The Candidate, page 11
“Get out of my way, Alex.”
“No.”
Jane tried to push past her, but she was no match for Alex, who probably had a good thirty pounds on her. They struggled, Jane pushing and pulling to try to free herself. Finally, Alex wrapped her in a bear hug, and still Jane squirmed and fought like a desperate animal caught in a trap. They were both breathing hard, both straining with all their strength, but Alex was winning an inch at a time, pulling them both away from the door. Momentum finally landed them on the bed. They were still locked together, Jane on top. Alex expertly rolled them over so that she was on top, and pinned the bucking woman beneath her.
“Goddammit, Jane.” She was forced to pin Jane’s arms at the wrists and use her superior weight and strength to keep Jane beneath her. “Stop it. Stop fighting me.”
Jane suddenly went still, except for her rapidly rising and falling chest. Her face was beet red and still full of anger. She stared, unblinking, at Alex, still hell-bent.
“Jane, listen to me. I am not letting you up until you calm down and realize that you are not going anywhere tonight.”
Jane said nothing, but she was clearly seething. Alex would simply wait her out. It was several tense moments before she felt Jane’s breathing grow shallower and her muscles begin to relax. Resisting was exhausting business.
“You can’t leave me, Alex,” Jane finally said softly, her voice trembling, her face collapsing in anguish. “You’re the only agent I’ve ever let get this close to me. The only one I ever will. I’ll be in more danger if you don’t stay.”
“No, Jane. Don’t do that to me.”
“No, Alex. Don’t you do this to me, damn you.” Anger reared up again.
Alex pressed her body more firmly into Jane’s. She stared hard into Jane’s eyes, which were growing more watery by the second. It was the first time she’d ever seen such fear there, and it startled her. No, she could not leave this woman. She would not.
Jane’s body finally went limp beneath her, the fight mercifully extinguished. Alex loosened her grip from Jane’s wrists, but still pressed down with her body. “Jane, darlin’,” she said. “I won’t leave you.”
Jane threw her arms around Alex’s neck, burying her face in her shoulder, and Alex felt Jane’s body softly trembling beneath her. She held Jane patiently, gently. She inhaled the sweet perfume of Jane’s hair, her skin, the faint smell of brandy, and tried hard to forget they were lying on a bed, until a jolt of fire pierced her. Jane was arching into her, breasts and pelvis pressing lightly but surely against her. Alex knew the signal well. Her hands twitched at the thought of sliding them down to Jane’s ass and pulling her even more tightly to her, until their bodies melded and moved together in frantic, sweet harmony. God! How she wanted to. Is that what Jane wanted, too? Or was she not even aware of what she was doing, of what her body was saying to Alex?
Alex knew she had to put an end to this while she still could. She began to protest when Jane suddenly pressed a finger to her lips.
“Shh. Don’t say anything, Alex.”
Only that one finger separated their mouths. Alex searched for a sign of reluctance or hesitation in Jane. Anything to stop what was happening, because her own body had begun responding. But she saw only capitulation and desire in Jane, and it both scared and thrilled her.
Alex began helplessly moving in sync with Jane’s body— slowly, sweetly pressing her pulsing, engorged crotch into Jane’s. Denim roughly caressed denim. Oh, God, Jane. I could take you right now. Loosen those buttons and press my mouth to your warm breasts, part your legs with my hand, and . . .
She pressed her mouth harder against Jane’s finger. It was almost like kissing her, and she began imagining how it would really feel. They were both breathing hard again, as if the wrestling match had reignited. A little harder and I’ll come right here in my jeans, Alex thought as she continued to respond to the body answering hers. She stifled a moan and considered the very real possibility of a furtive orgasm.
The cell phone clipped to her belt suddenly chirped to life. It took at least three rings for them both to recognize and respond to the intrusion. Alex forcefully pulled herself away from the clenching of their bodies and sat up. Fuck! Jane was hastily sitting up too.
More slowly than it should have, duty reasserted itself and Alex answered her phone.
