Breathe You In

by Joya Ryan

  Clinging to Paige’s advice and my own will to stay strong, I spoke the truth.

  “Just frustrating being rejected.”

  “I know the feeling,” Roman countered.

  Heat rushed to my face and, once again, I wondered if I had made a terrible mistake by leaving Friday night without talking to him.

  “How’s your day?” I asked, a little shaky because really, how the hell should I handle this? We’re together in the eyes of everyone around us. I had repeated this to myself over and over, and a normal girlfriend would ask about her boyfriend’s day, right?

  “My day has been busy. Which is why I’m calling. There’s a fundraiser this weekend, and I need you to come by my office so my staff can get you prepped.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yes. I’ll send a car for you.”

  I looked at my still-full inbox and the memos piled on my desk, and leaned back in my chair. “I can’t, Roman. I can’t just leave work in the middle of the day.”

  “Amy.” The way he said my name—half growl, half stern warning—made me flash to Friday night, when he’d used the same tone right before thrusting himself inside me.

  A hot flush broke over my skin, and my palms suddenly felt clammy.

  “I need you to be here today. I’ve blocked out time, and this is an important fundraiser for my campaign that you are accompanying me to.”

  I could almost smile because he was telling me my duty, based on our arrangement, without actually bringing up the arrangement. Clever man.

  Stay strong, I reminded myself. This wasn’t a battle of wills, it was a battle of reality. He wanted this to be considered a relationship?

  “Well, Roman, I can’t leave my job on a whim to do my boyfriend’s bidding.”

  “I thought your job was contingent upon securing funding for your Arbor Hill center,” he countered.

  Oh, he was good. Damn him.

  “And if I get fired before I get a chance to secure that funding because I randomly take off in the middle of the work day, then our discussion is moot.”

  He was silent for a moment, but I could feel his angry energy buzzing through the phone.

  “I wouldn’t want that to happen, Miss Underwood.”

  The line went dead and so did my pulse.

  Shit!

  What was I doing? Everything was so tightly entwined together that no move seemed like the right one. If I jumped whenever he said, even if it interfered with work, that was bad for my job. If I didn’t, that was bad for my “relationship,” which directly correlated with my job. Now I really wanted to throw my phone.

  Taking a deep breath, I stuck to my principle that I was right. It wasn’t wise to take off whenever he called. Yes, pride was an issue, though I couldn’t find much of it at the moment. This job was important to me. But had I just cost myself a fake relationship and gotten fired from my other “job”?

  I tossed my cell on my desk and put my forehead between my hands. Today sucked.

  Twenty minutes, fourteen e-mails, and three annoying visits from Silas, who gloated that he’d just landed a several-thousand-dollar donation, later, I was ready for a late lunch and maybe even an early happy hour.

  “She’s right this way,” I heard Marcy say with a slight giggle. She had to be several cubicles away, but her giddy voice carried all the way down the aisle.

  I opened my e-mail, determined to send out just one more before lunch and—

  “Amy, someone is here to see you,” Marcy said.

  I turned in my chair to see her beaming from ear to ear, and realized right away that her obvious joy stemmed from the fact that the governor of New York stood directly behind her, a victorious look marring his handsome face.

  “What are you doing here?” I snapped.

  Marcy’s eyes went wide at my reaction.

  I tried to backpedal with a smile. “It’s just…I’m so surprised!” My newly elated tone seemed to calm Marcy but only made Roman’s grin widen.

  “That’s what I was going for, sweetheart.” He turned to Marcy and glanced around the room. “I know how hard you all work, and I think New Beginnings does such a magnificent job for the state of New York and all her citizens.”

  “Why, thank you,” Marcy preened, running a hand through her hair.

  Glad to see I wasn’t the only one susceptible to Roman’s charm.

  “I am going to be doing a lot of running around over the next couple of months, gearing up for the election,” Roman started. “I was hoping to have my girlfriend on my arm for certain occasions, especially since one of the key issues I’m tackling this year is drug prevention. I must admit, Amy has sold me on New Beginnings, and I think your organization would be perfect to spearhead this campaign.”

  “Oh my,” Marcy breathed. “That’s wonderful!” She looked between me and Roman, so happy it practically radiated off of her. “Forgive me, but I didn’t know you two were together.”

  “Please don’t apologize,” Roman said, clasping her hand in his two. “Amy talks all the time about the importance of her commitment to New Beginnings and what it means to her. I’d never want to cause an issue.”

  “No! No, of course not! Amy, anytime you need to go, please do.” Marcy smiled.

  I sat there, mouth hanging open, watching what was happening like I was on a different planet. Governor Roman Reese was in full swing, negotiating for what he wanted. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

  “Thank you so much, Marcy.” He patted her hand. “You’re doing an amazing job here. Keep it up.”

  “Thank you, sir.” The woman practically swooned. I couldn’t blame her.

  Roman’s dark eyes locked on mine. The crisp navy-blue suit and steel-gray tie he wore made him look like he belonged in the pages of GQ, rather than in the middle of my cubicle.

  “Amy,” he said in that way that made my whole body respond. “Care to join me for lunch?”

  “Just lunch?”

