Private Indiscretions (8 page)

“The people working in the library said you'd gone for a walk.”

“I did.”

“I didn't hear you come in. You weren't here when I got home.” She seemed to really look at Dana then. Her eyes shifted to the bookshelves. She drew up a little taller. “I offered refreshments to your people.”

“Thank you. They'll be staying for dinner, as well. Give us until seven o'clock, please.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Hilda closed the door behind her.

“She knows about the passage,” Sam said.

“Why do you say that?”

He pulled something from her hair. “She put one and one together. Cobwebs and you missing then reappearing without her hearing you.”

“Do you think she uses it?”

“Not recently. In the past? I don't know. The speaker is more current technology, but either Randall or his father could've installed it.”

“I can't figure out why he didn't tell me about the passage. I thought we shared everything.” She sighed. “That's ridiculous, of course. I didn't tell him everything either, not the secrets I'd buried before I met him. Certainly not about how Harley tried to rape me.”

She stopped short. Finally she'd said the humiliating words aloud. Sam's expression darkened. She couldn't un
derstand how he could be willing to help her now after what she'd put him through fifteen years ago.

“I'm so sorry, Sam, for going to the police. I should've listened to you. You were right when you said Harley's father would stop an investigation cold. I thought you were being heroic. I didn't know naming you as a witness would put you in danger.”

“What did happen to Harley? Anything?”

“After you left town, it came down to my word against his. The police chief told my parents that Harley had been given a ‘good talking to,' so that he understood when a girl says no, it means no.”

“Why were you with him? You never liked him.”

“I had stayed after school for a student council party to celebrate graduation. Afterward he offered a bunch of us rides home.” She took a deep breath, visualizing what she'd tried to put out of her head. “He left me for last. I tried to get out of the truck, but he grabbed my arm and held me. Then he dragged me into the woods.” She closed her eyes. “He liked it when I fought him. He kept saying how he knew I wanted him and to stop acting like I didn't. God. My parents gave me a car the next day for graduation. The next day! I wouldn't have had to accept a ride with him—”

She stopped. This wasn't about her. It was about what Sam had done for her. “If I hadn't gone to the police, nothing would have happened to you.”

“I survived. Let's move on. We've got a more important issue to face, like who wants you out of the political picture.”

She admired his ability to stay focused. She enjoyed his quick, logical mind, the power he showed in subtle ways, even his occasional protectiveness. She'd made a mistake in not asking him from the beginning for his help, because he wasn't a man easily thwarted or daunted. Not to mention how appealing he was as a man, his strength and his tenderness.

She took a cue from him and refocused. “What's next, then?”

“Abe is talking to a few people, checking out some—”

“That's how you and my chief of staff keep something confidential, by bringing in more people?”

“Why are you so determined to try to solve this yourself? We can't do it without help from people who can work some aspects of the investigation much more efficiently than we can. After all these years you must know he'll be discreet. He knows the players. He'll make a few friendly calls. I think we need to focus on Harley. The timing is too right to ignore.”

“I'd hoped never to see Harley again.” She pressed a hand to her mouth. “Harley. He phoned in to Lilith's program—what day was it? Tuesday. She sent me a tape. It's in my briefcase.” She called herself all kinds of names. “How could I forget something like that? I'll go get it.”

“I'll be in the library checking on Nate and Arianna.”

“Okay.” She ran up the staircase, found the tape and a small tape player, then started toward the door. On the wall of her bedroom hung a picture from her wedding. She didn't look like a first-time bride. No flowing gown, no veil. Her simple pearl-pink suit seemed appropriate for a judge's-chambers wedding. Randall had seen no reason to wait. She'd agreed.

But she'd regretted not having the fairy tale. Oh, maybe not a five-hundred-guest extravaganza, but a gown that would make her feel like a princess walking down the aisle to her Prince Charming, and all her friends and family watching instead of just her parents and Lilith.

It had been so dignified, instead.
She
had become dignified.

She'd believed what she'd told Sam, that there was more to marriage than passion, but she'd been thinking only about sexual passion. There were other kinds of passions that mattered, too. But if anything, she'd become more emotionally controlled and composed.

She hadn't lost that passion completely. Being near Sam made that clear to her.

Well, if she needed things to change, it was up to her to change them. There was still time.

And there was a man downstairs who'd been her knight in shining armor three times now, without asking anything in return. A man who'd rekindled a fire inside her that he'd first lit in high school then rejected in a way she'd never understood.

Maybe he was afraid, too. She wanted him to give her a chance and see what could happen. The old flames could be used to torch new ones.

She could start tonight. She would change into something more feminine, freshen her makeup, spritz on a little perfume. She would smile at him, flirt with him.

If he would let her.

She tamped down her insecurities. He was good at picking up her signals and understanding them. Surely he would realize that she wanted to continue what they'd started in the passageway.

 

Sam watched Dana hunt down an electrical outlet for the portable tape player. She'd changed into a lacy, stretchy top and hip-hugging pants, taking five years off her normally conservative appearance, and removing all hints of her political status from view. He'd touched that skin underneath, tasted it, stroked it. He'd heard her sighs, felt her hands on him…

He caught Arianna watching him. No one was better at reading unspoken cues than she, the reason he almost always called her in on interviews. Sam was good at it, but Arianna was masterful.

Arianna and Nate also knew about his past with Dana, thanks to a night a few years ago when they thought they were going to die. In the dark hours while trapped and waiting to be rescued after a bombing of their army head
quarters, they each shared their greatest success and deepest regret. Dana was the key player in his.

He was irritated now that Arianna knew. She wasn't one for letting such things slide. It didn't help that his sexual frustration with Dana had reached meltdown, then his mood blackened further when he heard Harley's voice on tape.

