Saving Liberty (Kissing #6) (12 page)

She shook her head. “I hate him.” Then she turned to me... and hesitated. I frowned: I’d expected her to just say
he’s a douche
or something, but this felt like something more. Then she bit her lip and I got it:
this is the first time she’s told anyone about it.
She’d chosen me to trust and that felt really good.

She took a deep breath. “He’s trying to turn the country into a police state.”

“The Guardian Act?” I hadn’t really been following it. I don’t have a lot of time for politics. “It’s just some extra security: military guys to back up the police.
Police state’s
a little strong.”

She shook her head and sighed. “This is the problem. It
sounds
harmless. By the time anyone sees what he’s really doing, it’ll be too late. It’s not going to be just a handful of extra guys on patrol whenever there’s a big football game on. We’re talking about a huge military presence,
permanently,
right across the US.
Tens of thousands
of soldiers.”

I frowned. “C’mon, he
wants
that many but he won’t
get
that many. The Army couldn’t spare—”

She huffed. “When Kerrigan talks about the military, he doesn’t mean the armed forces. He means private military contractors:
his own
private military contractors, from his old company!”

“
Rexortech?”
My stomach twisted. Some private military contractors were great—ex-military guys who’d done their time and then moved into the private sector. But I’d run into Rexortech’s people a few times in Iraq and they were very, very different: little more than thugs with guns. Rexortech were known for taking almost anyone who applied, stuffing them into a uniform and handing them a rifle. And the results, at least in my experience, had been about what you’d expect: I’d heard reports of unlawful killings, corruption, even rapes and connections with human traffickers. The idea of those guys on US streets, with authority over citizens, made me want to throw up.

I stood there, my face probably turning a nasty shade of green, while she laid out the rest: the facial recognition cameras and the legal changes in the bill that would allow unlimited detention and interrogation of “suspects.” It would take billions of dollars in manpower, surveillance tech and computers... and of course Rexortech would be the lead contractor. When he quit office, Kerrigan could return to being CEO... and he’d immediately be one of the richest men on the planet.

As she filled me in, I saw some of Emily’s old spark return. It was the first time I’d seen her really fired up about something since the park and it felt amazing. She was still terrified, but she cared so much about this she was able to push back the fear, if only for a moment.

When she’d finished, I wanted to knock my head against a wall: this whole thing had been happening right in front of me, played out on the nightly news, and I’d barely noticed. And the few times I had paid attention, I’d actually thought it sounded like a good idea: anything that made life more difficult for the terrorists was good, right? “I’m an idiot,” I muttered grumpily. I felt like a big dumb ox, next to her.

But then Emily’s face softened. “You’re not an idiot. You’re a patriot. Kerrigan’s good at playing on that.” She held my gaze for a second and I felt a little less dumb. A look passed between us: I was on her side, now, and that felt good.

“What about your dad?” I asked. “I mean, no way is he going to let this come to pass.”

She shook her head... but doubtfully. “A month ago, no way. But since the attack, he’s been under
a lot
of pressure. The media started off giving both sides, but they’re leaning more and more Kerrigan’s way. And it’s tough for the grassroots protestors to fight: they try to organize a march or a rally and people scream that they’re supporting terrorists. Plus, Kerrigan’s smart: he’s made some powerful political friends. I’ve heard him talking to senators, promising Rexortech factories in their state if they’ll back him.”

I tilted my head to one side. “You’re eavesdropping on him?”

She flushed and looked at the floor. “Not eavesdropping. Just... you know, it’s easy for me to overhear things. I kind of blend into the background, around here. People don’t really notice me.”

That made a hot pulse of anger stab up inside me. I put a finger under her chin and gently lifted it so that she was looking up at me. “They should,” I said quietly.

And then I was looking down into those big green eyes and I felt myself sliding inexorably as I leaned down to kiss her….

Emily

I drew in a shaky breath as Kian leaned down towards me, his big body hulking over me. I tilted my head back, my eyes began to flicker closed—

And then he was drawing back sharply and looking away, refusing to meet my eyes. He took a full step back and cleared his throat. “Will you, um... be needing me before tonight, ma’am?” He asked.

I stood there gaping. Had I just imagined that he’d been about to kiss me? I waited until he finally looked at me: no, I could see it in his eyes. He was giving me a look that sent heat rippling down my body to pool at my groin. He
did
want me. But he was holding back.

And realization hit me, making my cheeks go hot.
What are you doing?! He’s your bodyguard!
I looked away as well. “No, Kian.”

“Then I’ll see you later, ma’am.” And he strode over to the door and was gone before I could stop him... or maybe before he could change his mind.

