Smith, Faith V. - Presidential Heat [Vampire Government Protectors] (BookStrand Publishing Romance)

by Faith V. Smith

  Back to square one. He agreed with Malachi. Did he have the right, just because he loved her and because he could, to order her to quit? No, he didn’t, but scratch a cat if he knew how he was going to fix this and live with the terror icing his veins whenever he thought about what could happen. Regardless, he would talk to Kira tonight. Just maybe, he could convince her to get married for real.

  * * * *

  Kira pulled on a pair of nylons, crammed her feet into a new pair of Jimmy Choos—this time, five-inch gladiator sandals—before pulling the sleek satin sheath over her head. Crimson red matched her mood. She despised Gareth’s caveman attitude, but she’d tried to see it from his point of view. It still didn’t gel for her.

  However, she couldn’t fault the man for worrying some about her well-being. He had no idea she was a vampire, so he would continue to go on thinking she was a frail—yeah, right—mortal woman. At least until she got the courage up to tell him the truth.

  A quick smear of lipstick to match her dress, a couple of silver bangles on her wrists next to a more elegant watch than she normally wore, a quick flip to pull her hair up and anchor it on top of her head with a matching clip, and Kira stepped back. She might not be cover-model material, but she washed up pretty good, if she did say so herself.

  A good thing too, she needed every bit of courage she could bolster for tonight’s dinner. England’s prime minister and his wife were the guests of honor, and although she’d toured England with her dad years ago, she sucked at making small talk. Hopefully, she could just nod and smile. Now, another quandary, should she or should she not wear the matching jacket? She really hated having her arms restricted unless they were encased inside leather.

  A quick rap on the door of the guest room in the PQ caused her to jump just a bit. Lord, she needed to get her nerves under control. It was going to be a long evening. Not to mention the next few days were going to be fraught with media hounds, more fittings, and finalizing the last of the wedding plans.

  “Come in.”

  “Evening, Kira.” Gareth’s sexy baritone turned her knees into mushmelons and heated her blood.

  “Evening, Mr. President.” She deliberately kept her tone on the icy and aloof side.

  Gareth moved further into the room. The previously renovated Queens’ Bedroom was huge, but it seemed to shrink with his overwhelming male presence.

  A coal-black tuxedo jacket pulled tight across his shoulders. Matching pants cupped his thighs and emphasized the masculinity she’d craved before and even now. The almost blinding white dress shirt showcased the tanned column of skin above the collar, and the dark green tie he wore highlighted the vibrancy of his green gaze. His blond hair touched the back of the tuxedo coat, almost as if thumbing its nose at the formal attire.

  Lord, how she’d love to strip off the trappings of his office and toss him butt-naked on the bed. Get a grip, girl. You’re mad at him. Remember that!

  “Please, can’t we talk? I don’t want to fight. And I hate it when you call me Mr. President in that snooty tone.”

  Well, what did he expect? He’d been just as formal at the press conference. The only time his demeanor thawed from glacial proportions to something resembling warmth was when he talked about how much he was looking forward to welcoming the prime minister.

  Of course, it could be he wanted to keep their wedding on a more professional level for the press, but it bit big-time. She didn’t expect him to fawn all over her, not after his compliance to a bogus minister, but damn, she missed the laughter they shared, the sizzling looks when his gaze would light on her, and she missed their talks.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just with everything going on and the wedding coming up so fast, I feel like I’m going crazy. I’m not used to this, Gareth.”

  His approach, closer to where she was standing, resembled a veterinarian with a skittish animal.

  “Look, I just want some peace between us. I’d like to discuss a compromise.”

  “What type of compromise? So far, you’ve been wanting me to do all the giving.”

  Gareth reached out his hand. “I know. I’m sorry. Just give me a few minutes tonight after the dinner. Please?”

  Kira didn’t know if she wanted to cry or kick something. It was so unfair of him to come to her like this. She’d told him she loved him. Now, although he may not realize it, he was using her love to make her feel guilty if she didn’t talk things out.

  “Fine, but not here, we’ll do it in a professional setting. The Oval Office works for me. What about you?”

