Nodding, Clay shuffled through the file, barely glancing at the various photos and clippings. “And the coverage on all the news channels. Your take?”
“You should have a nice bump in the next poll, especially in that all-important women’s vote. They’ll see you as heroic and dashing now. Let’s face it, you’re already the most eligible bachelor inside or outside the Beltway, and we all know you’ve got the Barron good looks.” He chuckled. “Tates are more handsome, but you Barrons aren’t bad.”
Boone reflexively caught the pen Clay tossed at him then sobered. “In all seriousness, now you have that intangible mystique that will draw women. I’m sorry Georgie got caught in the middle, but those protesters did you a huge favor.”
Clay growled under his breath. He, too, hated what had happened to Georgie. Her tears just about undid him. He couldn’t deal with tears. Hadn’t since— He cut off that thought, only to have it replaced by the memory of cradling Georgie in his arms—with very little between them. He’d wanted to take care of her. And maybe a little more. Doing so would have been taking advantage of a bad situation. He was not his father or his younger brothers. He could keep his libido in check.
The curves he discovered when he’d held her had been a surprise, and seeing her in that cute, if rather prim, red lingerie left no doubts. He halted that train of thought and reminded himself that Georgie was...Georgie. She dealt with the press, wrote his speeches and corralled a large portion of his staff. Boone was his right hand and she might as well be his left. Clay kept reminding himself of that. She was his employee, even if thoughts of her made him shift in his desk chair looking for a more comfortable position. Unlike his father, he didn’t dip his pen in company ink.
“Is she still asleep?” Clay needed to see her, talk to her.
“Don’t think so, but she’s not coming out of her room.”
“Have you spoken to her?”
“No.”
Was Boone fidgeting? “Spit it out, cuz.”
Boone stepped fully into the study and closed the door before dropping into a side chair. He put on what Clay called his “headmaster” face before asking, “What happened last night?”
“Happened?”
“Yeah. What went on between you and Georgie while I was packing up her stuff and replacing what had been ruined?”
“That’s none of your business, Boone.”
“It is if it affects the operation of your office. The two of you spent a lot of time in the bathroom. Alone. With the door shut.”
Leaning back in the chair, Clay studied the man he trusted maybe even more than his own brothers. He weighed the pros and cons of disclosure and finally told Boone about their encounter in the bathroom.
“Ah...okay. Yeah. I can see why she’s avoiding us this morning, especially given the publicity. Speaking of which, what in the world possessed you to pick her up?”
That was one question Clay hadn’t asked himself. “I was right there. It just seemed...prudent.”
Boone’s face scrunched into a disbelieving scowl. “Prudent? Dude, there’s not enough preplanning and money in the world to pay for that visual so I’m not complaining, but one of the security team could have caught her.” He arched a brow. “Of course, I’m still trying to figure out why you were holding her hand in the first place.”
Why had he continued to hold her hand? Clay questioned his motivation, ignoring the heat flushing his skin—color he hoped Boone didn’t see. He’d held her hand because he wanted to, but he wasn’t about to explain that to his cousin. “It just seemed like...” Like what? Like her hand fit in his? Like he felt protective? Like she needed him? Him. Not Hunt. Not Boone. Not anyone but him. “Like the right thing to do. She was upset. She’s a valued member of my staff.”
“Oh. So you would have done the same for anyone on staff?”
Clay ignored the other man’s smirking grin. “Except you. I’d let you face-plant. What are you getting at?”
“You need to be ready for the media. Georgie needs to be prepared, too. Just sayin’.”
“Fine. I’ll talk to her so we’re on the same page. What time are we scheduled to fly back to DC?”
Boone checked his watch. “You have a meeting there at four.” He appeared to be mentally checking the flight time. “We need to leave the hotel within the hour. I’ll notify Hunt and Georgie.”
Nodding absently, Clay continued to stare out the window. “I’ll sit with Georgie on the plane so we can talk.”
Unless he was in full campaign mode, he traveled light where personnel was concerned. There would be plenty of room to spread out in the jet for the flight back to DC. He could visit with Georgie with less chance of being overheard. Not that he planned to say anything the others couldn’t hear; he just wanted to reassure her. Yes, definitely reassure her. That was what he wanted to do.