Saving Liberty (Kissing #6) (18 page)

But as I watched Emily’s mom work the room, kissing cheeks and telling everyone how wonderful they looked, my stomach started to churn. This would be Emily’s future, if her mom had her way. She’d already lined Emily up with a job at one of her charitable foundations: a nice, safe career that wouldn’t rock the boat. Emily would do it to keep everyone happy... and I could imagine the fire in her eyes dying out forever as her life became nothing but fundraisers and photo opportunities. She’d be married off to some senator or CEO, playing second fiddle to them....

My hands tightened into fists. Emily shouldn’t be playing second fiddle to
anyone.

I could see she knew it, too. She’d managed to plaster a big, happy smile on her face as she was introduced to everyone but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. Guys lined up to shake her hand or lean in to kiss her cheek and I didn’t miss the lust in their eyes or the way they tried to look down her dress, even though many of them were twice her age. I wanted to kill every one of them.

I could see the weight of it all pressing down on Emily: everyone thought she was the luckiest woman in the world: after all, she had
everything...
except the choice to do what she wanted and marry who she chose.

“Emily,” called her mom. “Senator Giggs is here.”

I caught Emily rolling her eyes. I managed not to laugh, but a warm little bomb went off in my chest.
She doesn’t like that asshole after all.

“Come on,” she muttered to me. “Let’s get it over with.”

She started through the crowd towards the main doors. I could see Senator Giggs standing there, watching us approach.
We
had to come to
him,
of course. Arrogant jerk.

I was ahead of Emily, shouldering my way through the guests to clear a path for her and not caring whose Martini I spilled. Then I felt it: cool, slender fingers grasping mine, and I automatically closed my hand around hers and squeezed.

She squeezed back, our hands hidden by the guests around us. And when she looked up at me and smiled a nervous smile, dammit if my heart didn’t skip about a dozen beats.

Don’t. Don’t do this.
Camp David had been dangerous enough, getting closer and closer and then staying in her room—I’d sat there for hours, long after I needed to, just watching her sleep. And all the while, the First Lady had been one step away from splitting us up forever.

I had to get it into my head that she wasn’t mine, could never be mine. But,
damn,
holding her hand felt good.

I faced forward just in time to walk right into a big, tuxedo-clad chest.
Shit!
Edward Kerrigan, the Vice President. I dropped Emily’s hand instantly, but the look he gave me told me he knew
exactly
what was going on.

“Sorry, Mr. Vice-President,” I said, looking at my feet. “My fault.”

He gave me the most openly patronizing look I’d ever seen in my life. It didn’t matter that I was a few inches taller, he talked to me like I was a kid he’d caught running in the halls. “Oh, that’s all right, Mr. O’Harra. I think we can cut you some slack, given how you’ve helped Emily.” He gave her a wide grin. “So good to see you out and about.”

“We were actually just on our way to see someone,” said Emily sweetly.

Kerrigan tilted his head to one side, then spoke to me as if Emily wasn’t even there. “I’m afraid Emily doesn’t share some of my views on law and order. What about you, though? I hear you were a Marine. You must understand the need to stop the bad guys before they act.”

He sounded so reasonable. He made it sound like you’d have to be an asshole to disagree with him.

“At that point, sir,” I asked, “aren’t they still innocent?”

He blinked at me but just about managed to keep his smile together. “I’m surprised at you. We’re at war, Mr. O’Harra, even if it’s a different kind of war. Terrorists, cyber-terrorists, criminal gangs... they’re all a threat to us. And sometimes, the laws that were meant to protect us just get in the way. We have to make a few sacrifices to win the fight. You’ve been to war. You must have made sacrifices.”

The anger started to circle and rise in my chest, uncoiling like a snake. I could smell blood and smoke and feel the sand on my face. If there was one thing I hated, it was politicians turning real deaths into fucking metaphors. “Plenty, sir.” I fixed the tuxedo-wearing prick with a cold stare. “But freedom wasn’t one of them.”

Kerrigan’s smile finally collapsed and I stepped around him, leading Emily on. She didn’t say anything but, as soon as our hands were hidden by the press of bodies again, she grabbed my hand and squeezed it again.

“Emily!” Senator Giggs did us the courtesy of walking the last few feet to meet us. He grabbed her waist with both hands and pulled her close, then kissed her on both cheeks. Emily gave me a warning look over his shoulder:
stay!
It was a good thing she did, because my instinct was to pull him off of her and hurl him across the room.

Giggs lowered his voice, but I have good hearing. “I’ve been thinking about you,” he murmured, and my stomach twisted into a tight knot. What if she
was
into him? She kept indicating she wasn’t, she kept sending me the clear signal she was into
me,
even if we couldn’t do a damn thing about it. But what if she was being realistic, like her mom wanted? What if I was just her fantasy, some guy to flirt with, but she knew she needed to find a guy like
this
asshole to settle down with?

“Do you want to take a walk?” Giggs asked. “The gardens are meant to be really nice.”

That knot in my stomach tightened. He was a good-looking SOB and he had money and said all the right things.
Why didn’t
I
take her on a romantic walk in the gardens? Because I’m meant to be just her bodyguard!

I’d never in my life been jealous of any other guy. I’ve sure as hell never wanted to be some swanky guy in a suit. I hated
this whole political scene. But right then, I was jealous of Giggs because he
fitted.
He could slot right into Emily’s life instead of battering clumsily up against it.