She looked at Jane a moment later, disappointment and relief fighting an internal battle. “They caught the guy in Washington. He’s back in custody.”
Chapter 7
Jane closed her laptop computer and looked at Steph and Carter, the three of them jammed into the small office at the back of her campaign bus. Jane had spontaneously decided to have the bus and her staff meet her in Detroit before heading straight to Indianapolis. They had lost a day, maybe two, and Jane intended to make it up.
Her staff had her back on course with a town hall-style meeting that was just hours away. The three had gone over the issues Jane would address, both aides throwing questions at her that might be expected from the audience, then critiquing her responses. She’d thrown herself into the exercise with a sense of relief and satisfaction at having something tangible to occupy her mind with.
Leaning back in her seat, Jane clasped her hands behind her head. “Damn, it’s good to be back on the trail.” She liked being busy, loved the frenetic challenges of the campaign. And today, she needed it more than ever—needed to feel the normalcy of the fevered pace she’d become accustomed to. Mackinac Island had been . . . crazy. But this . . . Jane glanced happily out the diesel-blackened window at the blurring countryside. This I can handle. This is what it’s all about.
“I’m glad they caught that nutcase so soon, Jane, but I still wish you could have had more time on the island,” Steph said.
Jane shrugged and massaged her temples, where a brandy-induced headache faintly persisted. Unwelcome thoughts of the island again pulled at her, viscous and cloying, like molasses. She didn’t want to deal with the confusion and shock of what had happened there with Alex, not to mention the surreal brush— even if it was at a distance—with someone who wanted to assassinate her.
For almost twenty-four hours, Jane’s world had been knocked off its axis. What had once felt solid and sure, she now struggled to gain a foothold on. It was as though the ground were no longer there, and she didn’t like the unfamiliar territory—this feeling of slipping, of losing control of her feelings. That was why it was so important to throw herself headlong into the campaign again . . . back into what was comfortable.
“Jane?” Steph was looking intently at her. “Are you okay?”
Jane barely managed a nod. She stared back out the window and forced herself for the hundredth time to try to make sense out of the senseless. She hadn’t expected to feel such a wellspring of emotion when Alex had announced that she wanted a transfer. She’d felt surprisingly frightened and lost by the prospect of losing her. It had been a horrible time for Alex to spring it on her. She’d been so vulnerable, in her family home, talking about her family to Alex, about her feelings and fears. Damn it. She makes me want to tell her things. Everything about Alex, from her strong arms to her patient eyes, made Jane feel safe and trusting.
The bus hit a bump and the jolt momentarily dislodged the fog from Jane’s mind.
“Steph, really. I’m fine.”
The aide frowned and hesitated. “Did something happen . . . something to frighten you? I mean, besides the obvious.”
Oh, God, Alex. Jesus. Jane’s pulse quickened. She couldn’t help but remember the warmth and electricity of Alex’s body when they’d hugged, and then the taut muscles and the strength of her body as she’d held Jane down on the bed. Their heated physical exchange had somehow but very surely shifted and transformed into desire that was so pure and acute. It had nearly answered the throbbing hunger that had welled in Jane so unexpectedly.
Jane felt her stomach do a slow, painfully sweet roll. Recalling her arousal sparked tiny shock waves, even now. She had nearly come, right there against Alex. That had never happened before with another woman, or even with a man. It had been years since she had been that turned on. Jane had thought that part of her was dormant, like a field left fallow that would need careful turning and seeding before it would bear fruit again. But Alex’s rock-hard body, moving perfectly in time against hers, had quickly proved that theory wrong.
Jesus, Alex. What have you done to me?
Jane looked up, determined not to let any of her feelings or confusion show. “Nothing happened there, Steph. Everything’s fine.”
It wasn’t fine, not really. But she would make it fine. It will be fine. Jane’s chest felt heavy, as though she were sucking air through a straw. With sheer stubbornness and will, she calmed herself.
“I’m sorry, Steph. I’m just a little distracted about tonight.” She smiled. “Well, that and a little hangover.”
