I’m so aware of the people glancing toward our cars as we pass that it takes me a moment to become aware of Matt watching me.
He looks stunning in that tux and he smells so good, his cologne making me dizzy.
His presence, his nearness, his gaze. I clench my thighs together under my gorgeous, glittering Cinderella dress, wanting him. Wanting him so much, not just physically, but emotionally. I crave our nights alone, talking . . .
In the White House, there are so many people—butlers, maids, doormen, ushers, plus the West Wing staff—I wonder if I’ll ever be able to have the courage to do more than steal in secret into his room. Or let him steal into mine.
I meet his gaze. “It feels completely surreal.”
His lips curl, and he looks at me a moment more. “Let’s come out as a couple tonight.”
The low but firm words trigger a tremor down my spine.
I remember hundreds of nights during the campaign, sleepless, wanting him.
I remember that he won. That I went to Europe. That I’m living in the White House with him, more in love than ever. And that we’re taking it slow.
Slow.
And utterly, exquisitely slowly, Matt slips his hand under the fall of my hair and places a kiss on my forehead, then my mouth. It’s a soft kiss, fleeting, but it leaves a burning sensation behind when he eases back.
He looks at my kissed lips with a male pride and not one bit of apology. “I’m tired of keeping you in the shadows. I want everyone to know that you’re mine. But I know what I’m asking is for you to become even more public, and possibly under scrutiny. I will wait for as long as we need to, but I’m ready to move this forward, Charlotte.”
I swallow.
“I want that more than anything,” I breathe.
He slips his hand over the curve of my shoulder, touching my bare skin as we ride to the event.
“I just had this hope that . . . I’d prove myself as a first lady first, before we announced our relationship to the world. I’m not so sure what I want to do anymore.” I meet his gaze.
There’s something predatory about the way he’s looking at me.
“But I’ve always wanted to just be with you. Without the concerns and the hiding,” I admit.
“So. Be with me.”
The smoldering flame in his eyes warms me to my core, and I hear myself say, “It seems to me that if we took it slow, there’s a better chance for the citizens to adjust to the idea of you having a girlfriend in the White House.”
“The speculations are running amok already. Half the country will be worried you distract me—the other half will be thrilled. It doesn’t matter. I want you. I want you indefinitely—and eventually, baby”—he takes my chin—“you’re going to need to own up to the fact that the man you’re in love with is the president, and you helped put me here.”
I laugh, and he smiles too.
His hot gaze caresses me and heats me down to the marrow of my bones. “When we can’t be together, I miss the way you smell. The way you look. The way you feel.” His lips curl, and he cups my face in his warm hands and leans to whisper in my ear, “I’m blown away by you. And so will every person who looks at you tonight. Not that I’m too happy about that.”
I’m blushing head to toe, so thoroughly I don’t even know what to do with myself. “You’re so forward, Mr. President.”
He laughs, then releases a deep groan and ducks close to my ear. “Think about what I said. Let’s talk about your concerns this weekend.”
I swallow again. “That sounds good.”
He nods, releasing me only when we are seconds away from arriving at the fundraiser.
The state car comes to a stop, and I feel queasy from the stress of my first public appearance. Matt gets out of the car, and I hear the people waiting outside. Some gasp, others sort of whisper, and then the press just starts to roar.
“PRESIDENT HAMILTON! MR. PRESIDENT!”
Matt looks into the car and extends his hand to help me out.
Overwhelming doesn’t cover it. I’m not sure if it’s because it’s our first night out, or if things will always be like this, but I paste a smile on my face even though the strongest urge I have right now is to avoid the cameras. I take his hand for support, slipping my fingers into his as I set my feet on the sidewalk and stand, blinded by the flashes. I slip my arm into the crook of Matt’s and feel him tuck it even tighter as he guides me inside.
A line of people eager to greet him instantly forms inside the ballroom.
I stand by his side, meeting friends of his, celebrities.