Banning's Woman

by Ruth Langan

  “I would hope that everyone would remain calm until all the facts are in. We have our own Internal Affairs investigating this incident.”

  “There seems to be a great deal of skepticism about the integrity of such an investigation. How do you calm the fears of the citizens of Washington?”

  As the camera closed in on his face, Bren could see the muscle of his jaw working. “That won’t be an easy task, especially with the media, and now a congressional committee, all stirring the pot and vying for airtime.”

  “Are you suggesting that the members of our Congress are doing this for publicity?”

  “Of course not. At least, not all of them. But there are always those few people who take up the latest cause, hoping for their fifteen minutes of fame. But I’m confident that the public will withhold judgment until all the facts are in.”

  As the news segment ended, Bren closed her eyes. After that veiled attack on their integrity, her committee members would be even more thirsty for blood.

  Her headache was now a full-blown migraine. She gulped a couple of pills before snatching up her attaché case. The work of Congress couldn’t be put off because of a little pain.

  But as she worked her way through a day filled with paperwork, committee meetings and endless speeches on the floor of the House, she found herself questioning the wisdom of her choice of career.

  By the time she was able to return to her office, her staff had left for the day. She found stacked neatly on her desk more than a dozen messages. As she flipped through them, one name and number had her going very still.

  Without giving herself time to think, she picked up the phone and dialed the number.

  “Captain Banning.”

  At the sound of his voice, Bren found herself smiling for the first time in hours. “Good evening, Captain. I have a message to call you as soon as possible.”

  “Bren.” He sat back in his chair. “I was just cleaning up some paperwork. Are you heading back to your apartment now?”

  “Yeah.” She glanced at the file folders littering her desktop. “The sooner the better.”

  “Good. Why don’t I meet you there?”

  She was already shaking her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Chris. It’s been a long day.”

  “All the more reason to let me come over. I’ll feed you.”

  “Food.” She let out a long, slow sigh. “How soon can you be there?”

  He laughed. “I’m on my way.”

  She set down the receiver and started shoving paperwork into her attaché case. Half an hour later, as she was pulling into a parking slot of her garage, she saw Chris standing by the elevator. Just seeing him had her heart feeling lighter than it had all day.

  “Good evening, Congresswoman.” He stood aside as she stepped into the elevator.

  She glanced at the huge cardboard box in his hands. “Pizza?”

  “You bet. Tony makes the finest.”

  “You wouldn’t mind giving me a sample on the way up, would you?”

  “Not a chance.” At her floor he followed her out of the elevator and started along the hall. “First you’re getting out of that proper business uniform and into something more suitable for pizza and beer.”

  She touched a hand to her heart. “Pizza and beer. Who’d have believed such words could make my poor heart flutter?”

  Laughing, she fished the key out of her pocket and opened the door of her apartment. Chris followed her inside and headed straight toward the small kitchen. By the time she’d changed into casual knit slacks and a matching top in lemon yellow, the room was filled with the fragrance of Italian spices. The table was set for two, and two frosty mugs of beer sat side by side on the countertop.

  “Oh, Chris.” Bren picked up a mug and drank. “This was worth coming home to.”

  “So is the sight of you.” He gave her a long, appraising look, from the bare toes peeking out beneath the cuffs of her slacks, to the cap of red curls that looked pleasantly disheveled. Then he picked up a mug of beer and touched the rim to hers. “Here’s to unwinding after a long day at the office.”

  “Umm.” She sipped, then turned toward the pizza. “Can we eat now? Or are you going to torture me by making me wait?”

  “We’ll eat.” He set out two salads and a basket of breadsticks, then carried the steaming pizza to the table.

  As Bren set to work on the food, he watched with a growing smile. “Tell me something. If I hadn’t come along to feed you tonight, what would you be eating right now?”

  She thought a minute. “I have a couple of frozen dinners in the freezer. When I’m really desperate, I’ll heat one up. But usually I just have tea and toast with peanut butter.”

  He was shaking his head. “If the voters heard that, what would they think?”

  She laughed. “I’m sure they’d be really disappointed. They probably think that everyone who works in Washington goes to banquets and black-tie events every night in the week.”

  He set a second slice of pizza on her plate before helping himself to another. “Speaking of black-tie events, there’s a police charity event coming up this weekend. I was hoping you’d go with me.”

  She looked up. “You want me to go to a police event?”

  He nodded.

  “I don’t think that would be wise, Chris.”

  “Because you think it’s a conflict of interest?”

  She shook her head. “Because I’d feel as welcome as an ant at a picnic.”

  He laughed. “Hey. Ants have to eat, too.”

  “If they live long enough. Sometimes they get squashed.”

  “Nobody’s going to squash you, Congresswoman.” He closed a hand over hers, sending a flood of heat along her arm. “I’ll be right beside you the entire evening.”

  “Great.” She pulled her hand away. “You’ll protect me and ruin your own reputation in the process.”

  “Is that why you’re refusing? To spare my reputation?”

