No Stranger to Scandal

Four



Lucy dropped the strawberry back into the container and dusted her hands on her skirt. “So, about this investigation. What do you want me to do?”

Hayden didn’t answer right away; he regarded her with that intense, steady gaze, as if he could see inside her soul and knew exactly what she was doing by changing the subject away from herself. Then he nodded once. “I’ll be speaking to Marnie Salloway next, since she was the producer on the story that aired.”

Lucy let out a relieved breath. They were back on solid ground instead of the slippery slope of potential emotional entanglement. “What about Angelica Pierce? Seeing as she was the journalist who fronted all the follow-up stories, she could be the one.” She said the word one carefully—she might have accepted the probability that someone had helped Troy Hall and Brandon Ames, but there was no way there was a chain of people leading up to her stepfather. The sooner this investigation proved that, the better. But Hayden either didn’t notice, or was choosing to ignore her inflection and its meaning.

“I’m not as worried about Angelica at this stage,” he said, absently laying a hand on Josh as he slept on the blanket. “Or Mitch Davis for that matter, since both were handed the scripts—Mitch for the announcement at the inaugural ball and Angelica for the stories that followed. But Marnie is different. She could easily be the person who ordered the phone hacking, or filtered the order down from higher.”

The gentle breeze from the river blew a strand of Lucy’s hair across her face and she tucked it behind her ear as she watched him. “You’re not worried I’ll tip Marnie off?”

“Will you?” he asked, with only curiosity in his eyes—no trace of concern.

“No.” She was on board with this project, believed in its goal to find the rat in ANS so she could protect Graham. Undermining it wasn’t on the agenda.

“Even if you do, she’ll find out in the morning when I call to make a time with her. And she has to be expecting that she’s under suspicion, so I’m not telling you anything that’s a state secret.” His broad shoulders lifted then dropped in a casual shrug. “What’s your take on Marnie?”

“This is off the record, right? Just background.” Marnie would love an excuse to complain about her to Graham, to dig the knife in as deep as it would go, and Lucy would rather not give her the ammunition if she could avoid it.

“Off the record,” he agreed.

She could say this directly or sugarcoat it, and she had a feeling Hayden would prefer plain speaking. “Marnie is rude and self-important.”

His expression didn’t alter, as if he’d been expecting as much. “She treats you badly?”

“She doesn’t treat anyone below her well,” she said, trying to be as balanced in her assessment as she could. “But she makes a special effort to make my life unbearable.”

Something in his eyes changed, sharpened. “Is she the only one?”

“There’s a club. They have T-shirts,” she said with a half smile to cover the faint sting of rejection. It wasn’t the first time in her life she’d found herself the target of others’ thinly veiled jealousy or venom, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. She’d learned to not let it get to her a long time ago. Mostly she was successful at that.

“Have you told Graham?” he asked quietly.

Tell Graham? She almost laughed. Oh, yeah, that would go down well at the office. “Just because I’m related to the owner doesn’t mean I can run to him when I have problems.”

“Sounds to me like the opposite is happening. You’re being treated worse because you’re related to the owner.” Deep frown lines appeared on his forehead. “Any other employee would have the right to complain about being harassed, so if you don’t feel you can make that complaint, you’re suffering discrimination.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said and found a carefree smile. She didn’t need his sympathy, or to have someone stand up for her. She was a big girl, in charge of her own life. Being a target of people like Marnie and Angelica was part and parcel of the privilege she’d been born to, nothing more, and she could handle it.

Hayden’s head tilted to the side as he regarded her. “Did Graham offer you the junior reporter role?”

“He offered me a full-fledged reporter role. Then, when I turned it down, the weekend anchor job.” Graham had just been trying to help, to give her a leg up in the industry. The dear man had been baffled when she’d turned down the offers, but he’d grudgingly respected her decision.

“You’d make a good weekend anchor.”

“No, I’d be okay as one.” Being okay wasn’t part of her career plan. “I want the role, sure. But when I get there, I want to be truly good.”

“You’re not what I expected,” he said with the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Neither are you,” she admitted, though she wasn’t sure what she had expected. Perhaps her experience with Angelica, Troy and Brandon had skewed her perception of investigators, but she hadn’t been expecting Hayden to be as considered in his approach, as quietly perceptive. And she certainly hadn’t expected the simmering chemistry between them. Even now, in the midst of a discussion about a congressional investigation, she could feel the almost visible haze of heat that filled the air whenever she was near him.

He cleared his throat. “So. Marnie. Could she have been involved?”

“Well, yes, she could have been involved.” She’d tossed the same thought around a few times herself. “But just because she’s horrible, and had the opportunity, that doesn’t mean she did break the law.”

He rubbed a hand across his chin. “From your insider’s perspective, could Ames and Hall have obtained their information from phone hacking without Marnie knowing?”

“Sure, it’s possible.”

“Possible but unlikely?” he prompted.

She shrugged. “Unless you were suspicious that someone had illegal sources, it wouldn’t be hard to be blindsided. Things happen in broadcast news so quickly that not everyone can be on top of everything.”

He nodded slowly and she could almost see the cogs turning in his mind. “It would be good if you could get me something on Marnie before I meet with her. Something that rattles her enough to admit to knowing.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Assuming she was involved.”

“Naturally,” he said, one corner of his mouth quirking up.

She looked across at him, the investigator for Congress, the man who was haunting her dreams. And she started to wonder if she could say no to him about much at all. She held up her hands. “I’ll see what I can do.”

