Bedroom Diplomacy(4)

“Of course.”

“I understand that you have something of a reputation as a womanizer.”

“I do?”

“I don’t mean to imply that I would hold that against you,” the senator said. “How you lead your life is your business.”

Colin wouldn’t deny that he had dated his share of women, but he was no cad. He never dated a woman without first making it absolutely clear that he was in no hurry to settle down, and he never promised exclusivity.

“Sir, this so-called reputation of mine sounds a bit hyperbolic.”

“You’re young, in your prime, and I don’t fault you for playing the field.”

Colin sensed an unspoken “however” at the end of that sentence.

“Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t even bring it up, but I’ve welcomed you into my home for an extended stay, and I should make it clear that there are certain ground rules I expect you to follow.”

Ground rules?

“My daughter can be very…impulsive and in the past has been a target for unscrupulous men who think they can use her to get to me. Or simply just use her.”

“Sir, let me assure you—”

He held up a hand to stop him. “It’s not an accusation.”

It certainly felt like one.

“That said, I must insist that as long as you’re staying in my home, you are to consider my daughter off-limits.”

Well, it didn’t get much more direct than that.

“Can I count on you to do the right thing, son?”

“Of course,” Colin said, unsure if he should feel slighted or amused or if he should pity the senator. “I’m here to work on the treaty.”

“Well, then,” the senator said, “Let’s get to work.”





Two


After a long day of collaboration with the senator that was encouragingly productive, and dinner out with him and several of his friends, Colin found a quiet, dark corner by the pool to relax. It was blessedly out of view of the mansion, and the only place that he felt truly alone on the estate. And he needed his alone time. He stretched out in a lounge chair and gazed up at a clear, star-filled sky while he sipped a glass of the senator’s finest scotch.

When his phone rang he was surprised to see his sister’s number flash across the screen. It was only 5:30 a.m. in London.

“You’re up early,” he said in lieu of a hello.

“Mother’s having a rough night,” she told him, “so I was up watching television. I just wanted to check in and see how you’re enjoying your stay there.”

“It’s been…interesting.”

He told her about the senator’s warning, and at first she was convinced he was joking.

“It’s the God’s honest truth,” he assured her.

“Her father actually told you that she’s off-limits?”

“In those exact words.”

“How unbelievably rude and tactless!”

“Apparently I have a reputation with the ladies.”

With Rowena’s flame-red hair and striking, emerald-green bedroom eyes, he couldn’t deny that under different circumstances he would have been interested. Very interested. But he was more than capable of resisting a beautiful woman.

“Maybe you should come home,” Matty said.

She meant to London, of course, and though he’d spent most of his recovery there, it hadn’t felt like home any more than it had when he was a child. Home to him was boarding school, then later whichever country he’d been stationed in.

“You’ve been through so much, and you’re still healing,” Matilda insisted. Twenty years his senior, she had always been more of a parent than a sibling. But more so after the helicopter crash. Yes, he was lucky to be alive, but dwelling on the past was counterproductive. The worst of his wounds had healed and he needed to get on with his life. Not that he could ever expect to forget completely, nor would he want to. He was proud of his service and honored to defend his country. Deep down he would always be a warrior.

“I know you’re doing this for the family’s sake,” Matilda said, “but, Colin, politics? It’s so…beneath you.”

Having spent most of her life distanced from the royal family and isolated from the real world, Matilda couldn’t truly grasp the need for the treaty. “I need to do this. The family’s privacy has been violated countless times, our reputation damaged. This has to stop. We need the treaty.”

“I’m just worried about you,” she said. “Are you staying warm?”

He laughed. “I’m in Southern California, Matty. It doesn’t get cold here.” Unlike Washington, where he’d made a brief stop before flying to the West Coast. There the bitter wind and subzero temperatures seeped into his bones, reminding him, with aches and twinges, that he had a while to go before he was fully recovered.