Fatal Affair: 1 (Courthouse Connections) (6 page)

When Wayne came to Lanie’s room early the
next morning, fully dressed and looking the part of a powerful senator ready to
take on the state’s weightiest problems, she refused to get up from her
dressing table and look him in the eye.

He cleared his throat, his voice a little
strained when he spoke. “I have to apologize for letting you see me as I really
am. Master thought you should witness a scene like the one last night, just so
you’d know why you can never satisfy me. I didn’t want to do it, never wanted
to show you the real me.”

“Really? Then why did you?” It surprised
Lanie that he would stoop to offering an explanation, especially to her.

“Because my master ordered it. Because he
thinks that since you’ve flaunted your lover, I need to flaunt mine in front of
you.”

Lanie glanced in the mirror and saw
embarrassment in his expression. “Don’t talk in riddles. Just say what you have
to say and get out of here.”

“You left a note downstairs that you needed
to see me this morning. I assume it’s because of what you saw last night.”
Since she wouldn’t get up, he stood beside the vanity table, presumably so she
couldn’t help seeing him.

She turned to face him, recalling only now
that she’d dashed off that note when she’d first gotten home. “Your
assumption’s wrong. I wanted to let you know I filed papers yesterday to
dissolve our marriage, and to talk with you about how we might deal with Bert’s
reaction. Right now I have no stomach to look at you, much less talk, so just
explain the snide remark about my lover and get the hell out of my sight.”

He spoke quietly as usual, but with
unexpected venom. “Your affair with Ackerman’s not so secret anymore.”

Lanie tried to ignore Wayne’s sarcasm. “Come
on. I’ve done nothing to try to keep JD secret from you. Other than meeting him
socially once or twice, I never spent any time with him before that seminar in
Key West, which if you recall was after the discussion during which we agreed
to divorce.”

“I recall that we said we’d continue being
discreet until the papers were filed.” Wayne focused his gaze on the floor, as
though he didn’t want to look directly at her.

“We have been discreet. Very. We haven’t
even spent time together anywhere near your district—or Tampa, for that
matter.” Lanie smelled a rat. “When did you tell Bert we were going our
separate ways?”

Wayne took a stack of grainy photos from
his briefcase and slammed them onto her makeup table, sending particles of
loose powder floating in the air around her, a macabre cloud of pink that
reminded her of the afternoon sky before a storm. “Obviously you two decided to
play around on the beach in pretty much plain sight of several colleagues.
Somebody decided to shoot some photos.”

Lanie looked up at Wayne, surprised by the
intensity she saw in his usually measured, neutral expression. Then she
shuffled through the pictures that had apparently been taken with a
high-powered zoom lens while she and JD had been walking along the shoreline.
It was all she could do to keep from snatching them away and putting them
somewhere safe so she could relive those moments in her mind…until she
remembered that the photographer who had captured those precious moments must
have done it with blackmail on his mind.

When she tried to speak she found her
throat so tight that all she could do was croak out, “Who?”

“It doesn’t matter who took the pictures.
Let’s just say somebody gave them to Bert, complete with the disk they were on.
Fortunately they didn’t get into the hands of a reporter or one of my
opponents’ supporters. We can’t count on that happening every time, though, so
I’m afraid you’ll just have to stop fucking around with other men—at least
until after this year’s election is won. I’ve always made sure nobody outside
the BDSM community finds out about my particular tastes. Unfortunately I can’t
say the same for you.”

“Damn it, Wayne, it isn’t as if I’ve been
out with another man in front of all your constituents in Tampa or Plant City.
Key West is more than two hundred miles away from your district. JD and I
didn’t even go anywhere together in public because we were being careful not to
be seen.” Not careful enough, apparently.

Lanie looked more closely at the photos
then set them on the table and got up, her makeup only half finished. “Wayne,
all these pictures prove is that JD and I were walking along the shore together
and talking—talking, mind you, not fucking—on the porch of his vacation cabin
up there.”