* * *

Dark had closed in when they pulled up in front of Lucy’s row house, the only light coming from a nearby streetlamp that bathed them in a gentle glow. Her home had been something of a surprise—he would have guessed she’d live in a penthouse apartment within walking distance of cafés, not a place large enough for a family, painted in a rich cream. Every time he thought he had Lucy Royall pegged, she did something else to surprise him.

He shouldn’t like that so much.

He shouldn’t like her so much. No denying that he did, though. Couldn’t wait to hear what she’d say next, what she’d do. When she was near, he found it hard to look at anything else—it was as if she had a golden glow about her, an aura of stardust. And that mouth—a generous cupid’s bow that had driven him to distraction all day—every time she moistened those lips or pursed them in thought, heat had stroked down his spine. Keeping a professional distance was becoming more challenging by the hour.

He switched the car off and pulled on the hand brake. “Just let me get Josh out of the car seat and I’ll walk you to your door.”

“Don’t disturb him. He’s sleeping so peacefully,” she said softly, turning to look at his son in the baby seat. “And don’t lock him in either—just stay with him. It’s about eight feet to my front door. Honestly, I’ll be fine. I do it all the time.”

Chivalry fought with fathering instincts—could he let a woman walk to her door alone, even if it was only a few steps away? But he looked at Josh in the rearview mirror, and fatherhood won. And perhaps avoiding a doorstep scene was wise—this might not be a date, but would he be able to resist kissing her?

He turned back to Lucy. “Once you’re inside with the door locked, call my cell. I’ll wait right here till I hear from you.”

“That’s very sweet,” she said.

Sweet? He almost laughed. She wouldn’t be saying that if she knew the thoughts that were currently bombarding him. Thoughts about the things he’d like to do with her, starting with peeling those clothes off her body, piece by piece. Underneath he knew she’d be luscious and petal-soft....

He cleared his throat and tried to clear his mind of its impure thoughts at the same time. It didn’t work. Distraction, that was the key. He needed to say something, preferably about a neutral topic. “Thank you for today—Josh had a great time.”

“I had a good time, too,” she said, her voice barely more than a breath. Her mouth suddenly seemed so close, and he began to lean in before summoning his control and pausing. As she realized his intent, her pupils dilated. The pulse at the base of her throat fluttered like crazy. Still, he held—not leaning in farther, but not able to move away. Her moist, full lips were slightly parted, inviting him. A groan worked its way up from deep in his chest. Desire like this, that consumed, engulfed, had been absent from his life for a long time. He wanted nothing more than to give in to it, grasp it with both hands, to grasp Lucy with both hands and sink into the sensations she evoked in him.

But he couldn’t let his guard down and think of her as a woman. He had an investigation to run and involvement with Lucy Royall would compromise his objectivity. Compromise him. He was ethically bound to keep emotional distance between them.

He clenched his jaw tight and leaned slow, excruciating inches back.

“Hayden?” she asked breathlessly.

He gripped the steering wheel until his fingers hurt, trying to anchor himself to something. “Yes?”

“Were you about to kiss me?”

His heart stuttered to a stop. He should have known Lucy wasn’t the type of woman to let things lie, to choose the sensible path. “There was a moment, before I thought better of it,” he admitted.

“I wish you had.” She said the words softly, but there was no flirtation in them—they were honestly delivered and all the more powerful for it. Desire still tugged hard in the pit of his belly, demanding that he follow through and kiss her, but he couldn’t give in. Wouldn’t.

He muttered a curse and closed his eyes to limit the number of senses being assaulted at once. “Don’t say that.”

“But it’s the truth,” she said, her Southern accent thick. He opened his eyes in time to see her pink tongue peek out and moisten those lips that drove him crazy. “I’ve been wondering what kissing you would be like.”

“Lucy, don’t.” There was a harshness in his voice that he hated, but was powerless to help. He was on the edge; every muscle vibrated with the effort of holding them still. If she pushed much further, he’d consign his ethics to hell and reach for her.

“What sort of kisser are you, Hayden?” She turned in the seat, facing him, pupils large in the dim light. “Soft and gentle? Strong and demanding?”

He groaned and banged his head back on the headrest. Was she trying to kill him? “This can’t happen,” he growled. “I can’t compromise my objectivity.”

“What if I never tell?” Her voice was pure temptation, full of invitation and delicious promise, making his thundering heart thump even harder in his chest. For a moment, he wondered...could he? A shudder ripped through him. Could he? He glanced out the window, seeking a sign, maybe permission.

Instead he saw a fashionable D.C. street, and it struck him with the force of a blow.

D.C.

He was in this town to do a job. He’d been employed by Congress, damn it.

He scrubbed his hands down his face and refocused on what was important, then turned to Lucy to make sure she understood, as well. “I’d still know. And things would be different between us.”

One corner of her mouth curved up into a half smile. “You don’t think they’ll be different after this conversation?”

“You’ll notice I tried to stop this conversation before it started.”

“Oops,” she said and bit down on her lip, looking anything but sorry. “What should we do now?”

“Pretend it never happened.” It was the only option left.

There was silence for long seconds as she watched him with a small line between her eyebrows. “And if I can’t?”

“We don’t talk about it.” He slashed a hand down to rest on his thigh, hoping he appeared more decisive than he felt. “Never let the topic come up again.”

“Can you do that?”

“Yes.” Sure, he could avoid mentioning it, but the look on her face now in the dim light of the car interior would be burned into his memory, and there was nothing he could do to avoid thinking about kissing her. Dreaming about it.

She picked up her hold-all handbag from the floor and held it close to her chest. “I should probably go inside.”

