Rise of the Notorious (13 page)

Madison opened the
door to Wyatt’s suite as carefully as she could, praying that it not make a sound. She knew he had ears like a damn hawk, but the last thing she wanted to do was wake him.

In any event, she didn’t know if she had the nerve to face him. The one thing she had promised herself, promised Raoul, wouldn’t happen had at last occurred.

She knew she shouldn’t be surprised. Sex was a purely healthy and natural urge to have and no man had ever attracted her the way Wyatt did. But if she had thought he was a complication just by hanging around, he was an even greater complication if she decided to continue on as his lover.

Thinking of the night before, of how his words had shattered through her steel heart and revealed the stunning, bleeding mess within, had her breath catching in her throat. Dizzying emotions whirled through her like a firestorm, whipping up every past fear and desperate longing. She paused before the cracked open door, needing to center herself, to regain some measure of control. It felt as though the world were crumbling down upon her very head.

Wyatt Bailey had done it again. He’d reopened her wounds and made her remember loving him, what it had felt like, been like. She couldn’t help but despise him for it.

When she felt him come up behind her, she fought back the instantaneous desire to take a violent swipe at him.

“Can’t you see I’m trying to leave?” she snarled, whirling around to face him just as he pushed the door shut behind her.

“I
can
see that.” A grin twitched over his mouth as he folded his arms over his bare chest, his legs covered with jeans, lazily unbuttoned.

She rolled her eyes in an attempt to avoid looking at him. To avoid remembering the enjoyment she had gotten running her hands over his body after all these years. “I have to get home.”

Instead of answering her, he pushed her up against the door and kissed her, needing to feel her yielding to him. He had to feel her give in, just as she did the night before…

“What’s your hurry, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice thick with need as he ran his hands down her sides, taking her in with all of his senses.

“I have to work.” Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt her knees giving out, her heart thudding with vivid hot pain and desire at his touch. She felt her anger building to match the passion and used it as she shoved him purposefully away from her. “Stop it.”

He glared at her, a dark shadow haunting his face as he realized they were falling back into the same old game. It came as naturally to them as breathing did. “I’m not going away this time. You can count on that.”

She stared into his eyes, wanting to believe him and yet still so wary. He was virtually a stranger to her…what did she really know of his intentions? He got off on toying with people, on manipulating and twisting circumstances to suit his own needs. She knew that because she did it herself. But when two people of that same, carelessly cruel nature came together…well, it was quite simply volatile.

And damn it all if she didn’t get off on that, too.

She smiled slowly as she changed tactics, stepping toward him and reaching up to grab the back of his neck and yank his mouth down to hers. She kissed him wildly, pouring all of the dark, vivid emotions she felt into the act, knowing it would unsettle him. Knowing it was the one thing he could not overcome, could not resist.

As she broke the kiss and backed away, the light caught her eyes, disarming him and nearly knocking the very breath from his lungs.

There she was, the same girl he’d met at his blackjack table in Vegas, the vixen with those glorious honeyed eyes. The memory of it hit him like a crushing wave, and the misery it brought stifled him.

Oblivious to his pain, she smiled and patted his cheek. “It’s been fun, darling.”

She turned on her heel and strolled from the room, swiftly shutting the door at her back. Wyatt stared after her, his blood a furiously raging river in his veins.

Somehow, in the years since he had last seen her, she had learned how to always leave with the upper hand.

He didn’t know whether to be proud or alarmed by that fact.

Linc was on
edge, his movements erratic and his mind clearly distracted. Grant walked beside him as they strolled down the block to the restaurant where Shaw had agreed to meet them.

Even with his brother’s presence, Linc couldn’t shake the uneasiness he felt. The hostility.

The man had threatened his family, after all. And potential future father-in-law or not, Linc wasn’t going to let Shaw get away with words of ominous violence, even if they were just in a text message.

It had taken several phone calls to Shaw’s office before the man agreed to even speak to him. Even though Linc would have been content with an explanation over the phone, Shaw objected. Apparently, whatever conversation he wanted to have with Linc was dangerous enough that it couldn’t risk being overheard, even by his own staff.

Which only caused Linc to question the whole scenario even further. What was Lynette’s father’s angle in all of this? Was his only intention to prevent his daughter from further involvement with the Vassers for his own selfish political reasons? Or was there something more to the story?

Clearly the man knew something. Unless he made a habit of declaring that hell was coming to people’s families just for the fun of it.

“You’ll need to resist the urge to throw the first punch,” Grant said suddenly as they came up to the broad glass doors of the restaurant.

Linc glanced up at his brother with a cynical grin. “I promise to be on my best behavior.”

Grant nodded and held open the door for an elderly couple to pass through on their way out. “Good. We don’t know who may be watching us.”

“What, like the press?” Linc asked, keeping his voice down as they walked inside.

Grant scanned the crowded dining room for Shaw. “Maybe.”

“Who else, then?”

Spotting Shaw in the back corner of the restaurant, Grant patted his brother on the shoulder. “I’m not sure. Just be careful what you say.”

Linc snorted as they began to weave their way through the tables toward the back. “Why do you assume that
I’m
the one who’s going to say something brash? Everyone knows you’re the loud mouth of the family.”

Grant shot him a wry look just as they came up to Shaw’s table.