  “And a meeting. We need to go over this weekend’s fundraiser with my staff.”

  “I can’t,” I said through clenched teeth. “I have a lot to do around here.”

  “Oh no, it’s okay.” Marcy clapped her hands together. “Don’t worry about coming back today. You just worry about the governor’s fundraiser. We have everything covered here.”

  I tried really hard not to glare at Roman in front of my boss. She was all too happy to concede to his every wish, which was obviously why he’d come down here in the first place.

  “Thank you, Marcy. I’ll have my secretary send over my itinerary for Amy so you’ll know which days she’ll be absent.”

  “Perfect,” Marcy smiled.

  “Are you sure?” I asked her.

  “Absolutely,” she said.

  There was something genuine in her eyes that made it hard for me to fight with her. Of course, Roman had just fought a battle for me, one I hadn’t wanted in the first place. I liked my job. I wanted to be here.

  I grabbed my purse and jacket. Roman held his hand out to me and I took it, hating how warm and comforting it was. Hating how my mind instantly shot to a few nights ago, remembering the way his touch had felt on my skin. How he’d gripped my hips…pulled my hair…

  “Something on your mind?” Roman breathed in my ear as he steered me out of the office, everyone staring as we went.

  “Yes,” I mumbled, keeping my eyes down as we made our way out of the building.

  “I’d love to hear what thoughts have you blushing.”

  I wanted to slap my hands over my cheeks, but it was too late. Instead, I went with, “Nothing I care to share.”

  “I see,” he said.

  We walked down the steps to a black car, and he opened the back passenger door for me.

  “Perhaps you’re thinking of something I’ve already had the pleasure of experiencing?”

  My gaze shot to his. I was pretty certain his job description didn’t include being a mind reader, but it was still hard to wa
rd off the mortification.

  “I…I wasn’t—”

  “Don’t attempt to lie to my face, Miss Underwood.” He moved closer, one hand still resting on the open car door. “Please.”

  He motioned for me to get in. I did, and he closed the door, then walked around the car and got in on the other side. There was privacy glass between us and the driver, and I suddenly felt too aware of, and too close to, the imposing governor.

  I needed to find my strength. Tell him how I felt.

  I swiveled to face him. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “I told you, Amy, if you won’t come to me, then I’ll come to you.” He glanced over at me, but remained facing forward.

  “But I can’t just drop everything whenever you want. I have grant proposals to write and commitments to keep. Believe it or not, I work hard at my job.”

  “Entry-level job,” he clarified.

  Fire raged through every vein and my teeth nearly chipped from grinding so hard.

  “Yes. Which is why I need to be at my entry-level job so that I can get the one promotion opening up soon.”

  “And my presence just sped that along. You’re welcome.” He still faced forward, casual and calm, as all his high-class entitlement suffocated me.

  This was the side of Roman I didn’t care for. But it was apparently something I had to get used to. The only good thing about his attitude was that it seemed to bring my strong side to the surface, because I wasn’t feeling very shy, polite, or nice at the moment.

  “What your presence did was basically start rumors that I’m sleeping my way to the top. I’m actually good at what I do,” I emphasized the last word. “Now all of that doesn’t matter, because I’ll just be the governor’s girlfriend. Not to mention the impression it gives when you waltz in and demand special privileges from my boss just so I can skip work.”

  “I didn’t demand.”

  “Oh, yes, you did. Only you did it in your backwards, charming way so that it was hard to notice. Like she’d ever have said no to you.”

  He finally looked me in the eye and, with a way too sexy smile said, “You think I’m charming?”

  I wanted to growl. Infuriating man! “I think you’re irritating.”

  “Well, that’s better than indifference.” He faced forward again. “At least I know I get you hot.”

  My mouth hung open, again, which was becoming a common occurrence around Roman. He glanced at me again, daring me to lie and say he didn’t have that effect.

  I snapped my mouth shut. I was mad, raging mad, but my body was thrumming, and my heart racing. I wanted to claw at him as much as kiss him, and the fact that he knew just made it worse.

  “The reason our relationship works is because we keep each other’s needs at the forefront of our minds,” he said.

  My brows shot toward my hairline. “You mean, I keep your needs at the forefront of my mind. Because right now, you don’t seem to give a damn about mine. Whatever happens between us is irrelevant to my present professional situation. I still have to prove I’m the best candidate for that job. I have to actually, you know, work, to get it.”

  “I just told your boss that your organization is going to play a major part in the anti-drug campaign.”

  “Which has nothing to do with me! You saying those things doesn’t change the fact that I haven’t secured funds. I haven’t even gotten donors interested. All I have is a handful of maybes. When I agreed—”

  His glare nearly burned my skin when it landed on me. I swallowed and regrouped. Having a conversation with this man was more work than I had ever thought just talking could involve.

  “I want our relationship to work,” I started slowly. Making sure I used the correct verbiage. “And I know that dating you comes with strings.”

  “You mean perks,” he grinned.

  Right now, it came with a sporadic heartbeat and trembling hands, but nevertheless, I forced myself to keep calm and continue.

  “Roman, despite what happens between us, I still have a life I have to live. A job I have to go to. If I don’t produce something by November, at the end of this election season, I won’t get that job.”