“Yes,” he croaked. Then he cleared his throat and tried again. “Yes, that would be best all around.”

“Okay, then.” She opened the car door with only a brief glance over her shoulder.

By sheer force of will, he let her walk up the three concrete stairs to her front door instead of drawing her back, keeping her beside him for even a few moments longer. Once she’d let herself in, he dropped his head to the steering wheel and cursed. He’d been stupid, stupid to let his guard down and consider kissing a key witness. What kind of investigator was he?

His cell phone rang and Lucy’s number flashed on the screen. He drew in a fortifying breath and thumbed the talk button. “You’re in?”

“Safe inside, with the door locked.” Her voice was smooth velvet, enfolding him in the dim lamplight. His eyes drifted closed, shrinking his world down to just the cell at his ear and Lucy’s voice.

“Good,” he said, which was about all he could manage.

“Hayden, about that conversation we shouldn’t have had...”

He knew he should hang up the phone now, knew he would regret this, but he couldn’t stop himself from replying. “Yes?”

“I’m glad we did.” He could just imagine her biting down on her luscious bottom lip as she paused, and his pulse spiked. “Though I would have been even happier if you had kissed me.”

His head swam. Hang up the cell, Black.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and summoned his willpower. “Good night, Lucy.”

“Night, Hayden.”

He disconnected, threw the phone on the passenger seat and started the car. If he wasn’t careful, this investigation might just kill him.

* * *

Three nights later, Lucy was in Hayden’s suite, sitting cross-legged on one of the sofas, reams of paper, scribbled notes and printed photos spread around her. Hayden sat on the other sofa a few feet away, his long legs stretched in front of him, ankles crossed on the coffee table, going through a different pile of evidence.

Hayden glanced up at her, his hair haphazard from dragging his fingers through it. “Did you talk to the receptionists?”

Over the past three days, Lucy had spent time with everyone she could corner who worked in support roles at ANS—people who might have had the opportunity to notice things that didn’t add up, and would have been treated badly by Marnie and her friends. Today she’d asked Graham’s secretary, Jessica, to have lunch with her and the other executive assistants, after telling her that being Graham’s daughter was making it hard to make friends.

“I heard a lot of gossip about who’s sleeping with whom—I had no idea it was that much like a college dorm.”

His eyebrow quirked. “Any interesting connections?”

“Why? Fancy someone at ANS?” she asked with as much innocence as she could muster.

The heat that had been lurking in his eyes for three days blazed to life, but his voice was even. “I was thinking in terms of the investigation. Which you knew.”

She did know, but flirting with Hayden Black was dangerously alluring. Like touching a naked flame.

“If we’re talking about the investigation, then apparently Marnie had a fling with Mitch Davis. Since we don’t think Mitch had anything to do with the story besides being handed the toast to give at the inauguration ball, it’s probably not relevant.”

“Ames or Hall sleeping with anyone?”

“Brandon Ames was seeing one of the accountants, but she dumped him when she found out what he’d done. And I’m not sure if an accountant would have been much use with phone hacking, so I doubt she was involved.”

“Hall?” he asked, leaning forward.

“No one had heard anything. If he was seeing someone, it was probably outside ANS.”

Hayden swore under his breath. “Maybe it was too much to hope for a sexual link to lead us to the other perpetrators. But thanks for trying.”

“I’ve made friends with one of the custodians—or rather, Rosebud has—and I’m hoping to run into her tomorrow night again. She might know something about any late-night meetings that other people wouldn’t notice.”

“Rosebud comes in handy,” he said dryly, and she wondered if he realized she’d used Rosie to start a conversation that first day in the park.

She smiled noncommittally. “She sure does.”

Connections with other journalists came in handy, too—she’d heard back this morning from a friend she’d graduated with who’d gone on to work for a New York newspaper. Lucy had asked him to poke around and see if he could find any secrets in Hayden’s past for Graham’s exposé. Her friend had dug up someone who knew Hayden’s in-laws. Seemed they weren’t his biggest fans. They’d wanted their daughter to marry someone of her own class, not a boy—then in the military—who’d come from nowhere. The only thing they were happy about was that he’d put the money he’d inherited from his deceased wife into a trust fund for Josh. Nothing particularly explosive for the story, but her background research folder was growing.

Lucy sifted through more of the papers around her, documents she’d already read, searching for an evasive clue, until Hayden looked up sharply.

“Did you know Angelica wears contacts?”

“Doesn’t surprise me, but no.” And now that she thought about it, Angelica’s eyes were an unusual shade of blue—almost aqua.

He laid down the papers in his hand and picked up his coffee mug. “Why doesn’t it surprise you?”

“She’s vain, and very careful about letting anyone see her unless she’s wearing a full face of makeup. The other on-air journalists are always immaculately presented when they go on camera, but off air they’re more casual.”

He returned the mug to the coffee table. “It probably doesn’t mean anything. I just don’t trust her.”

“Well, I sure don’t trust her,” Lucy said. She’d seen her being nasty and vindictive—experienced it herself—far too many times for that. “Do you think she could be involved?”

“Could be, but it’s unlikely.” There was a definite note of frustration in his voice. “If she’d found the leads, would she let Ames and Hall take the credit? She’s ambitious and it was the biggest story of the year—surely she’d want her name attached.”