I stared at Emily, waiting for her response. She was looking over Giggs’ shoulder, maybe looking for a way out of the conversation and I assumed she was about to shake her head.

And then, out of nowhere, she turned back to Giggs and said, “That sounds lovely. Let’s go.”

They started walking, heading for the doors that led to the garden, and all I could do was fall in behind them like a faithful dog, the anger expanding to fill me with each step.
I thought she didn’t like him! What the hell’s going on?

Emily

Thirty Seconds Earlier

A romantic walk in the gardens, with Giggs? I couldn’t think of anything worse. Now, a few minutes alone in the warm, fragrant darkness with
Kian….

I was just about to give Giggs a polite
no
and promise to catch up with him later (hopefully, I’d be able to avoid him for the rest of the party). I looked over his shoulder, planning our escape. Kerrigan was close by, talking to someone on his cell phone. He seemed to be barely paying attention to the call, just giving monosyllabic answers to the caller while he carried on making the rounds, slapping people on the shoulders and shaking hands. “Late
,”
I heard him mutter as he passed by us. “I don’t know when.”

I was pretty sure he was on the phone with his wife—and clearly, she was just an annoyance next to the important business of networking. I hated guys like that.

Then it happened: he fished in his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a
second
phone, one that must have been set to vibrate because I hadn’t heard it ring. His smile disappeared and he ended the call with his wife immediately, not even bothering to say goodbye.

Why did he have a second phone? I watched as he answered the call. He’d moved too far away for me to hear what he said, but it looked like
wait.
He was glancing around him, cupping the cell phone to his chest. Someone he didn’t want to speak to in public.

That meant it was a call I
had
to hear. I hesitated when I remembered Kian’s warning... but if I could listen in discreetly, find out something damaging….

I didn’t want to embarrass my dad, or make Kian mad. But I was convinced something shady was going on with Rexortech, Kerrigan and The Guardian Act. I was like a dog with a bone by this point: I
had
to know.

Kerrigan started to move towards the doors that led to the gardens—he was going to find a nice, private place where he could talk openly. If I moved fast, I could follow behind him and listen. But I couldn’t just march out there on my own or it would be obvious.

I turned to Giggs. “That sounds lovely,” I told him. “Let’s go.”

Giggs’ face lit up. He took my hand and started to lead me through the crowd. Immediately, all I could think about was how different it felt. Kian’s grip had felt strong and reassuring, his fingers curled around mine for support, but with just enough quietly confident pressure to let me know I was
his.
Giggs’ palm was clammy and he held on too tight, his arm lifted a little so that everyone could see that he was holding my hand. Kian’s grip had felt wonderfully possessive; Giggs’ made me feel like a possession.

But it was working. We were now close behind Kerrigan and, when he glanced around, he just saw a happy couple off for a stroll in the gardens, not a lone woman intent on listening in. He even gave us a patronizing smirk.

We were almost to the doors when I remembered Kian.
Oh God!
I twisted around to look at him. He was following behind, staring down at our joined hands as if he could laser them apart with his gaze. When he saw me turn, he looked up and met my eyes... and I could see the hurt there.

He didn’t know I was just faking. And I couldn’t explain, not in front of Giggs.

Worse, we’d reached the doors. Trying to maneuver two of us close enough to Kerrigan to listen was going to be hard enough. Three would be impossible. “I’ll be fine,” I told Kian. “You wait here.”

Kian gave me an angry, disbelieving look. “I’d better come, ma’am.”

Giggs put a hand on Kian’s chest. “I’ll take good care of her.”

Kian looked down at the hand as if wondering whether to snap it off at the wrist or the elbow. A few weeks earlier, I don’t think he would have been able to restrain himself, but he just bristled and looked to me for a decision.

“It’s okay, Kian,” I said. It felt as if I was stamping on his heart. “You stay here.”

And I led Giggs out into the darkness.

“What’s
his
problem?” muttered Giggs.

Shut up, asshole!
“He’s just a little overprotective,” I said.

Giggs glanced back to where Kian stood, the light from the party silhouetting him in the doorway. “You think maybe he has a thing for you?” He chuckled as he said it, to show how ridiculous that would be, and I wanted to slam my purse into his head. The fear was starting to come back, too, slithering in from the edges of my mind as soon as Kian wasn’t there to hold it back.

Find Kerrigan.
I had to focus on that and do it fast, before I freaked out. My chest was aching at the thought that I’d just trampled all over Kian’s feelings, but, if I’d hurt him, I at least wanted it to mean something. I looked all around us and strained my ears. There were a few other people outside, but most of them had stayed close to the building where the light spilled out onto the patio. I couldn’t see Kerrigan anywhere and for a moment I thought this whole thing had been in vain.

If it wasn’t for the gravel, I wouldn’t have found him. Fortunately, the garden’s designers had favored gravel paths between the high hedges and Kerrigan’s heavy footsteps made plenty of noise. He was heading directly away from the party, into the darkness—as I’d suspected, he wanted somewhere private.

I tugged on Giggs’ hand and led him down a path that ran parallel to Kerrigan’s. He grinned as he fell into step beside me.
Oh God, now he thinks I’m eager!
I sighed under my breath and hurried onward, trying to go fast but quietly.  When I heard Kerrigan stop, I pulled hard on Giggs’ hand to bring him to a halt, too. Kerrigan was now only a few feet away, separated by a hedge. I held my breath and strained my ears....