  His expectant gaze looked crestfallen. The green of his eyes dimmed a bit, but she hardened her heart. She couldn’t afford to throw herself into his arms and tell him she would do anything he wanted. Kira’s family’s legacy of being Vampire Government Protectors meant the world to her. She would not give it up lightly—no, not even for love. Callous, maybe, but she just couldn’t do it. There had to be a way to have Gareth and her job.

  “Okay. Now, I think we best get downstairs before Malachi sends out a search party.”

  Kira allowed herself to take the arm Gareth offered, but resisted the compelling urge to stroke his tuxedo-clad sleeve. She was so totally in trouble.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A few moments later, they stood at the top of the Grand Staircase. The Marine Band began the first strains of “Hail To The Chief.” Gareth squeezed her hand lightly before starting down the stairs.

  Kira cast a quick glimpse around. Not as many people as she would have expected stood at the bottom of the stairway. She recognized a few plainclothes agents mingling in with a few dignitaries. The entire State Floor looked bright as day. The chandeliers positively glowed with iridescent crystal drops, enhancing the evening wear of the guests.

  The colors were a collage of raven black, froufrou pastels, and a few deeper jewel tones for the ladies. The men were all decked out as Gareth, but none of them, with the exception of Malachi, did justice to their tuxedoes like Gareth did. Wow, being a part of pomp and circumstance wasn’t her strong point, but there was something compelling about gliding downward with the beat of the music. For the first time, Kira allowed herself to think about what being the First Lady meant—even in make-believe.

  The responsibilities were awesome and a bit daunting. Even for the few months she would pretend to be Mrs. Gareth Hayes, she would have to make decisions that could change people’s lives. It was more than daunting. Downright frightening described it better.

  No way could she do this.

  She felt the pressure of Gareth’s hand over hers. His smile, which could or not be for the sake of the prime minister and his wife, gave her back a bit of courage. She straightened her shoulders even more, lifted her chin slightly, and then smiled at Gareth before beaming a smile at their guests.

  Once they and the prime minister and his wife were seated, the other guests also took their seats. Malachi seated himself about halfway down the table.

  Kira took her cue from Gareth, who smiled and nodded at the other guests before turning to Prime Minister Babcock. “Leland, it’s a honor to have you here. I’m hoping we can fit in some fun during your stay.”

  “My idea exactly, Gareth. Maybe we could adjourn to the library after dinner and discuss this more.”

  Evelyn Babcock leaned closer to Kira. “My dear, in case you don’t know, that’s my husband’s code for wanting to play poker. The last time he and Gareth got together, Gareth pretty much cleaned him out. I think that’s how you’d say it.”

  Kira liked the auburn-haired woman. Her blue eyes glinted with merriment. Maybe this dinner wouldn’t be a disaster after all.

  “That’s one way, Mrs. Babcock. There are a couple of others you might like.”

  “Call me Eve, and if you don’t mind, I’ll call you Kira. What a lovely name.”

  “Thank you. As the only girl with a slew of brothers, my mom wanted something that couldn’t be slightly associated with the male population.”

  “Your mot
her sounds like a lady I’d like to meet.”

  Kira waited a moment to respond as the serving staff placed bowls of chilled leek soup in front of them. The gold-rimmed edges on the china looked suspiciously like the real thing. Lord, she hoped she didn’t break anything.

  “I believe my mom would like you too, Eve. You both have several things in common.” She took a sip of red wine from a crystal goblet. Another item she would have to be careful with, when she picked it up. No telling how many paychecks one glass would cost.

  “What would those be, my dear?”

  “Well, you both married strong-minded men, and you both have a sense of humor.”

  Eve laughed outright, causing some of the guests, as well as Gareth, the prime minister, and Malachi, to glance their way. Gareth carried a slight crease between his brows, the PM looked quizzical, and Malachi positively beamed.

  Okay, maybe she hadn’t committed a faux pas. So jubilant over that bit of discovery, Kira wanted to laugh too. Instead, she ignored the men and smiled at Eve.

