
She clutched his shoulders and worked her legs apart, letting him know what she wanted. Only he could make it all go away. Only he could make her forget that another man had once hurt her. “Love me, Michael.”
“I do, baby. You know I do.” He entered her in slow thrusts that made her blood boil and her breath catch in her throat. Lowering his head, he laved her nipple and rolled it between his teeth, making her cry out from the overwhelming need.
Arching her back, she sought to take him deeper, but he wouldn’t be rushed.
“Slow and easy,” he said. “Nice and slow.”
Jeannie thought she’d go mad waiting for him to pick up the pace, but he took his own sweet time, making her come twice with his fingers before he thrust fully inside her, taking her over a third time and letting himself go too.
She held him for a long time afterward, his body so alive and vital on top of her. Only he could’ve made her forget her litany of troubles, even for a short time. “Michael?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you still have that ring you showed me a while ago?”
He stiffened and raised his head to meet her gaze. “Yes.”
She knew he’d waited months to hear her say she was ready to wear the ring he’d planned to give her the weekend after she was attacked. “Where is it?”
“In a safe place.”
“Could you possibly get it?”
“Any particular reason?”
“Maybe.”
He studied her face and then kissed her, withdrew from her and got up.
Jeannie got an excellent view of his ass as he stalked out of the room on long legs, a man on a mission.
He returned a minute later, ring box in hand.
“Could I see it again? I’ve forgotten what it looks like.”
“Now that’s a bald-faced lie. You memorized every detail the first time I showed it to you.”
“Okay, so I lie. I still want to see it again.”
Michael sat next to her on the bed and opened the box. The bedside table lamp sent a warm glow over the room as the ring sparkled, a fiery presence in the dark velvet nest.
As it had the first time, the sight of the ring he’d chosen with her mother’s input took her breath away. She looked up to find him watching her intently, as if trying to gauge the import of this moment. To his credit, he didn’t say anything. He didn’t push or prod her. He’d been the picture of patience and fortitude during the bleakest days of her life. And she loved him. She would always love him. Of that much she was certain.
“Would it be possible for me to wear it now?” she asked tentatively.
“If that’s what you want.”
Jeannie bit her bottom lip and nodded, determined not to cry.
He surprised her when he slid off the bed and knelt on the floor, taking her hand and bending his head to kiss the back of it. For a long moment, he stayed like that, bent over her hand, until Jeannie realized he was weeping.
She curled her hand around his head. “Michael.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I wondered for so long if we’d ever get back to where we were. Before. And now... I’m sorry,” he said, releasing a deep, shuddering breath, and wiped his face with his free hand. “You took me by surprise. That’s all.”
“You’ve been so patient and so wonderful, and I love you so much for that—more than you could ever know. You’ve been exactly what I needed, what I’ll always need.” She reached out to him.
He pushed up from the floor and into her arms, holding her so tightly she could barely breathe. He’d done that so rarely since the attack, always fearful of a setback.
“Jeannie, my sweet Jeannie. I love you so much. I love your courage and your strength and your determination. I love your beauty and your sweetness. Will you make me so happy and marry me? Will you spend forever with me?”
“Yes, Michael, I’d be honored to marry you.”
And then he was kissing her and crying with her and making love with her all over again, and for the first time since the attack, he didn’t hold back. He gave her everything he had, all the love and passion that had driven them from the beginning, with no thoughts of the horrors or pain of the past.
Jeannie gave back to him in equal measure until they were straining toward a release that left her shattered and sobbing out her love for him. Their bodies were still trembling and rippling with aftereffects when he slipped the ring on the third finger of her left hand, curling his hand around hers as if to cement their bond.
“I’m sorry I made you wait so long for me,” she said.
“It was certainly no sacrifice. Being with you is the best thing to ever happen to me.”
Jeannie held up her hand so they could see how the ring looked.
“Exactly as I pictured it,” he s
aid.
“Better than I could’ve imagined. Thank you, Michael. Thank you.”
He pulled her closer to him, pillowing her head on his chest and running his hands over her back, letting her know she was safe and she was loved. She had everything she needed. The situation with Sam would right itself. Eventually. And she would face Mitchell Sanborn in the courtroom and ensure he never had the chance to do to another woman what he’d done to her.
Surrounded by Michael’s love, Jeannie felt like there was nothing she couldn’t handle. He was right. She’d already been through the fire and survived. She would continue to survive because she refused to consider the alternative.
Breathing in Michael’s familiar, comforting scent, she was able to sleep.
* * *
Sam would’ve slept through the alarm—again—if Nick hadn’t kissed her awake—again. “Why do you hear it, but I don’t?” she muttered, keeping her eyes closed to enjoy the slide of his lips over her back. Her face throbbed like a bastard, making her yearn for another pain pill that she wouldn’t take with a full day of work ahead of her and no more time to waste in finding a killer.
“Because you know I’ll hear it and wake you up, so you’re not listening for it.”
“I used to get myself out of bed without anyone’s assistance.” That came out grumpier than she’d intended, but it seemed like she never got enough sleep these days.
“Isn’t it nice that now you don’t have to?” He was endlessly cheerful in the morning, which she found endlessly annoying.
“It’s very nice. Too nice. It makes me forget all about the fact that I need to get to work.”
“We’ll have another day off together soon,” he assured her.
“When?”
“If you can catch Victoria’s killer by Sunday, I’m off. I have a rally on Saturday, but I told them to leave me free on Sunday—in case.”
“In case of what?”
“In case I could score a day off with my wife before we pick up Scotty Sunday night. I think we need a full day to loll about in bed to get it out of our systems before he gets here.”
She raised a brow and opened her eyes to look at him. “You think one day will get it out of our systems?”