He was right, which left them back at square one. Well, not exactly square one, because they’d eliminated some leads. Putting her hands in the small of her back, she stretched, trying to get rid of some of the kinks that sitting on the sofa had created. From the corner of her eye she noticed Hayden subtly watching and her pulse picked up speed. She turned her head a fraction, just enough to let him know she’d noticed. He didn’t look away. If anything, his gaze intensified. Her mouth dried and she moistened her lips—he watched that, too. Then, oh, so slowly, he drew in a breath and looked away, dissolving the tension that had risen. She steadied herself and followed his lead. Falling under Hayden Black’s thrall was a bad, bad idea for her sanity.

What was she supposed to be doing? The investigation. Who else could have been helping Troy and Brandon if it wasn’t Angelica. Right.

She rubbed her hands over her face, hoping it would help her focus. “If someone else is involved, it makes more sense that they’re more senior, not just another reporter.”

He riffled through a pile of reports until he found a chart she’d drawn two nights ago. “Tell me again about who was supposed to be managing Ames and Hall.”

She scooted over to his sofa and looked at the chart illuminated in soft lamplight. Heat emanated from his body. “This is the line of responsibility.” She reached across and touched a fingertip to the paper he held, and as she did, the sensitive underside of her wrist grazed lightly over crisp hairs on his forearm. A shiver ran up her spine.

She heard a sharply indrawn breath and looked to see his gaze locked on her, his eyes darkened with the same need she felt. For a charged moment, neither of them moved, and the only sound she heard was the pounding of her heart. He was so close—a whisper away.

“Lucy, we can’t.” His voice was torn from his throat.

Hearing he was as close to the edge as she was had the opposite effect from what he’d intended. She’d never been good at following rules, or doing what she was told. The day’s stubble on his cheeks beckoned, and she ran her fingertips across it to see what it felt like, what he felt like. His jaw was clenched so hard that a muscle in the corner jumped.

“I’ve been wondering what it would feel like to touch you,” she said, watching the path her fingers traveled over his jaw. “In fact, I wished for it.”

He winced as if in pain. “You should be more careful about what you wish for.”

“I was careful,” she murmured. Her fingertips feathered along the strong column of his throat. “I’m wishing for it again right now.”

He stilled, his only movement the rapid rise and fall of his chest. “I swear, Lucy, you’d try the patience of a saint.” His gaze fell to her lips. “And I hate to admit it, but I’m no saint.” Finally, his hands crept under her hair to cradle the nape of her neck, lightly massaging, sending a spray of fireworks across her skin.

“No regrets yet,” she said, though she wasn’t sure her voice was strong enough for him to hear. He leaned in, his body tense, and his lips brushed across hers, the softest of caresses, yet enough to leave her trembling.

“Hayden,” she whispered with all the need inside her. A shudder ripped through his body. He pulled her flush against him and kissed her, the warm pressure of his mouth like nothing she’d ever felt. When his tongue moved against hers, the shimmering heat exploded inside her, and she crawled onto his lap. It still wasn’t close enough. At last, after all these days of hoping and nights of dreaming, Hayden was kissing her. Hungrily. Gloriously. And she was melting.

On a groan, he wrenched his mouth away and they both gasped to find their breath again, but she didn’t stop touching. Couldn’t. The skin on his neck, below where the stubble ended, was surprisingly smooth and oh, so warm. She pushed her fingers down past the collar of his shirt, wanting nothing more than to feel the strength of his shoulders, to know how they’d taste. But before she could make much headway, he brought her mouth back to his.

“This is a bad idea,” he murmured, lightly kissing the edges of her lips, lingering at the corner of her mouth.

He ironed a hand down her back and her pulse jerked erratically. “A very bad idea,” she agreed with a catch in her voice.

“But damned if I don’t want to do it anyway.” He cupped her face and the fine tremor that ran through his hands created an answering shiver that spread through her whole body.

“Oh, yes. Me, too,” she moaned.

He cursed under his breath, then gave a rueful half laugh. “I was hoping you’d be the sensible one.”

She caught his earlobe between her teeth and gently nipped. “There’s no fun in being sensible all the time.”

“I’m beginning to see that,” he said as he laid her down on the sofa, pressing her into the cushions with his body. He kissed along her throat. “But if we do this—”

“If?” she said incredulously, desire scorching along her skin at every point Hayden’s body touched hers.

He lifted his weight on hands that rested at either side of her head. “If we do this, we have to agree on a couple of ground rules first.”

“Anything.” She reached for him, trying to get him to bring his delicious heat back.

He didn’t move. “I’m serious, Lucy.”

“I can see that,” she conceded on a sigh and wriggled to sit up. Seemed they were having a conversation whether she wanted to or not.





Five



“So, ground rules,” Lucy said, her hands pressing against Hayden’s chest as they sat entwined on the sofa. For the moment, ignoring her body’s insistent straining toward him was her best option so they could get the talking part of the night over as quickly as possible. Then they could get back to the part where he was kissing her. She went a little dizzy just thinking about it.

He swallowed hard and she watched the progress of his Adam’s apple, up then down. “This can only be a one-time deal.”

She slid the first button of his shirt through the buttonhole. “Sure.” She wasn’t thinking ahead; she was too busy being smack-dab in the middle of the moment, so if he thought she’d put up an argument about some future possibility, he was wrong.

His hands were motionless on her hips, but his fingers dug in, his heart thumping so hard she could feel it through his shirt. “No one can know.”

“I won’t breathe a word.” She released a second and third button. A fourth. A whorl of dark hair peeked through the opening she’d made, teasing her. Daring her.

“And,” he rasped, “we both promise not to use it against the other if things get sticky with the investigation.”

She paused a beat and met his gaze. “We wouldn’t do that.”