  She studied him across the table. “Chris, in case you haven’t noticed, my committee is investigating your officers. And there isn’t a single member of the force who isn’t aware of that fact by now. I’m sure they’d make their feelings abundantly clear, not only to me, but to you, as well. They wouldn’t be too happy with the man who brought an enemy into their camp.”

  He leaned back. “You see what’s happening here? A line’s being drawn in the sand. Instead of working together to root out the problems that are giving cops a bad name, we’re taking sides. The public is beginning to think all cops are corrupt. And the force itself is closing ranks, trying to pretend that there are no problems at all, except in the minds of some politicians.”

  “I wish you had said that today on the news, instead of suggesting that this whole thing had been invented by someone looking for his fifteen minutes of fame.”

  “I said a whole lot more. But the only thing that sticks in your mind is that one phrase.” He grinned. “It seems to me we’ve gone down this road before.”

  Bren flushed. “Sorry. I ought to know better than anyone how our words can be twisted when taken out of context.” She sat back, leaving her third piece of pizza half-eaten. “I surrender. If I eat one more bite, I’ll explode.”

  “How about some coffee?”

  She started to get up, but Chris touched a hand to her shoulder and crossed to the counter, filling two cups.

  Bren sipped, then sighed. “You’re spoiling me, you know.”

  “Good. That’s my intention.”

  She looked over at him. “You do realize that your remarks on television today gained you a few enemies. My colleagues will be gunning for you.”

  “The way mine are gunning for you?” He surprised her by setting down his empty cup and reaching for her hand. “Come on.”

  “Where?”

  “To that sofa in the other room.”

  “Why?”

  “I can see that you’re not ready to give up this debate just yet. And as long as
we’re going to debate issues, we should at least do it where we can be comfortable.”

  As Bren sank down on one end of the sofa, she watched Chris kick off his shoes before sitting down on the other end and stretching out his long legs in front of him.

  “Why don’t you go first, Congresswoman.”

  She grinned. “You’re trying to soften me up. First that food, and now a comfortable place to sit. But this is serious business, Chris. Your department can’t stick its head in the sand and keep pretending there isn’t a problem within its ranks. Innocent citizens have been killed.”

  He nodded. “And all the evidence points to a rogue cop. Or maybe a couple of them. The latest autopsy is in.”

  Bren sat up straighter. “What did it prove?”

  “That the bullet came, not from a police-issue gun, but from a gun that was supposedly in the police property room.”

  “Oh, Chris.” She wasn’t even aware that she’d brought her fingers to her temples to rub at the tension building there. “You see, that just proves what I…” She swallowed back the rest of whatever she’d been about to say as he slid closer and turned her slightly before lifting his hands to her temples.

  “What are you…?”

  “Shh.” He began to massage gently. “I can see that you need this.”

  “I don’t need—”

  “Quiet, Congresswoman. I told you. I do my best debating while I’m rubbing my op ponent’s back, or feet, or…other parts of the anatomy.”

  “I suggest you keep your hands on my head at the moment, Captain.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” But as he continued his gentle massage, he could feel her beginning to relax. “There, now, doesn’t that feel better?”

  “Mmm. Much.”

  He brought his mouth to her ear. “Now about that autopsy.”

  She shivered as his warm breath tickled. “What autopsy?”

  He laughed, sending a series of tremors along her spine. “Now, this is what I call a serious debate.”

  “Not fair.” She turned to face him, but he surprised her by lifting her feet to his lap.

  As he began rubbing she burst into a spasm of giggles. “Stop. Chris. That tickles.”

  “Just relax. I’m an expert at this.”

  She closed her eyes as he continued his gentle ministrations until she found herself actually beginning to relax and drift on a cloud of contentment. He had the most amazing hands. With each stroke she found herself sinking deeper and deeper.

  “Now, Congresswoman, if there’s any point you’d care to make, you have my complete attention.”

  “You don’t play fair.” She opened her eyes and found him studying her with a wolfish look that had her heart racing. “You know I can’t think when you’re rubbing my feet.”

  “All part of my devious plan. So, do you concede this round to me?”

  “Maybe.” She couldn’t help sighing just a little. “Next time I’ll just have to figure out how to take advantage of you the same way, so the playing field is level.”

  “You want to know how to take advantage, Bren?” He released her feet and slid closer. “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

  “I’m not doing anything except arguing with you.”

  “That’s just it.” He framed her face with his big hands. “I love your quick mind, and your tart tongue, and those wise turquoise eyes. In fact, Congresswoman, I think everything about you is sexy as hell.” His look was practically devouring her. “And if I don’t get out of here right this minute, I just might forget my manners and seduce you.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose before getting to his feet and heading for the door.

  She struggled off the sofa and followed him. As he started out the door she called, “Will I see you tomorrow?”

  He paused a moment, as though waging a battle within himself. Then on a moan he turned back and dragged her into his arms.