Senator Warren Shaw rose to his feet respectfully, holding out his hand. “Nice to see you again, Grant. Linc.”

“You as well, Senator.” Grant accepted the handshake, looking the man in the eye purposefully as he did so. The senator looked confident, headstrong and capable. Not quite what Grant had expected from a man who’d sent desperate and threatening text messages foretelling the end of the Vasser family.

Linc shook Shaw’s hand next, the movement more than a little combative. “How’s the Waldorf these days, Senator?”

Shaw’s eyes lit with amusement as he smiled. “Just fine, Linc. I do miss the Vasser Hotel, though.”

“I’m sure you do.” Linc settled down into the chair beside Grant, with Shaw across from them. “I hear their concierge is a real asshole.”

“I wouldn’t really know. I just sleep in their beds,” Shaw replied lightheartedly, taking a sip of the whiskey he’d been enjoying before they had arrived. “Get a drink, boys. This round’s on me.”

The waitress approached and Grant ordered a water with lemon while Linc asked for a Corona. Once they were alone again, Linc leaned back in his chair and eyed Shaw with intense distrust.

“So let’s get right down to it, Senator. I want to know what you meant in that message you sent my girlfriend.”

“You mean in the message I sent my
daughter
,” Shaw corrected, eyes flashing with annoyance. He waved his hand in the air dismissively. “I still refuse to believe that whatever is happening between y’all is permanent.”

Linc snorted out a derisive laugh, shaking his head. “Just answer the question.”

Shaw’s eyes shot from Linc to Grant, and he seemed to contemplate his next words carefully. “I’m afraid your family is smack-dab in the middle of a little political brawl. It’s nothing personal, you see, but things are going to get a bit nasty.”

“I don’t understand,” Grant interrupted. “If this has to do with your daughter’s involvement with us, then wouldn’t it be in your best interest to help us rather than hurt us? She’s not going to stop seeing my brother, Senator. She’s made that quite clear.”

“Ah, yes I know that. She reminds me every day that she doesn’t return my phone calls that she chose Linc over me,” Shaw said with a resentful sigh, only to then lean over the table conspiratorially. “Understand this, boys. I’m not looking to hurt your family. The media and your own granddaddy have done that well enough already.”

“Then why threaten us?” Linc charged, pausing only when the waitress dropped off their drinks. As she walked away, he took a long pull on the Corona. “I must be missing something really important here.”

Shaw chuckled, his hands toying with his glass of whiskey and his eyes darting between them. “What I told my daughter was not a threat; it was a warning of what is to come.”

“And what is to come?” Linc asked mockingly, despising the round-a-bout way the bastard was taking to get to the goddamn point.

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but my opponent—”

“Jack Morgan,” Grant supplied, recalling the name Quinn had told him that morning.

“Why, yes. So you do know, then.” Shaw looked at both of them for confirmation, but they only looked confused.

“Know what?” Linc asked, brow furrowing. “Is Morgan planning on using us against you? Does he have some attack ad that shows me and Lynette together or something? Because the public isn’t going to give a shit about that.”

“Oh, no. Well, he might try that, but I doubt it,” Shaw corrected. “No, I suspect he’ll try very hard to avoid discussing your family during campaign season. But I’m going to use every opportunity I have to bring the Vasser name into the conversation.”

“Why?” Grant felt more than a little uneasy as he watched the confident way Shaw dangled this little carrot of information over their heads. It made him remember why he despised politicians.

Shaw continued, “Jack Morgan is the son of Paul Morgan, who was a part of the CID in the Army back in World War II.” He paused, eyeing both men as though waiting for something to click.

Linc was only more frustrated. “That’s great. What does that have to do with my family?”

“Paul Morgan has everything to do with your family, son,” Shaw said slowly, his expression darkly humorous. “You see, he’s the fella your grandma persuaded to cover up the murders of Cyrus’ three brothers in the war. The murders Cyrus has since then admitted to doing. Before his death, of course.”

For a moment, neither Grant nor Linc said anything. They glanced at each other, trying to process the weight of this new information, but it was clear that neither had expected anything like this.

“So…this Morgan guy was the one who buried the file?” Linc questioned.

“And you want to go public with this information,” Grant concluded, staring pointedly at Shaw. “You want to go to the press and out Jack Morgan as the son of a liar and attempt to ruin his reputation. All the while focusing the media attention back on us and on your daughter.”

“Lynette’s dating life is much less damning politically than what I have on Morgan,” Shaw said decidedly, smiling again. “I don’t expect him to be able to recover from this.”

“You really think people are gonna give a shit that his father was involved in a cover-up over sixty years ago?” Linc laughed, more disdain than humor in the sound. “I think your little dirt on your opponent is a bit dull, Senator. You really couldn’t dig up a mistress or a drug problem somewhere?”

“Son, this all may seem a little silly to you. But to the voters back in the great state of South Carolina, we take government cover-ups quite seriously. This won’t go over well for Morgan, I can assure you that.”

“So why wait? Why haven’t you come out with it already?” Linc demanded. “If this is such a big bombshell, why not use it?”

“Timing is everything in politics.” Shaw shrugged off the comment carelessly, taking another sip of his drink. “I’m biding my time. Morgan knows that I know, and he’s probably hoping I’ll keep it under wraps because of Lynette. But he’s quite mistaken.”