Steph grinned. “Good. It sounds like you did relax after all.”
“Yeah. A little.” If you call getting half-drunk and nearly sleeping with my bodyguard relaxing.
Jane knew she needed to get ahold of herself. Now. A little scare from some nutcase and some alcohol-infused alone time with Alex, and look what happens.
If only it were so easy to chalk it up to alcohol and fear. Jane was realistic enough to know she couldn’t blame it on anyone but herself. Sure, Alex was good looking and nice and charming and . . . so strong and yet so vulnerable. God, and those sweet green eyes that could melt a glacier! No. It wasn’t Alex’s fault. It was Jane who had been needy and weak. It had to stop, those raw emotions Alex seemed to tweak. She needed to get back to the grueling campaign work and focus. And to stop feeling so pathetically lonely.
“Jane?” It was Carter.
“Hmm?”
“How do you want to play the assassination attempt? It’ll be all the media will want to talk about today . . . and tomorrow and the next day.”
The question was enough to shake Jane from her introspection. “First of all, it wasn’t an assassination attempt. I was supposedly the intended target of an unstable person who got nowhere near me and who is now in police custody. That’s how we’ll play it, because that’s the way it is. It was nothing.”
“You know,” Steph suggested cautiously, “these kinds of things can really play on people’s sympa—”
“No!” Jane snapped. “I will not use this as political currency. And neither will any of you.” She pinned her aides with a piercing glare. “We are moving on from this right now.”
Jane relaxed back in her seat again. The words “moving on” reverberated in her mind, and they felt reassuring. Right. Yes, it’s time to move on.
“So, what’s on tomorrow’s agenda?” Jane asked nonchalantly.
“We have an anti-poverty breakfast in Gary, and then we’re flying to New York,” Steph answered. “You’ve got Larry King there in a little more than forty-eight hours.”
“You got me on Larry?” Jane asked, astonished. Shit. Mother must have given Steph that idea!
Steph grinned. “You’re also going to read to a first grade class in Harlem tomorrow.”
Jane drummed her fingers nervously on her desk. “You’re sure about this?”
“The school?” Steph asked innocently.
Jane threw a pen at her aide in jest.
Carter and Steph stood to leave. “You’ll be great, Jane.” Carter grinned reassuringly at her. “You’ll charm the pants off Larry. Anything else, boss?”
“I still want to go over next week’s Super Tuesday itinerary with you. After lunch?”
“Right, boss.” Carter cheerfully saluted and left.
“Steph? Can you stay behind for a second?”
Stephanie Cameron reclaimed her seat.
“Remember Keith Henderson?”
The aide smiled enthusiastically. “That tall, blond, good-looking juvenile court judge in New York? How could I forget? I’d thought maybe you and he might get something going a while back.”
“Yeah, well, there just wasn’t time,” Jane said benignly, not nearly as excited about the prospect as Steph, but he did seem like a decent guy. She was being pathetic and she knew it. Lonely and turned on and grasping at the first man she could think of for some sort of quick sexual fix. Still, she had to do something to get last night out of her system, to show herself and Alex that their brief moment had been a mistake, an aberration. “I wonder if he’s still single?” She tried to sound casual about it.
Steph shrugged, smiled and took the bait. “I’m sure I can make some discreet inquiries.”
Alex waited anxiously first for Carter, then Steph, to leave Jane’s office. She squared her shoulders stalked down the aisle of the swaying bus, not at all sure of what she was going to say to Jane, but they had to talk about what had happened between them. Alex needed to know where things stood, even if she did dread what lay ahead.
She hesitated, then rapped firmly on the door.
“Come in.”
Alex opened the door and stepped in, shutting it quickly behind her. When Jane looked up from her computer, a frown instantaneously streaked across her forehead, a faint look of chagrin darkening her eyes.
Oh, boy.
“Alex,” Jane said, a slight question in her tone.
Alex stood rooted in place. Her legs felt so heavy, she didn’t think she could move if she wanted to. Oh, Christ, what am I going to say?