His dark brows drew together until they almost met. “You don’t know I wouldn’t use it to my advantage.”

“I know.” Hayden Black was a man made of honor. And heat. The burning imprints of his hands held her hips in place beside him on the sofa, much too far away. Why didn’t he pull her closer?

“Agreed?” His voice was tight, his gaze locked intently on her.

“Agreed,” she said, barely caring what she agreed to, as long as it led to more of his bone-melting kisses.

He pulled her against him and his mouth met hers, giving all that heat to her at last. Her throat hummed with a sound of sheer pleasure and she twined her arms around his neck, unwilling to give him the chance to break away again. She’d wanted him in this exact position for days, and the reality was living up to every single fantasy. The hunger. The solid muscle under her hands, the taste of his lips. Sizzling energy rushed through her veins, melting her from within.

When they broke apart for air, there was a flare of satisfaction in his eyes, and it sent a shiver skating across her skin.

“Lucy,” he said, his voice almost reverential, yet thick with need. “I’ve wanted you so badly, I thought I’d go crazy with it.”

She smiled, glad she wasn’t the only one who’d been stuck in that place of torment. “I haven’t been able to think straight since I met you.”

Groaning, he pulled her onto his lap and she wrapped around him, knees on either side of his thighs, pressing as close as she could with layers of fabric between them. She found the thick ridge of his need and pressed into him even more.

Swiftly, he undid her buttons and peeled her top back, kissing the tops of her shoulders as he exposed them and sliding the fabric down her arms before wadding it into a ball and throwing it across the room.

“Your skin is like cream,” he said against the curve of her neck. “Smooth and delectable.”

In one fluid move, he unhooked her bra and threw it in the direction of her top. The cool air nipped at her naked breasts, but the simmering intensity in his eyes more than compensated. Hot fingers trailing her collarbone slipped lower, and his mouth followed them down. She arched back, her mind full of him; nothing could penetrate her thoughts but Hayden and his exquisite torture of her senses. When his lips closed over the peak of her breast, she speared her fingers across his scalp, loving the slide of his hair over the sensitive skin between her fingers. Loving what his mouth was doing even more.

One of his large palms encircled her breast, squeezing ever so gently, and her eyes drifted closed to absorb the full effect of the magic he was wreaking.

“They’re some impressive skills you have there,” she said on a ragged breath.

“All driven by desperate need for you,” he growled.

His shirt was hanging open, yet concealing far too much of him. She pushed the open sides over his shoulders and down his arms until he flicked the shirt off completely. With a ragged moan, she spread her hand over the planes of his chest, reveling in the feel of crisp dark hair under her fingertips, greedy for as much of him as she could touch. She scraped her teeth across his biceps, feeling his shudder as it ripped through his body. It was too much, but not enough.

His hand snaked down between their bodies and released her trouser button and zipper, and when his fingers slid over the exposed satin, she bucked her hips to meet them. She’d never been this crazed with desire before. Being with Hayden was beyond her wildest dreams.

He twisted and laid her back onto the sofa, the fabric smooth and luxurious against her bare skin, and he loomed over her, breathing heavily. Time slowed as she took in the sight of him, of the masculine beauty that was all hers tonight. She’d never forget the way he looked in this moment, the way he’d made her feel. A ripple seemed to run through the air and she knew this was a memory that would last her entire life—a defining moment, a turning point. Nothing would ever be the same again. Nothing.

“Hayden,” she whispered, and suddenly the world started again as he leaned down to capture her lips, kissing her deeply, hungrily, sliding his tongue against hers. She wrapped her legs around his waist and arched up into him, savoring the feel of his body pressed against her. He ground into her and every cell in her body came alive with an electric current, vibrating and sparking.

Then Hayden stilled and heaved in a breath. “That bottomless bag of yours has got to have condoms.”

Delicious sensation came to a screeching halt and she blinked up at him. Protection? “No,” she said slowly, mentally running through the contents of her bag. “You don’t have any?”

He swore under his breath and wrenched himself away. “No idea, but I’m hoping like crazy.” He ditched his jeans and strode to the bathroom, disappearing through the door, leaving Lucy to run through the options. One of them could sprint to the drugstore. A possibility, but it was a long time to be separated in their current state. She glanced at the lights of the city twinkling through the window across the room—she didn’t want to leave this suite alone for anything less than a fire. They could both make a mad dash to her place—she had some condoms in a drawer. No, Josh was asleep, they couldn’t leave. They could ring the concierge and see if he kept a supply—

Hayden reappeared—fully sheathed—with a predator’s grin and prowled across the room. She managed to ditch her trousers and panties by the time he reached her, anticipation singing through her entire body.

“Thank goodness,” she said as he climbed back on the sofa and covered her with all that heat. “I was making contingency plans and they were getting more ridiculous by the second.”

“I look forward to hearing about those plans,” he said, nipping at her earlobe. “Later.”

“Much later,” she said. “I have other plans for our mouths right now.”

Never slow on the uptake, Hayden kissed her, nipping, sucking, stroking until her head swam and she was writhing underneath him.

“Now,” she begged. “Please, now.”

After drawing out the moment for several more agonizing seconds, he captured her gaze and slid into her in one smooth, deep stroke. The world swirled around her and came alive. She came alive. She tightened her grip on his waist with her legs, holding him there, savoring the sensation. Then, despite her hold, he began to move, and she was lost to the dance of their bodies, helpless to do anything but match his rhythm and give in to the sensations.

