Rook (Political Royalty Book 2) (14 page)

Politics was different. She’d earned her place there. She’d won her way to the top and she proved everyday she knew her stuff. She paused in the doorway, literally standing on the threshold. She might be an asset to the people in the room, but she’d never be their equal. She’d met their kids at university. She knew the type. Glancing over at Walker, she was surprised to see his lips pressed into a thin line.
What did he have to be worried about?
This was his world and these people wanted to support him, to help pay for his candidacy.

“Come on,” said Walker, catching her gaze and jolting her out of her self-indulgent self-doubt. “Let’s go shake some trees and see what falls out.”

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S
HEP HAD BEEN to dozens of these dinners, first locally with his father as he made his first run at the state congress and then later on a broader scale as he made the move to national politics. He ought to be comfortable with it by now, but pimping for campaign donations never got any easier. For anything less than a presidential campaign, he’d be tempted to self-fund, but his father convinced him early on—and rightly so—that having other people throw their money behind a cause, in this case him, got them invested in a way that nothing else could. It also added validity to a campaign. Voters might nod and smile at the idea of a candidate paying their own way but it was a little bit like throwing your own party. One person did not a movement make.

It was a moot point anyway. He had enough money to fill in fundraising gaps, but even he didn’t have the kind of money it took to run a presidential campaign. Not without drawing deep on Walker money in a way that would affect future generations. He wouldn’t do it, even if his father had been okay with it. Better to suck it up and hold out his hat, no matter how much it rankled. It would be easier if he couldn’t feel Haven practically vibrating under his hand. It would be easier if he thought her nerves were anticipation and they were because of him and not the strangers waiting inside. Everything would be easier if he didn’t want her so damn much all the time. Every single moment of every single day.

He shouldn’t have come alone with her. He controlled every part of his life but where Haven was concerned, he was toast and he couldn’t even muster the balls to care. He wanted what he wanted. It was as simple as that and as selfish. And what he wanted was her. The fact that he also wanted to be president didn’t supplant his feelings for her.
Fuck
.

Everything would be easier if Travis could keep his hands off the oysters. He was the financial officer and the one who’d fielded Mrs. Winthrop’s calls. He’d worked with her to set this whole thing up. Walker was just supposed to show up, be charming and watch the money roll in. Sucking in his breath and plastering his
you can trust me
smile on his face, he tugged Haven across the threshold and into the room.

“There he is. The man of the hour.” A beautiful older woman, with skin as smooth as her drawl, glided toward him.

She wore a deceptively simple gown that Shep knew from his wife’s charge accounts probably cost as much as a small used car. The green of her dress mirrored the color of her eyes and her auburn hair was smoothed into some kind of twist, so sculpted no hair dared escape. It was nothing like Haven’s sexy tumble of curls. His fingers practically itched to pull the pins free and sink into her hair. He’d been fighting the urge since she met him at the door to her hotel room, looking like walking sex in demur black silk.

“Ladies and gentleman,” she said. “I’d like to introduce the next president of the United States, William Shepherd Walker.”

Ignoring Haven, Mrs. Winthrop took Shep’s arm and guided him to the center of the group gathered around a small seating area. There were about a dozen men and almost an equal number of perfectly groomed blonde trophy wives, all of whom clapped politely if unenthusiastically. Shep made his way around the group, shaking every offered hand and smiling at every possible donor.

When Mrs. Winthrop urged him to take the seat next to her, he glanced back over his shoulder and saw Haven frozen in place just inside the doorway. He’d never seen her look so uncertain. He’d seen her with congressmen and governors, and had never seen her rattled even when the people around her were falling apart. She handled his father like a champ and owned every room he’d seen her walk into. He wasn’t sure what was different about this one, but he felt like an ass for leaving her standing by herself.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Winthrop. I’ve been terribly rude. Excuse me.” He didn’t wait for her reply. Crossing the room with his arm outstretched, he reached for Haven’s hand. The shaky smile she gave him cut deep. How could he have missed how she felt and what else hadn’t he noticed? “Relax,” he murmured under his breath so only she could hear. “You know more than everyone in this room combined. Help me do this.”

Her smile shifted to something almost predatory. He knew her well enough to know his call for help would have a greater impact on her nerves than any reassurances he could offer. Haven worked. She was all action and accomplishment. She didn’t rest on something someone else built; she went out and built it herself. Better.

She nodded and he drew her into the center of the group, leading her to the seat next to the wealthy hostess. He might be a fool, but he wasn’t fool enough to risk sitting beside Haven on the loveseat in front of a room full of witnesses.

“Let me introduce my brilliant campaign manager and one of the main reasons I will win in the fall. Mrs. Winthrop, I’d like you to meet Haven Graham.”

The other woman’s brow momentarily creased before her manners took over and she reached for Haven’s offered hand. “It’s lovely to meet you, darling,” she said.

“The pleasure is mine,” said Haven. Her skin flushed just enough to let Shep know she was still battling her nerves but confident this time she was winning.

She nodded as the others introduced themselves and he couldn’t help but notice the older men expressed far more interest in his gorgeous campaign manager than they had in him.

“Why don’t you tell us about your plans for this great country of ours?” said Mrs. Winthrop after all the introductions had been repeated.

“Of course, ma’am,” he said, smiling at her. “First, let me thank you for hosting this evening in your lovely home. We spend a great deal of time and even more of our money fighting wars in places where the benefit to us is nebulous at best and at worst unknown.”

A low rumbling made its way around the group and Shep hurried on before he lost them. His party’s establishment didn’t want to be lectured on the evils of foreign oil and international business. Not when so many of them had so much money tied up in the cause.