  “My dear, if I’m not mistaken, you’re going to be a carbon copy of both your mother and myself one of these days. Just don’t let your handsome Yank boss you around too much. Men”—Eve leaned closer—“can positively be idiots when left unsupervised.”

  The sip of wine Kira swallowed almost went down the wrong way. If all the dignitaries she met were like Eve, then it would be a piece of pecan pie. But then, she would only be doing this job for a few months, and then she was out.

  Sorrow rocked her to the soles of her feet. Life without Gareth would not be much of a life.

  “Are you all right, Kira? You’re a bit pale.”

  She didn’t know what to say and rejoiced when the waiter removed her untouched bowl of soup and placed a salad in front of her.

  “Yes, I’m fine. It’s probably just everything that’s gone on in the last few days and the upcoming ceremony.”

  “You should rest as much as you can. What you did to save Gareth made the world news, and you need more time to recover.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Kira smiled back at Eve, picked up her fork, and prepared to dig into the crispy salad greens. Before she could get the first succulent mouthful to her lips, a waiter stopped by her seat.

  “Agent Jackson, I hate to disturb you, but one of the agents asked me to give you this note. He said it could be important.”

  “Thank you. I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

  “Mike, ma’am.”

  “My thanks, Mike.” She accepted the folded paper he offered. Only after he retreated back to the kitchen did she open the note.

  I know who’s trying to kill the president, but you must meet with me alone and do it now. Time’s running out. I don’t know how long I have before they discover I’ve betrayed their confidence. I’ll be in the library on the ground floor until eight forty-five.

  Kira folded the letter, making sure her hands were steady and her actions would not convey the adrenalin running through her body. She slid the missive into her jacket sleeve. Good thing she decided to wear the jacket after all. It would be a bit too obvious if she tucked it inside her bra.

  A quick glance at her watch showed the time to be eight thirty. Soon, they would be serving the main course. She needed to make a move now. Whoever the note writer might be, he would not wait much past the appointed time—not if he indeed feared for his life.

  As much as she hated falling back on a feminine excuse, she went for the tried and true, and she leaned closer to Eve. “I’m not sure if I’m committing a sin of protocol or not, but I really need to run out for a minute.”

  Eve hid a laugh behind her napkin. “Go. I’ll be fine. Take care of whatever you need to. If Gareth asks, should I tell him you’ve gone to the ladies’ room?”

  Kira must have looked a bit shocked.

  “My dear, trust me. I’ll just say you needed a moment to freshen your makeup or something.”

  “Thanks, Eve. I shouldn’t be gone long.”

  She hazarded a glance toward Gareth and Malachi. Both men were occupied with speaking to their tablemates. Just maybe she could get out and back before anyone missed her.

  She slid her chair back, waved off the approaching waiter, and turned as quietly as possible to exit the dining room. A regular mortal Secret Service agent moved to her side.

  “Hi, Danny, just gonna run to the ladies’ room.”

  The agent had the audacity to smirk. “Well, I thought you were beyond the rest of us agents. Never figured you’d to have to do such mundane things.”

  “Can it, before I hurt you. Listen, if anyone asks about me, tell them I will be right back, okay?”

  “Kira, what are you up to? You know we’ve been ordered by Malachi, at the risk of death, I might add, to make sure you’re guarded at all times.”

  “Well, frick-frack the old goat. I thought that wasn’t going to happen until after the ceremony.”

  “Not the word we got, sugar. We’re supposed to be on you like a duck on a June bug.”

  Kira wondered if she could get Danny to cave. If he followed her to the bathroom, then she’d never get downstairs in time to meet with the man. She knew it was probably lunacy to not alert the staff, but she was a vampire, for pity’s sake. No way would she give the guy a chance to do more than tell her what she needed to know, and she would politely escort him to another agent so he could be questioned further.

  “Okay, fine, come with me, but I just don’t know what Vickie would say if you followed me into the ladies’ room.”

  Whatever he was thinking about his wife caused the agent to lose a bit of color in his face. “Okay, you win, I’ll just stand guard right outside the door.”