I closed the door and leaned my forehead against it while I tried to make sense of it all. I wanted to scream in frustration. God, he was gorgeous... on a whole different level and in a whole different way to Senator Giggs’ bland good looks.
Dangerous. Exciting.
And ironically, it was seeing Kian get all worked up about Senator Giggs that had cemented my belief that the dark-haired giant was into me.
Into me
in a way no one ever had been: he permanently looked as if he wanted to rip my clothes off.

And he was
angry.
Thick, dark rage bubbling away just under the surface, always ready to explode. I’d heard about his “outbursts” from Miller: it had been one of the many arguments he gave for not wanting to reinstate him. But now I’d seen Kian’s rage for myself and it didn’t scare me: I couldn’t imagine him ever hurting me. In fact, the thing that seemed to make him angriest of all was when someone threatened me. What I wanted was to help him...
heal
him. I got the feeling that anger came from pain, the same deep scarring that made him keep pulling away from me. Could I ever get to know him well enough that he’d let me in?

Even if I could, it didn’t change the fact that he was my bodyguard. If people started to suspect something was going on between us, the Secret Service would kick him out faster than we could blink and I didn’t want to see that happen. Already, both my mom and Kerrigan probably had suspicions. We were going to have to start being a
lot
more careful.

Because if Kian wasn’t around... he wouldn’t be able to protect me. And already, I was addicted to the feeling of safety he gave me. It was like cool, clean air after a solid month of stifling imprisonment. Whenever he was by my side, especially when he touched me, I felt like the old me again.

And that wasn’t all that happened when he touched me. Right alongside that feeling of security there was the constant, electric sexual tension. Just being close to him made it difficult to focus on anything else. I’d never felt anything like it
,
never felt my whole body thrum to a silent rhythm whenever he was around, longing for him,
aching
for him. There was something about Kian, a raw maleness that the guys I’d known before just didn’t have. He looked great in a suit, but he might as well be a spruced-up caveman for all he had in common with the political types I knew. I was used to bullshit and mind games but with Kian there was none of that, just the sense that, if his self-control wavered even a little, he’d throw me down on the nearest available flat surface and—

I slowly turned, pressing my back to the door. To feel safe, I needed him close to me. To avoid screwing things up for both of us, I had to keep him at arm’s length.

Maintaining that balance was going to be impossible.

Emily

I didn’t see him for several hours, until it was time to go to the reception. He knocked on my door and I opened it wide. “Okay,” I said, checking my purse to see that I had everything. “I think I’m ready. Let’s head over to the—” I looked up and broke off. Kian was standing there just staring at me. “What?” I looked down at myself. Had I spilled nail polish all over myself or something? I couldn’t see anything wrong. I checked Kian again, but he was still just standing there. “
What?”
I asked again.

He took a deep, slow breath. “Nothing, ma’am.” he said. “I just haven’t seen you…”—he lifted a hand to indicate me—”like that.”

I looked down at myself again and realized it was the first time he’d seen me dressed up for the evening. In the park, I’d been in a summer dress. Since then, I’d been in a blouse and skirt. Now, I was in high heels and a deep green cocktail dress: it wasn’t too low cut (there’d be an outcry if the President’s daughter was seen in anything the media could call
slutty)
but now I looked at it, it did show quite a lot of leg. And I was beginning to realize Kian had a thing for my legs.

I flushed. No one had ever had a thing about any part of me.

“Okay,” I said again. “Let’s go.” I stepped out into the hallway, Kian followed me and—

We both did it at the same time. I raised my arm to slip it through his and he crooked his elbow to offer a loop and it was only when we were just about to do it that we both froze... looked at each other... and quickly dropped our arms and looked away. I flushed again.
Idiot!
He was my bodyguard, not my date! But it had just felt so right, so natural, with him in the suit and me in the cocktail dress, and him picking me up to go out….

And
he’d
made the same mistake. The implications of that made my chest go tight.

Then we were walking down the hallway, eyes front, not daring even to touch. And that gave the fear a chance to come back.

It started in my stomach, a sensation like falling. A gathering, sickening blackness that swallowed me up from the inside, draining my spirit until I felt tiny and weak. Down at the end of the hallway, I saw my dad and the Secret Service detail gathering and I felt my steps slow. One of the agents glanced at me and spoke in a low voice to Miller, who was going to be heading up the detail tonight. Miller gave me a reassuring smile. In fact, all of them did. Everyone was being so
nice
and understanding but I knew that all of them were on edge after how I’d freaked out last time. None of them wanted to get reprimanded because the President’s daughter went loco again and they handled it badly. I could feel the pressure piling up and up: I didn’t want to let anyone down. “They must hate me,” I muttered under my breath.