  It wasn’t the kiss that startled her; it was the barely controlled passion. Just moments earlier he’d been laughing with her, teasing her, kissing the tip of her nose. But this was no playful romp. This had all the ferocity of a tornado, hurling her into something for which she was totally unprepared.

  The hands gripping her upper arms were almost painful as he drove her back against the wall, his hard body imprinting itself on hers, while his mouth, that firm, clever mouth, plundered, until she was dazed and breathless. And still he continued, spinning the kiss on and on until, with a moan, she was forced to clutch his waist or risk falling bonelessly to the floor.

  When at last he lifted his head, they both stood perfectly still, struggling to drag air into their starving lungs.

  He stepped back. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away from you, woman. Now don’t forget to set that alarm.”

  “I…won’t.” She was amazed at how difficult it was to get even those words out. Her throat was dry as dust, and her heart was pumping furiously, as though she’d been running for miles.

  She stared at the closed door for long minutes. When she was finally able to move, she threw the bolt and punched in the code. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned weakly against the door, wondering what in the world had just happened.

  She felt as though she’d just been tossed into a storm and had somehow lost all sense of direction.

  Chris Banning was either the best thing that had happened in her life lately or the worst. Either way, he was definitely becoming a problem. One she would rather not have to deal with at the moment.

  Chapter 6

  “I hope you haven’t forgotten our date, Congresswoman.”

  At the sound of that deep voice on the other end of the telephone, Bren had to struggle to stay focused. She’d been immersed in a committee report, and suddenly she found herself remembering, for at least the hundredth time, that devastating kiss. “Date?”

  “A black-tie affair. You do own a formal, I assume.”

  “One or two.”

  “Good. I’d advise you to wear only one of them. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  She couldn’t help laughing. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Absolutely. Don’t try to wiggle out of it. Got to run.”

  She replaced the receiver, then closed her eyes for a moment. It looked like one more night when she wouldn’t have time to read the committee reports that were assuming the thickness of a dictionary.

  As she returned her attention to her daunting schedule, it occurred to her that scant years ago she’d have spent the entire day preparing for a black-tie affair by pampering herself. She would have gone into a panic if she couldn’t find time for a manicure and fancy hairdo. Since joining the ranks of Congress, she simply hoped for five minutes to put on makeup and slip into her gown.

  She stuffed documents into her attaché case and started toward her first meeting of the day. And though she was able to stay focused on the business at hand, every once in a while she found herself thinking about Chris Banning in a tuxedo. The thought never failed to bring a smile to her lips.

  “Well, Captain Banning.” Bren couldn’t help staring as she opened the door to her apartment that evening. The image she’d carried in her mind all day couldn’t hold a candle to the real thing. “You look so distinguished.”

  “And you look—” he gave her a long, admiring glance that had the blood rushing to her cheeks “—absolutely amazing. Who ever said redheads shouldn’t wear red? That’s a dynamite gown.”

  Laughing, she twirled. “You like it?”

  He studied the slim column of red silk, with its thin spaghetti straps, scoop neckline and narrow skirt that brushed the tips of matching red strappy sandals. It managed to be both sophisticated and sexy as sin.

  He touched a fingertip to her cheek. “Are you sure you’re Bren? Or did she hire some gorgeous movie star to stand in for her?”

  Laughing, she caught up a small red evening bag and folded a fringed shawl over her arm.

  When she turned, Chris brought one ha
nd from behind his back and held out a nosegay of white roses.

  Caught by surprise, she ducked her head and breathed in their fragrance. But not before he saw the look of pleasure in her eyes.

  “I wasn’t expecting this, Chris. They’re beautiful.”

  “They don’t even come close to you. I figured white was safe, since I didn’t know what color you’d be wearing.” He offered his arm. “Come on. You’ll get to listen to a bunch of boring speeches after they allow you to enjoy your dinner.”

  “That’s all right.” She linked her arm with his. “It’s a small price to pay for the chance to see you in a tuxedo.”

  “You think so?”

  She nodded as they headed toward the elevator.

  Inside he shot her a sideways glance. “Then just wait until you see me out of it.”

  Their laughter continued as he linked his fingers with hers and led her toward his waiting car.

  As he drove through the streets of the city, Bren turned to him. “I still think you’re making a mistake bringing me tonight. There are going to be plenty of your friends on the force who won’t be pleased.”

  “That’s their problem.”

  “But you have to work with them, get along with them, long after this is over.”

  He glanced at her. “And your point is?”

  “They could make your life miserable.”

  He merely grinned. “Bren, my life was miserable for years. Nothing they could say or do could even come close to what I’ve already been through. Now relax.” He closed a hand over hers. “If you play your cards right, you may even get me onto the dance floor.”

  “You dance?”

  “Not well. But at least I won’t step all over your feet.”

  “That’s good. In these shoes, that could be a disaster.”

  As they drove up to the hotel, a valet took their car. Chris hurried around to open Bren’s door and take her arm. When they stepped into the ballroom, they were met by a sea of men in tuxedos and women in gaily-colored gowns, with waiters threading their way through the crowd, balancing trays of drinks.