  “Great, come on. I need to go now.”

  Danny’s face turned an interesting shade of red, and she bit back a big chunk of laughter wanting to escape. The closest facility came into view, and she scooted through the door in the guise of a woman on a mission. She was—just not on a bathroom break. Okay, she needed to dissolve and materialize outside the library. She prayed no one would see her reappearing act.

  Her body turned in on itself as bones, muscles, and organs, transformed into mist. A second later, she rematerialized outside the library door. She closed her eyes, inhaled, and found no sign of anyone inside. A quick glance at her watch showed one minute until the deadline. Whoever it was probably stood watching her, but she couldn’t feel him or her.

  Kira had only been gone a few minutes from the dinner, but she would need to hurry if she planned on getting this done before Malachi or Gareth missed her. It would be her bad luck to have both men go ballistic.

  She gently turned the knob, pushed the door open, and stepped inside. Once she closed the door, she inhaled again. Crossing the floor to an oval table, she looked to see if her missed appointment had left another note. Zilch. Well, the letter could have been a ruse, but for what reason? Gareth! Of all the stupid things she could do, leaving his side took the cake.

  Kira spun on her heel and stopped short. A man—no, wait, a vampire—stood in front of her. Why hadn’t she smelled his scent? What was he doing here? A better question would be, what was she going to do about it?

  “Who are you?”

  “Darling, Kira, you don’t know me, so there’s no point in giving my name. I’m here because someone paid me to do so. I personally don’t like the idea of hurting one of my own kind, but money’s money, darling.”

  The suit-clothed vamp smiled, his fangs proudly on display. Crap. If he got in here, he could get to Gareth. She had to stop him. She’d left her gun in that stupid purse back in the dining room it. She should have brought it with her. It probably wouldn’t kill him but might slow him down.

  “I suppose you sent the letter, and I also suppose you aren’t going to tell me who wants Gareth dead.”

  “How right you are.”

  “So what do you want?”

  “I told you.” The vampire withdrew a knife from his jacket pocke
t. “I’m here to do a job. You’re a nuisance someone wants gone, so…what’s a vamp to do?”

  Kira kick-started her frozen brain. “Well, I’ll tell you what this vamp’s going to do. I’m going to kick your ass.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” The vampire, who stood as if he had no care in the world, opened his left palm, pressed a button, and a dart hit Kira right in the chest.

  Her legs crumbled beneath her. Her arms felt like leaden weights. If she could have used her tongue, which seemed to be cardboard, she would have cursed. Instead, she lay there on the hardwood floor, an area rug the only pillow for the back of her head.

  The vampire advanced, and Kira lay there helpless. He knelt at her side, placed her limp arms across her chest, and tilted her head back. Then, with one swipe of a serrated blade, he cut her throat.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Gareth listened with half his attention as Leland talked about hunting quail in England. Kira had been gone a good ten minutes. Eve had passed on her reason for leaving, but he wasn’t buying it. Yes, she looked like a sexy wet dream in the red dress she’d worn, and yes, the high-heeled sandals with matching toenail polish made him want to play This Little Piggy and the Big Bad Wolf, but he would never believe she left to fix her makeup.

  The itch he usually got when trouble was around, and one that had been missing lately, was back, slithering up and down his vertebrae, warning him something wasn’t right. He continued to smile at Leland’s remarks and, as inconspicuously as possible, looked down the long table toward Malachi.

  As luck would have it, Malachi looked his way at the same time. His gaze troubled, he motioned to Kira’s empty chair. Gareth nodded back. He should have known Malachi would notice Kira was gone, but where had she gone?

  As he watched, the vamp took out his cell phone, tapped in a number, and placed it to his ear. A moment later, he stood up, rounded the table, bent down, and whispered to Gareth, “Kira’s disappeared.”

  Gareth forced himself not to jump up from his seat. No need to alarm the guests. Maybe she’d gotten cold feet about the dinner? No. She and Eve looked as if they were getting alone fine. Could she have gotten sick? It had only been a few days since she was stabbed. What was he thinking? He should never have put the pressure of this dinner on her.