“I’m in no way proposing we step down from our role as the world’s remaining super power. I’m simply suggesting we put more of our resources and our energy into rebuilding our domestic infrastructure. The bridge collapse in Vermont is just the most recent example of what we all know are our overtaxed systems.”

He used overtaxed, hoping the familiar word might help his audience forget for a moment that what he was talking about was perilously close to what the Socialist guy said a couple of election cycles ago. He could tell by their expressions; they still weren’t with him, but they hadn’t shut him down either.

“There is a way for us to direct our energy here at home and even more importantly, to jump-start our economy. There is good to be done, gentlemen.” He paused to glance at their lined faces, making sure to make eye contact with each of them before finishing his sentence. “And a great deal of money to be made doing it.”

His audience relaxed a little in their chairs and as his daddy used to say, they were off to the races.

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S
HEP DIDN’T THINK the night could have gone any better. He’d have to wait for the final tally from Travis when the money came in but even a fraction of what he’d been promised would be enough to make some real headway. Haven had been spectacular. After she finally relaxed, she’d stepped into the role of his partner as seamlessly as if she’d been made for him. Aside from the fact that he’d had to resist the urge to deck more than one old guy for the way they eye fucked her, it had been almost perfect.

“How’d we do?” Haven asked when they were behind the tinted windows of the SUV again.

“We did good. You were fantastic. Much better than Travis.”

He reached for her hand, stopping himself before he caught her fingers and raised them to his lips to brush a kiss over her knuckles. Neither his driver nor his bodyguard would say a word to anyone about what they saw. He didn’t doubt it for a moment. But if they knew he and Haven had been lovers, they’d think less of her. They’d assume she wasn’t as talented as she was, that he didn’t owe her for the campaign’s success. They’d assume she got where she had on her back, not her merit, and he couldn’t stand the idea of anyone thinking about her that way. It was the same thing that kept his nerves on edge all night every time one of the old guys gave him a knowing
you lucky bastard
look. The fact that he had every intention of getting her in his bed as soon as possible didn’t change anything.

“Travis couldn’t pull off this dress,” she said, grinning playfully. “He doesn’t have the back for it.”

He couldn’t say any of the things he was thinking so he settled for a barely audible growl.

“Seriously, though, was it worth it? I never heard you talk about your platform in such a mercenary way.”

“Did it bother you?” he asked, genuinely interested.

He knew he wasn’t as good as she believed he was, but he hated the idea of disappointing her. He also understood his party elites well enough to know they were much more comfortable parting with their money if they believed they’d earn even more of it back eventually. They didn’t mind waiting. Those kinds of fortunes weren’t time sensitive. They just needed to believe it would happen. He’d tried to walk a very fine line.

“No, not really. It was just different than the way you usually talk. Feeding the world and all that stuff.”

He searched her face in the dim light, but he couldn’t see her expression clearly enough to read her.

“I didn’t lie. Everything I said was either the truth or a plausible projection.”
Plausible projection—there was a phrase to pin your idealism on.

“Relax, Walker. I’m not naïve, and I’m not accusing you of anything.” Her hand strayed across the leather of the bench seat until her pinky brushed his. If he’d been looking for an invitation, he’d just found it. He hooked her pinky with his and that simple touch was enough to set his heart hammering in his chest.

“I’m glad it worked out the way you wanted,” she said, her voice sounding breathy in the dark.

He wanted to touch her, to see how far he could push her now that she’d opened the door for him, but he could wait until they were alone. Until they could be honest with each other instead of so very careful.

The short drive to the hotel only took a few minutes, but it felt like an hour. He wanted her so much he ached with it and if there was a chance for them to be together, he’d take it. Even if it was just for a night, he’d take whatever pieces of Haven he could get and hold onto her for as long as he was able. As they neared the hotel, she pulled her hand free and dug her phone out of her small bag. He tried to pretend he didn’t miss the small touch of her finger against his but he couldn’t convince himself. The screen glowed green in the dim interior as she sent a quick message and then he heard the sound of the phone powering off.

“Everything okay?” he asked, wanting to know who she texted but not wanting to look like a needy chick.

“I let Justin know I made it back okay and that I was headed to my room alone.” She pitched her voice low so only he would hear her.

His hand tightened reflexively against the seat. He didn’t want to think he’d misread the situation so badly and then she whispered the words that changed everything.

“If I lie to him now, I won’t have to do it later.”

H
E DIDN’T TOUCH HER AS they walked through the lobby, not even to steady her elbow when she stumbled on a loose bit of carpet. He didn’t put a hand on her in the elevator, didn’t touch the small of her back, didn’t guide her down the hallway. The air felt heavy between them, as if a current linked the two of them. He didn’t trust himself to touch her. Not without exploding the charge between them. Not without taking everything he wanted from her. Not until they were behind closed doors.

By unspoken agreement, Shep followed her to her hotel room door. He glanced around to make sure the hallway was empty and then he followed her inside. He lasted until the door clicked shut behind them and then all the feelings he’d been holding back, all the want and need, came pouring out of him. He reached for her and she was there already, stepping into his arms, meeting him with her own hunger.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, tugging at the pins he’d wanted to loosen all night. The soft brown waves tumbled over his hands as he anchored her head in place. Slanting his mouth over hers, he kissed her, a brush of his lips over hers that promised as much as it took. He was drowning, lost in the scent of her, lost in her taste. He licked along the seam of her lips, groaning when she fitted her mouth to his, breathing him in, breathing with him. Everything in his world narrowed to the single point of Haven’s lips against his, Haven in his arms while he showed her with his lips what he hadn’t been able to tell her in words.