Wayne grabbed the photos and singled out
one where Lanie was looking up at JD, her attention totally focused on whatever
he was saying or maybe on those dark, soulful eyes of his. “When you look at a
man that way, it’s more than enough to set nosy folks to talking. It could
spoil my chances for re-election. Like I said, Lanie, your days of spending
your free time with a lover are over. By the way, I’ve changed my mind about
the divorce, at least until after the election is over.”

Lanie wanted nothing more at that moment
than to throw Wayne’s gay relationship in his face. She bit her tongue to keep
from threatening him the way he was threatening her.

From Wayne’s stricken look, she guessed he
imagined what she had briefly considered. She couldn’t do that to him, though.
He’d been honest from the beginning about his sexual preferences and his need
to keep them secret because of his political ambition. He’d even explained that
he’d outfitted the guesthouse as a dungeon and she must never interrupt him
when he was there.

She reminded herself that she owed Wayne
big-time for taking a dirt-poor country girl, paying for her education and
schooling her socially to the point that no casual observer would ever guess
her humble roots.

But wait.

Hadn’t eight years of her life been enough,
smiling for cameras and playing the placid, supportive wife whenever Wayne
needed good press or female support? She closed her eyes, considering all the
rallies, the fundraisers and her own determined smiles, the many times she’d
suppressed her own feelings and echoed Wayne’s hypocritical, hellfire-and-brimstone
positions that kept him getting re-elected over and over in the rural,
conservative district in eastern Hillsborough County that he represented.

Lanie, you’ve more than put in your
time.

Let Wayne bribe or threaten some other
woman into playing the public role of dutiful wife and closing her eyes to what
he did with his gardener-slash-lover-slash-master in the guesthouse adjacent to
her bedroom window—not to mention ignoring his dirty political dealing.
Standing, Lanie moved away from him, needing distance to say what she had to
say.

“I’ve already filed for divorce and I
expect it to go through,” she said, her tone stronger than she’d thought it
would be if she ever decided to defy the politician with whom she’d made a
marriage bargain.

“So your little liaison involves more than
just scratching an itch? Does Ackerman mean so much to you that you’d give away
all this?” As though he was amazed that she’d walk away from the decadently
luxurious surroundings where he’d placed her like a bird in a gilded cage.

JD meant all that to her and so much more,
but she had no reason to assume that he would want more from her than the
weekends they planned to share, even if she was free. She hoped he would, but
she realized that most of all she wanted her freedom for herself.

“Let’s not kick a dead horse, Wayne. You’re
tired of keeping your master a secret and I’m tired of pretending to be a wife
when I’ve never been one. All I wanted last night was to tell you that I’ve
filed a petition for dissolution of marriage and express the hope that you
wouldn’t contest it. It’s beneath you to have Bert threaten me, and I want you
to put a stop to it.”

Wayne laughed but he didn’t sound amused.
“Didn’t you hear what Bert thought about me going public about being gay? And
what in the hell makes you think I can control what he does? The man has more
on me than he does on the unfortunate souls whose lives he’s ruined over the
years.”

“Like the constituents you promise one
thing and then deliver the opposite? Like your political influence, which you
let Bert sell to the highest bidder?” Lanie felt dirty for ever having agreed
to team up with either Wayne or Bert, whom she knew to be ten times more
crooked.

Wayne had the grace to look afraid. “You’re
not planning to talk to anybody about that, are you?”

“No. I would, but I imagine your buddy
covers his tracks well enough that nobody could get proof of most of the dirty
deals he’s brokered for you. Sooner or later someone will come down hard on
you, but right now it would just be my word against yours. I want my freedom
more than I want to see you and Bert brought down for racketeering.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Dead certain. Can we just walk away and
pretend we never met that night at the Pussycat Paradise?”

He stepped forward and stared down at her,
his expression morphing before her eyes from fear to…she couldn’t quite
decipher it but it seemed a lot like relief. “I can forget that if you can.
You’re not the only one who’s sick of pretending to be something you’re not.
But I want you to stick around for long enough to help me win this election.”