  The position would have to be filled by then, and that person would likely be responsible for overseeing the management of the new facility’s opening. If we got the funding, of course. Either way, Silas was ahead of me in terms of tangible progress. If I didn’t get the Level Two position, there would be no reason for me to stay in New York. I was already tapping into my savings on a regular basis to supplement my income and pay bills. That would only last me a few more months. The thought of moving back home to Indiana, where my parents and all their misery waited, made me a little nauseous.

  I needed to make this work, acquire a real income, and make Lauren’s House a reality. The alternative would be to deal with another failure, and all the disappointment that came with it.

  “Do you always wear skirts to work?”

  I frowned. Where did that come from? “Most of the time.”

  “Why not pants?”

  I shook my head. “I, ah…what does this have to do with anything?”

  “I’m curious.” His eyes left a trail of heat as his gaze skated over my knees, up my legs, and to my breasts before he looked forward again.

  “The only pants I wear are jeans, and that goes against the dress code.”

  “Why don’t you wear slacks?”

  Holy cow, what was this? Wardrobe interrogation?

  “Because I don’t like the way they fit me, okay? Why don’t you wear jeans?” I fired back.

  “Because I rarely have the opportunity. Why don’t they fit you?”

  I looked around the car to see if I had somehow been transported to some alternate plane of existence where anything about this conversation made sense. Nope. Still the back of his car and beyond the point of irritation.

  “Because I have a big ass. Happy?”

  “Yes.” He turned, openly eyeing my body like he had every right to do so. “Your ass makes me very happy, actually.” His dark gaze paused on my mouth. “In fact, I was just recalling how you looked, bent over my chair, skirt up around your hips, while I fucked you from behind.”

  His lips twisted into a panty-melting smirk that nearly made my pulse flatline. I didn’t know whether it was his words or his expression, but I was on the brink of cardiac arrest.

  Before I could say anything, the car stopped and Roman got out. “We’re here.” He walked around and opened my door, helping me out. “Welcome to Capitol Hill, Miss Underwood.”

  Chapter Seven

  Dresses or skirts for Miss Underwood, no pants,” Roman said to a small woman in her fifties, who was waddling beside him and furiously taking notes.

  I walked behind them, trying to keep up and definitely not looking at Roman’s ass, or thinking about how perfectly his pants fit him.

  “Get one of the assistants to bring up the wardrobe. I’m also going to need a draft of talking points drawn up, a schedule of engagements and events sent to Marcy Dunbay at New Beginnings, and all travel arrangements for the next eight weeks altered to include Miss Underwood.”

  “Yes, sir,” the woman said, the beaded chain dangling from her glasses to her neck swaying as she peered through her bifocals.

  She took an immediate right and sat behind the single desk in front of a massive mahogany door. The small bronze placard on her desk read JEAN POSY. Obviously Roman’s secretary.

  Roman opened the door and ushered me through.

  “This is your office?”

  He nodded.

  I looked around at the intricate décor. Rich wood and soft creams contrasted nicely with the burgundy and hunter-green accents. A couch and two chairs faced each other in the middle of the room. Between them sat a massive rug, quite possibly the most beautiful I’d ever seen.

  With floor-to-ceiling windows as a backdrop, the huge wooden desk faced the room like a king’s throne. Cherrywood bookshelves lined one wa
ll, while the opposite held a fireplace surrounded by extensive brickwork and art hanging above the mantel.

  “You really like your fireplaces,” I murmured.

  “I’ve acquired a new appreciation for them recently.”

  He walked behind his desk, and I couldn’t tell if he’d noticed how his mere words had made my face flush more than those damn glowing embers.

  “Are you going to fill me in on what’s going on?” I said.

  He looked up from a few papers he was perusing at his desk. “I’m preparing for you to travel with me over the course of this campaign.”

  The only thing missing from that statement was a “duh,” and I was in no mood for his obvious repetition.

  “Yeah, I gathered that when you barged into my office—”

  “Cubicle.”

  “And interrupted my day,” I said.

  “I thought my girlfriend would enjoy spending time with her man.”

  I folded my arms and walked toward him. “Maybe she would if that man wasn’t being a gigantic prick.”

  He arched a brow, and I stifled the urge to throw a palm over my mouth. I didn’t know where this forwardness was coming from, but I was so off-kilter at this point that anything was liable to come out of my mouth.

  “What do you want from me, Roman?”

  He slapped the paper he was reading down on his desk and walked toward me. “You know the answer to that already.”

  “Yes, I do. Which is why I can’t figure out why you’re acting this way.”

  “What way is that?” He put his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the front of his desk. A challenge.

  In short, I was coming to realize that being with Roman was a game, and to win, I’d have to play by the rules, while daring the other person to break them.

  I took a step closer, this time observing how his gaze skated from my heels to my shoulders, pausing at all the good parts in between. Maybe the governor struggled the same way I did.

  Maybe he wasn’t completely immune to me either. We were after all, a couple.

  “You’re being cold,” I said, taking another step. “I don’t like it. It makes me question why I’d be in a relationship with someone who treats me this way.”