“Would you like to sit down?” The question was more out of obligation than welcome, Alex could tell. Jane seemed peeved, as though Alex’s presence were an imposition.
With effort, Alex commanded her legs to move to the bolted down seat facing Jane. She would much rather have remained standing. “Jane, I . . .” Alex stalled, clasping her hands tightly together, trying to formulate her words, corral her thoughts. She hated feeling so awkward with Jane. Just last night, things had been so hot between them. Alex had been seconds away from ripping Jane’s clothes off and having her way with her . . . and she knew Jane wouldn’t have stopped her. They had wanted each other; their bodies had certainly made that clear. But now . . . Now things were so frosty between them.
“What’s on your mind, Alex?”
Besides how much you turn me on? And how much I hate how different things are between us now? Alex mentally shook herself. Clearly Jane wasn’t going to initiate the discussion. It would be up to Alex to put things right, to make sense of things for them both. There was only one thing to do. “If you want me to leave your detail, I will.” Thankfully, there was no trace in her voice of the emotions that could easily overwhelm her if she were not careful.
Jane silently contemplated Alex, her fingers steepled on the desktop, her eyes unreadable. She looked about as indifferent as a CEO who had just been handed her eighteenth business proposal of the day.
Please don’t say yes, Jane. I need to be near you. I need to be around your energy, your warmth, your beauty, your tireless ambition, your intelligence, your humor, your altruism. I need your friendship, your voice, your touch. Alex had never felt such a powerful attraction to anyone before, had never felt so affected by anyone. She hadn’t completely confessed to Jane last night just how much she meant to her, but she would now, if that’s what it took. I’ll tell her I think I’m falling in love with her . . .
“No, Alex.” Jane was looking less composed. A vague sort of sadness seemed to have quietly descended on her. “I want you to stay.”
Alex didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath. She’d been squeezing her hands so tightly, they were cramping. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Jane’s gaze slid from Alex. There was a slight tremor in her hands, and she must have noticed it at the same time as Alex. She quickly stuffed her hands beneath her desk.
Alex swallowed nervously. “I think maybe there’re some things we should—”
“No, Alex.” Jane shot her a withering look, her voice low and absolute. “I don’t want to talk about last night. Ever. I don’t know what exactly happened or why, but I do know it will never happen again.”
The sting of Jane’s words were like a slap that left Alex instantly reeling.
The anti-poverty breakfast was going even better than last night’s town hall meeting, and that was pretty damned good. Jane had found receptive, rapt audiences at each. She’d laid out more of her “Blueprint For America”—as she and now the press had dubbed it—and the crowds had eagerly approved. She talked candidly about devoting more of the federal budget to schools and food programs, health clinics for the poor, and creating jobs.
“Action in adequate measures can wait no longer,” she passionately told the morning’s audience of about five hundred people. “There are children suffering in this country, who go to school with empty stomachs and deflated spirits. It is a form of abuse, caused by institutional indifference and inaction. With resolve and action, we can change this now. We must change this now.”
Before the last of the applause had died down, Jane’s aides and a gaggle of Secret Service agents quickly descended on her and ushered her away.
“My, aren’t we in a hurry,” Jane grumbled.
“We have that plane to catch for New York,” Steph replied coolly. “And a crisis is brewing.”
Steph, Carter, Jane and her chief of staff, Jack Wilson, tucked themselves into a corner of the plane, where the aides told Jane that a couple of Web sites and blogs had popped up a few hours ago, claiming that Jane was a closet lesbian.
“Oh, hell, that’s not a crisis,” Jane said crustily, her political skin firmly intact. “That’s just entertainment.”
“I’m afraid not,” Jack said sternly. “After your stance on gay rights last week in Pennsylvania, some people will buy this crap, unfortunately.”
Jane cursed a blue streak, but only in her head. Five more minutes alone with Alex the other night, and the rumors might have been true. What had she been thinking? Had she really been willing to throw her future away over a sudden impulse?