When Wayne paused, Lanie could almost see
ideas churning around in his mind. “I’m hoping that Bert can spin our breakup
some way that will put me at an advantage. Maybe he can pave the way for me to
come out. After all, people’s attitudes about same-sex relationships have
changed over the past few years.”

Not enough that your mostly religious
right-wing supporters wouldn’t still be aghast if they should learn their
senator’s a gay submissive
. Not that Lanie would
say anything—but she was quite certain that Wayne’s campaign manager would go berserk
over the possibility that she’d leak that tidbit.

She was also sure that Bert would toss her
under the bus if he thought doing so might save Wayne’s political career and
his own cushy job. Bert had always given her the creeps. No doubt she would become
the scheming bastard’s mortal enemy now, but it didn’t matter what she had to
go through if in the end she earned her freedom.

She looked Wayne in the eye. “I’ll give
until the end of the month for you and Bert to spin this any way you want, but
I expect you to answer my divorce petition before the end of this week. If you
don’t, I will proceed under the assumption that you don’t intend to contest the
action.” Taking the engagement and wedding rings Wayne had insisted that she
keep out of her handbag, she set them in an antique porcelain dish on the
vanity table. “I’m going to my office now, but I’ll be moving out this weekend
and taking Purrz with me.”

“Good. I’ll be glad to be rid of that
obnoxious feline. I never saw why Bert thought it would make good press for us
to rescue that bedraggled, homeless animal.”

Same way he’d thought it would be good
to kill two birds with one stone and provide his client with a beard—me—while
ensuring that I’d keep my mouth shut about what I saw upstairs that night when
the strip club burned to the ground.

Lanie paused and looked at Wayne. She
wished she could figure out what the hell he was thinking but he was wearing a
poker face, his pale eyes revealing no anger—no disappointment, no joy, no
nothing.

Then he took a step closer, his usually
mild manner suddenly becoming menacing. “Don’t you forget what happened the
night we met, or the unfortunate coincidence that brought us to this in the
first place. If that came out, it would hurt you as much as it would me. Maybe
more.”

Lanie wanted to step back, maintain a
certain distance between them, but she refused to show him that much weakness.
She didn’t need reminding about that night or how close she’d come to being
killed, first by a serial murderer and then by the fire that had consumed the
evidence—evidence that could have ruined Wayne’s political career and caused
her to be framed for his former lover’s murder. It took every bit of hard-won
composure she could summon to look Wayne in the eye and speak calmly.

“I’ve got no intention of prying open that
old can of worms. But I suggest you leave JD out of it when you and Bert decide
how to explain why we’re going our separate ways. He had nothing to do with my
decision.”

“You mustn’t threaten me, Lanie. I turned
you into who you are and I can just as easily destroy you.” But Wayne didn’t
sound too certain. While he might believe he could come out and save his
lucrative career, he obviously wasn’t crazy enough to think that voters would
buy in to a senator who got off being ass-fucked in front of an open window
where anyone who might pass by could see. Or a lawmaker who spent hours bound
hand and foot while his master committed the sexual torture he craved.

“You wouldn’t…would you?”

“I don’t want to…” Her words trailed off. She
didn’t need to spell out that she could damage his career as much as he’d hurt
her and JD if he made their affair public knowledge.

Wayne took a step closer, and for a moment
she was afraid he’d hit her. “You didn’t take pictures last night. Tell me you
didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Though she
hadn’t had the slightest desire to know the details of Wayne’s sexual
activities, let alone photograph them when they were presented to her like a
porn movie on late-night TV, she didn’t need to let him know that.

“Check and checkmate.” Wayne held out his
hand and Lanie laid her palm against his. “You’ve made your point. We each have
doors that we’d rather keep closed. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Lanie hated the brittle sound of her own
voice, wished it were possible to break free of Wayne without making him an
enemy. It hurt that she’d be losing the good parts they’d shared over nearly
eight years.