She soared higher than the stars, and Hayden’s voice at her ear telling her she was beautiful, that she felt incredible, sent her higher still. The rhythm they created together was pure magic; her body was sparkling with bright, pulsing energy. His deep murmurs at her ear became more intense, edgier, pushing her to the brink, and she dug her fingers into his back, holding on, wanting the moment to last. His thrusts became faster, more urgent, and a wave of pleasure rose within her, too big to be contained, and she cried out his name as it burst in an explosion of color and light and intensity, dimly aware that Hayden followed her soon after.

* * *

Hayden stared at the ceiling from his position on the sofa, Lucy wedged beside him, his stomach slowly hollowing out. That had to be the stupidest thing he’d ever done, which was saying something, because he’d done a lot of stupid things in his life.

Making love to Lucy had been earth-shattering, yes. Bone-melting, definitely—he might not be able to stand again for a week. But still stupid.

What exactly were those rules beforehand meant to achieve, other than to give him a false sense of security and permission to sleep with her? He liked Lucy—maybe too much—but she was still lying to cover for her stepfather, and had pretty much admitted she’d do anything to save Graham Boyle.

Hayden had no doubt Lucy had genuinely wanted him tonight—the need in her eyes had been a thing of beauty. But would she use what had happened between them against him to protect Boyle, if she felt she had no other choice? His gut clenched tighter. He’d like to think not, but obviously his judgment was seriously impaired when it came to her.

Even if she wasn’t lying to protect her stepfather, she was ten years younger, for Pete’s sake. He’d been twenty-two once, with all the fun and experimentation that entailed. But he was thirty-two now, with a son. Lucy and he were in completely different places in their lives. He winced and called himself a few more versions of idiot.

The wisest move was probably to step down from the investigation and hand it over to someone else in his company. He now had a conflict of interest. But he was so close to finding the key to this case, and a new investigator would take time to get up to speed. That time could be the difference in catching Boyle and letting him slip through a hole in the net. No, as long as he kept his distance from Lucy now and didn’t let it affect his integrity as an investigator, then staying on was the best thing for the case.

Lucy stirred beside him and leaned up on one elbow, a drowsily satisfied smile on her face. “Under different circumstances—” she said, and he cut her off.

“Under different circumstances it still would have been a one-time deal.” He said it as gently as he could—despite it being the truth, it wasn’t the best etiquette to reject a woman right after making love to her.

Undeterred, Lucy tilted her head to the side. “I thought it went well. Granted, it might have been better had we made it to the bed, and things did get a little carried away toward the end there, but you have to admit that parts of it were glorious.”

His skin shivered with the memory of how good it had been. “Lucy, all of it was glorious.” He cupped the side of her face in his palm. “There wasn’t a millisecond that wasn’t glorious.”

She laid a hand over his as he stroked her cheek, confusion in her hazel eyes. “But you wouldn’t want me again if things were different.”

Wouldn’t want her? “Oh, sweetheart, I’d have to be dead not to want you again.” He withdrew his hand, feeling the loss of her warm skin. “But my life is a mess. I’m all Josh has now—he deserves a parent who’s focused on him. And any attention I have free needs to be on my business. I’ve let things slide a little since becoming a single father, so this investigation is important to my career. I just don’t have time to experiment with relationships.”

One dark blond eyebrow jumped up. “I haven’t asked you for forever.”

“I know.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair and tried to regroup—he was making a mess of this, as well. “I’m sorry. This is my fault—I should never have let it happen.”

“There were two of us on this sofa, Hayden,” she said with a touch of impatience and sat up.

“But one of us thinks being sensible is overrated,” he pointed out. “I thought so, too, at your age. Which is why I needed to be the one who was thinking about consequences tonight.”

She stilled and her eyes turned to ice. “That won’t be a problem again.” She stood and began collecting her clothes.

He thumped his head back on the armrest—hard. He’d basically called her a child. Could he have created a bigger disaster of the night if he’d tried? “Lucy—”

“No, you’re right,” she said as she threw on her blouse, then stepped into her trousers. “We were irresponsible. It won’t happen again.”

She was at the door before he’d gathered enough wits—or pants—to respond. He strode across the room, still buttoning his jeans, and laid a palm on the door above her head, shutting it. She leaned her forehead against the door, her fingers still gripping the handle.

“Lucy, I’ve botched this.” Understatement of the year, but his brain still wasn’t working at full capacity after the best sex he could remember.

She didn’t lift her head. “Yes.”

“No, don’t spare my feelings,” he said wryly.

A soft, reluctant laugh floated up from where her face was hidden against the door, followed by a sigh. “What do you want me to say, Hayden? You wanted it to be a one-time deal. Well, I’m on my way out the door, with no intention of allowing a repeat. You got your wish. So why are you stopping me?”

“I want things to be right between us. I don’t want you to leave now with things this screwed up.” He was normally good at smoothing things over with people, at allaying their concerns. It was a skill that came in handy during investigations. Yet after crossing boundaries he’d set for himself and sleeping with Lucy Royall, he’d managed to insult her. Things had now veered outside his area of expertise. His temples throbbed. In truth, things had left his area of expertise some time ago.

He looked down at her blond head leaning against the white door and cursed himself. He liked Lucy and he’d never forgive himself if he let her walk out of here hurt.

“You said you’d help with the investigation,” he said slowly. “That won’t happen if you walk out that door now.”

She tucked her hair behind her ears then turned to look up at him with a wobbly smile. “Things are fine between us.”

Cupping her shoulders to steady them both, he peered into her eyes, seeking evidence that she was telling the truth. “You’re sure?”

She shot him a rueful look. “One hundred percent.”

