“I’m sorry this happened.”
“There’s a price for peace. Always.” He looks at me. “But it’s worth it.” He runs a hand down the back of my head. “Go to sleep, baby.”
I lie back down, and he stretches out beside me, a pillow propped behind his back as he pulls me to his side.
My eyes drift shut. No matter what goes on outside this room, in these arms, I feel safer than I ever do anywhere else, and the relaxation seeps into my pores as I drift off and keep my arms around him—as if I, just a small, normal girl, could somehow comfort the most powerful man in the world.
I wake up at 5 a.m. Matt isn’t there. I sit up. “Matt?”
I look around the empty bedroom, ease out of bed, and quickly get dressed. I find him in the small family kitchen. “Are you all right?”
He takes my hand and draws me to sit next to him, then he presses his thumb into my palm, quiet. My heart speeds up with a mix of panic and dread. It feels as if my ribs have just collapsed in my chest, crushing my lungs.
“I had an early meeting in the Situation Room.”
I know why. It’s not easy to make the hard calls. But then our eyes connect again, and a smile tugs his lips. “It’s done. The men are free. A couple wounded, but no casualties. The rescue team did an outstanding job.”
“Oh, thank god.”
“Yeah, thank god.”
“And you. And them.”
He rakes a hand through his hair, then pulls me to him, pressing his lips to mine. Pressing them hard.
“Mr. President,” a Secret Service agent says. “Marine One’s ready, sir.”
“Let’s go,” he tells the agent as he reaches for the suit jacket he has draped behind his chair. “They’re flying them in. I’ll be there to receive them.”
“I have to do a talk at a middle school in New Orleans.”
He nods. “I’ll see you this weekend.”
He’s flying to Fort Lee.
I watch out the window as several marine helicopters depart at the same time. Only one carries Matt.
19
HOME
Matt
I spend two days with our men and their families. I engaged in a meeting with some of my generals, and requested several new and detailed plans for the handling of the Middle East crisis.
It’s late evening when I climb into the state car along with Wilson, who joins me in the back as we head to Marine One to return to D.C.
“She’s home?” I ask Wilson.
It’s pretty convenient that my agents have constant contact with her.
I’m eager to see her. I shed more than my clothes when I’m with her. I shed every preconceived notion of who I should be. My last name, the presidency, everything is gone—only I remain. A man, flesh and blood, not perfect, but trying his damn best to be, and a man who wants her. Bad.
“Yes, sir.” Even Wilson sounds amused.
Shit, I’m too old for this.
My heart is pounding like a wild thing and I’m drumming my fingers on our way there.
Just remembering the way she gave herself to me, open to whatever I needed, so sweet and vulnerable, makes me thirstier, hungrier.
I reach the White House and Jack is barking at the top of his lungs. “Go find her,” I say.
And I follow him as he dashes up the steps and stops at her room, wagging his tail.
“Good boy.” I pat the back of his head, then I twist the knob, telling him under my breath, “Stay,” and walk inside.
She’s reading on the bed. Looking up to see me, her eyes widening, her mouth parting in a tiny O.
I clench my hands. The need to protect her burns me on the inside. To rid the world of every evil, every injustice, everything that could hurt her or anyone like her.
I’m wired, have had little sleep, and am instantly hard. I should step away, chill with a glass of wine. Fucking unwind. But I couldn’t move away if threatened with a bullet to the head.
She uncurls that sweet body and comes to her feet, setting her book down.
I head over to where she stands at the foot of the bed and pull her to me, lowering my head. A graze first, my lips on hers. It turns hungry. One second, two, and my hands are diving into her hair, grabbing her to me.
“You seem happy to see me.”
“You know damn well that I am,” I growl, feeling possessive, smiling at how pleased she seems.
She smiles happily and nibbles on my lips, and I groan and nibble harder, faster. She’s so sweet; she is sweet inside and out, and I’ve developed a sweet tooth of the kind I’ve never had.
I want to marry this girl. I want to marry her now.