“I'm looking to help a woman lose her frigidity,” Harley said.

Arianna laughed. Sam didn't think it was the least bit funny.

“Her frigidity,” Lilith repeated slowly. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

“You know, she's cold. Maybe she's a hopeless cause, I don't know. I mean, if I can't help her, no man can.”

“Tell me a little more about her.”

“I have a name for her. The princess of Prospector High.”

Two beats of silence passed. “I see. Since your title isn't exactly complimentary, why are you interested in her?”

“Because it just kills me that she's going through life without enjoyin' it.”

“And you would be the one to bring her pleasure?”

“You bet I would.”

“Maybe she just doesn't like you.”

It was his turn to pause. “Well, now, that's not a professional thing to say to a man who's tryin' to help someone out, is it,
Dr.
Lilith?”

“I would say, caller, that the problem lies in your ego, not this woman's frozen desires. It sounds like a lost cause to me. My advice is to back away.”

“Can't do that. It's my destiny. I won't be satisfied until I've taken care of this gal, that's for sure. Taken care of her but good.”

“Frankly, I don't know how to break down this woman's defenses, caller. Better just move on to someone more receptive…I see it's time for a commercial.”

“Lose her frigidity?” Arianna repeated, chuckling. “Pompous ass.”

Dana's eyes finally took on some sparkle. “I see you've met him.”

“Yeah, him and a few thousand others like him.”

Nate chimed in. “And they all hightailed it outta there clutching their wounded crotches.”

“That was for the part of
no
that they didn't understand.”

“You ever said yes, Ar?”

She tossed a pen at Nate, who caught it midflight.

“Children,” Sam said, pushing past the bubbling fury that wasn't going away. “I think it's time I paid a call on our old friend. Looks like I'll be going to the funeral with you, after all, Dana.”

“You are not going to cause a scene at the funeral.”

He hoped his expression said, What do you think I am, an idiot?

She held up her hands in surrender. “Just checking. You left me to deal with the aftermath of the scene you made at the reunion.”

Arianna's eyebrows went up. “Sam made a scene? Surely you jest.”

Dana warmed to the subject. Her eyes sparkled. “I'm not kidding. He swooped in, danced with me, caused a ruckus with Harley—after which Harley ended up on the floor, but no one could figure out how—then he swooped out. He was only missing the black cape. I caught hell for his superhero tactics.”

“What do you mean? What did Harley do?” Sam asked, ignoring the teasing glint in her eyes. This was serious. Why hadn't he thought about the potential retribution in front of everyone at the dance? He'd guarded her house for hours in case Harley followed her home. But, dammit, he hadn't even thought about what could have happened at the reunion itself. What the hell was the matter with him?

“He was his usual arrogant self,” Dana said. “I dealt
with it. But I was not too happy with you.” She grinned, contradicting her words, then she walked to the door. “I'm going to phone Candi and tell her I'll be attending the funeral. She wanted me to say a few words. And Lilith will want to know, too, although her husband says she's not going any distance in a car right now. I'll be back in a few minutes.”

The library door had no sooner closed behind her when Arianna leaned her elbows on the tables, rested her chin in her hands and raised her eyebrows again.

“What?” Sam said.

“You.”

“What about me?” But he knew. He knew.

“You are still gaga over the Honorable Dana.”

“So?”

“So, you've not only got to go to the funeral, you've got to act like her lover.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“See? You're not even thinking straight or you would know you don't have a choice. It'll tick off this Harley royally, then you'll see what he's got going, if anything. Something tells me it's a role you won't mind playing. In fact, you'd probably even like to play it again, Sam.”

Nate laughed.

Sam started to debate the point then realized Arianna was right. He had to make it look personal. And the more loverlike the better, if they intended to get a rise out of Harley. Sam was torn between agony and ecstasy—finally the right to touch her, but it was only a game. A role. A job.

“You realize you could be photographed there,” Arianna said.

“It's a small-town funeral for a local teacher,” he said, but more to convince himself.

“With a newsworthy woman attending and speaking.”

“Her decision is last minute. I don't imagine any press will attend.”

“But if they do?” Nate asked. “You know what you're
forfeiting? The speculation will start. Plus, if you drop out of the picture too soon after, it'll be further cause for curiosity.”

“I know. Odds are good it won't go beyond Miner's Camp.”

“A wishful statement from Dana's friend about her running for office again made it beyond Miner's Camp,” Arianna pointed out.

“I know.” He glanced at each of them, gauging their reaction. “If I'm identified, along with the firm, will you be okay with that?”

“Yes,” Arianna said, then looked to Nate, who nodded. “But will you?”

“I don't want to cause a problem,” Sam said. “We've never needed publicity to get work. Never sought it. One of the appeals of our firm is that we're a well-kept secret. That matters to the people who refer us and who hire us.”

“Bless their generous wallets,” Nate said.

“If she knew what a risk you were taking, what a sacrifice you were making for her, would she let you?” Arianna asked.

“I'm not telling her, and neither will you. This is my decision. My choice. It's better if she doesn't know so she doesn't have to lie. She's a really bad liar.”

“And she's a politician?” Nate asked. “Look, the way I see it, unless you become a permanent item with Dana, it's not going to matter.”

Nate was right. Sam would do Dana this favor then walk away. The less she knew, the more protected she was from the wrong kind of attention. Her reputation was everything.

Hours later, Sam was still telling himself that as he turned out the library lights. Dana had invited them all to stay overnight. There were plenty of guest rooms. Sam made a quick trip to his hotel to pick up his clothes for the funeral the next day, then they'd shared a rich fish chowder that Hilda prepared. After, they burrowed into the library,
again poring over files Abe had brought, including the threats and hate mail accumulated during the years.