“Prove it.” He stepped back, letting her go if she wanted, hoping like all hell she didn’t. If she slipped through that door, she’d take all the warmth from the room with her.

She didn’t leave, instead eyeing him warily. “How do you suppose I prove it?”

“Have a normal conversation with me. You have to give evidence to Congress tomorrow—you need to be in top form for that. We should discuss it.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be all right. I’ll stick to the truth and we won’t have any trouble,” she said, repeating his words from their first meeting with a small smile.

He let out a relieved breath. “That’s always a good policy.”

“Will you be there?”

“At the back of the room, so you probably won’t see me. I’ll give you a call in the afternoon.”

“Talk to you then,” she said, and this time when she opened the door and slipped out, he let her go despite the pressure in his chest.

* * *

Lucy stepped into a cab and gave the driver the address of the ANS offices. She’d just finished giving evidence to the congressional hearing and was exhausted and needed a muffin, preferably chocolate chip, but Graham would be waiting to hear how it went. She sat back in the seat and leaned her head back, the questions they’d asked and her answers rolling around in her head.

One question in particular kept repeating.

“Have you heard the name Nancy Marlin?”

She’d said no, but the name kept coming back into her mind, as if there was a memory just out of reach. She closed her eyes, let out a long breath and tried to clear her mind of everything except the name.

It hovered, she could almost see it...then she plucked it from her memory. Her eyes popped open and she grabbed her cell, dialing Hayden’s number on instinct.

“You did well,” he said when he picked up.

She almost smiled at the warm approval in his voice but stopped herself in time—the time had come for emotional distance from Hayden Black. It should have been a priority last night—no, from day one—but it was even more important since they’d made love. Sleeping with him while she was working on Graham’s exposé had been a monumental mistake. It was likely that Hayden would find the person behind the phone hacking before Graham set an air date on the exposé, but if Hayden found out in the meantime that she’d worked on it even after they made love, he’d have a right to feel betrayed. He’d find the culprit in time, she had no doubt. And in the meantime, emotional distance was the key. She set her shoulders.

“Where are you now?” she asked as she checked out the window for her own location.

“In the corridor outside Senator Tate’s office.”

“I’ve remembered something else.”

His voice immediately changed, became 100-percent business. “I’ll meet you at my hotel in fifteen.”

She pictured his hotel room as it had been last night—strewn with their clothes, their naked bodies sprawled on the sofa. The blood in her veins began to heat. Then she remembered how she’d left and her blood went ice-cold. Maybe she shouldn’t have called him now.

“Lucy?”

No, she’d done the right thing to call. Hayden was the investigator for Congress—the exact person she should tell. They just had to meet somewhere private that wasn’t his hotel.

“My place has muffins, let’s meet there,” she said.

“My hotel. I’ll pick up muffins on the way,” he said and disconnected.

* * *

When Hayden arrived at his suite, Lucy was already there, looking as she had on the screen when he’d watched her give evidence—conservative mint-green dress, her hair scraped back and pinned at the nape of her neck. And now, as then when he’d seen her, his pulse galloped along like a wild horse with no intention of being tamed.

He tossed her a paper bag that was fragrant with the scent of freshly baked muffins, and unlocked the door. “As promised.”

“You’re a prince among men, Hayden Black.”

He threw his keys and wallet on a side table and turned to find her already making headway with the first muffin. She seemed comfortable enough given the nature of their meeting, and it filled him with relief. After the way things had ended last night, he’d feared she might not return his calls, or agree to see him with anything short of a subpoena. But thankfully things appeared to be okay between them, if a little awkward. Now all he had to do was not cross any lines with her again. Never let his guard down.

He grabbed his notebook and sat at the desk. “First, tell me you didn’t remember this when you were in front of Congress and keep it from them.”

“No, in the cab afterward,” she said, taking the other chair at the desk. “But it was their question that made me remember.”

“Which question?”

“They asked if I’d heard of Nancy Marlin.”

“And you said no.” He’d been taking notes through all the hearings, but he didn’t need to check the notes from Lucy’s testimony—he remembered every word.

She nodded, she was practically vibrating with restless energy. “But the name bugged me and I remembered in the cab on the way back to work. I overheard a conversation months ago where the name came up.”

“Who was talking?”

“Marnie Salloway and Angelica Pierce.”

The wheels in his mind began to turn. This could be the piece of the puzzle that made all the others fit together.

“Who is Nancy Marlin?” she asked.

“A friend of Barbara Jessup.” When the president was young, his family had employed Barbara Jessup as a maid—the list of questions for the hearing had included random names of people connected to the president, even by two or three degrees of separation. There was only one reason journalists could have to be talking about a maid’s friend.

Lucy’s eyes widened. “This is it.”

Part of him agreed with her—this could be it—but he didn’t want to count his chickens and jinx it. He drew in a measured breath. “Do they know you overheard them?”

“I doubt it. I was in the supply closet and they stopped just outside the door. Once I had what I wanted, I waited for them to finish—with Marnie and Angelica, keeping a low profile is essential to survival.”

Having met Angelica, he understood. “I want you to repeat word for word what they said.”

“At first they were complaining about one of the other producers, then Angelica asked, ‘Is there any progress with Nancy Marlin?’ Marnie said, ‘Not yet, but we’re still trying.’ And Angelica said, ‘Keep me up to date.’ After that, they went their separate ways and I sneaked out and back to my desk.”

A buzz of excitement was growing in his blood. He’d finally found it. “They’re both involved,” he said, staring down at the conversation he’d just copied onto paper. “They’ve hacked into Barbara Jessup’s phones.”

“Do you want to tell Congress to call me back?”

“We might have to, but I’ll try with Ames and Hall first. One overheard conversation isn’t much to go on, but if I can get them to give Marnie and Angelica up, they might be able to give me more evidence so the charges will stick.”

She put the remains of her second muffin back in the bag and brushed the crumbs from her fingers. “Wouldn’t they have given them up already if they were going to?”

“If they think we’re onto Marnie and Angelica anyway and it’s only a matter of time before we gather enough evidence, then they might try to negotiate with whatever they have on them. I can also interview Marnie and Angelica again, telling them that this conversation was overheard. It might be enough for one of them to panic or slip up.”

With a restless move of her shoulders, she glanced out his window. “I wish I’d remembered earlier.”

“Remembering at all is great.” Gently, he turned her back to face him. “I’ll try and keep your name out of it if I can.”

Her eyes flashed fire. “Our ground rules said we wouldn’t let our involvement interfere with the investigation. Don’t try to protect me.”

“I’d do what I could to protect any witness. If I can get stronger evidence, then we won’t need yours and there’s no point putting you in the line of fire. If we need you, don’t worry,” he said, cupping the side of her face, “I’ll put you back before Congress without blinking.”

As he’d hoped, his words had coaxed a reluctant smile from her.

“As long as you had more of these muffins, I’d be okay.” Her smile faded and she picked up her red hold-all bag. “I have to get back to the office. Graham’s waiting to hear how it went.”

He handed her the leftover muffins. “Are you going to tell him about Marnie and Angelica?”

“I’ll have to. They’re his employees,” she said, her gaze on the paper bag she’d accepted from him.

The cynical part of his brain was still sure she was covering for her stepfather. Graham Boyle was at the top of this chain of deceit, Hayden had no doubt. What he wasn’t sure about was whether Lucy’s willingness to help with the investigation was part of her plan to ensure she was on the scene once he found the evidence on Graham. Perhaps she even hoped to influence him into discarding that evidence.

He hated thinking that way, wished he could just be open with her, but he had to be realistic. Her information had been invaluable so far, but she was an employee of ANS and Graham Boyle’s stepdaughter. Her loyalty would always be with him. Hayden understood that. Didn’t mean he couldn’t protect his investigation where he could.

“Don’t tell him yet. Come back tonight after work and we’ll make a plan for interviewing Marnie and Angelica again. I’ll see what I can do with Ames and Hall in the meantime. Tell Boyle when we know more.”

She bit down on her lip as her gaze swept the room, probably remembering the last time she had been in this room at night, and he thought she was going to say no. His gut clenched. Then she said, “Okay, tonight,” and everything inside him leaped as much as it had when they’d made the breakthrough on the case just moments earlier. He cursed under his breath. Seemed working on Ames and Hall wasn’t the only work he needed to do today—he also needed to shut his body into lockdown before Lucy knocked on his door again.

* * *

When he opened the door to Lucy that evening, there was an awful formality between them. Only his son seemed to make her relax. Josh squealed from his place on the lounge and reached his arms out, and Hayden felt a stab of envy—he wanted to hold his arms out to Lucy, too.

As he watched her with Josh—both of them talking and laughing—he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

Then Hayden’s cell rang and he was almost relieved by the distraction. When he picked it up, the number that flashed on the screen was unfamiliar.

“Hayden Black,” he said.

“Mr. Black, this is Rowena Tate. I’m Senator Tate’s daughter.”

The senator had mentioned today that his daughter was in town, but Hayden hadn’t met her, so the call was something of a surprise. “Good evening, Ms. Tate.”

“I’ve been following the congressional committee’s investigation,” Rowena said. “As you know, my fiancé has an interest in the proceedings.”

The senator had also mentioned Rowena’s engagement to Colin Middlebury, a British diplomat who’d worked with Senator Tate to have Congress ratify a privacy treaty, and had helped the senator form the committee looking into the phone hacking in the first place.

“What can I do for you?” he asked as he tracked Lucy’s progress across to his kitchenette to get a glass of water, Josh on her hip.

“I have a suspicion about one of the key players at ANS that you might be interested in.”

His attention snapped back to the phone in his hand. “I’m listening.”

“Any chance you can meet me tonight at the airport? I’m flying back to L.A. in a couple of hours.”

“Tonight?” he repeated, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck. It was almost Josh’s bedtime and he hated the idea of dragging a sleepy boy out in the dark of night. “Tonight might be difficult.”

Lucy moved into his field of vision. “If you have to go out,” she whispered, “I can stay with Josh.”

“Hang on a minute, Rowena,” he said, not taking his gaze from Lucy. Then he put his hand over the receiver. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Is it about the investigation?”

“Yes.”

“I’m helping you with the investigation,” she said, sweeping an arm toward the piles of documents they’d been sorting through. “Staying with Josh is simply part of that.”

“But it’s his bedtime in about an hour.”

“He’s had dinner, hasn’t he?”

“Yes,” he said, running a finger around the inside collar of his shirt, “but—”

“I’ll handle the rest. I’ve helped out at my charity enough to handle one bedtime. You can show me where things are before you go. We’ll be fine.”

He glanced down at his son—who was gazing adoringly at Lucy—wondering if a good father would leave his son with someone else this way. His gaze flicked back to Lucy. He might not trust her about Graham, but he trusted her implicitly with his son. “Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent.” She nodded decisively. “Go.”

“Thanks,” he said, then removed his hand from the phone to speak to Rowena. “I’ll be there.”