"How about a change of scenery then? I'm going to turn us in just a minute, after which you'll see a woman wearing a bright red dress and lipstick to match. You can't miss her. That's Eleanor Byrd."
The woman with whom Rex had had his career-ending affair. "She's married to Grant Hardy, the Secretary of the Interior?"
"The one and only," he said, maneuvering so she had the promised view. "He's well-liked. Her, not so much … especially now." He left the reason unsaid, but it was evident. The fact Grant Hardy was well-known was especially notable considering he held an office with which few members of the general public were greatly familiar. When presented with a beloved public figure and a cheating spouse, people tended to take sides. That in turn made it personal for them, even when it wasn't.
Eleanor's affair with Rex had been a huge embarrassment for everyone involved-apparently even Rex, who was closing out the night as a no-show.
"I can't believe your mother invited her," Chloe said of Eleanor.
Knox shrugged. "Grant is a close family friend. She couldn't very well leave him off the list, and naturally Eleanor is his plus one."
"What does she do for a living?"
"She's an environmental impact analyst."
Interesting. "So she would get a vote if, say, a controversial project threatened environmental interests?"
"Yes. She's not with the Environmental Protection Agency, though. It's a private firm. Emerson Environmental, I think."
Emerson … Chloe had seen the name in Pactron's file. It didn't have to mean anything, but she found it curious Rex had a recreational affiliation with a woman whose company had aligned opposite his staunch political interests. From what she remembered, Pactron had been one of his few well-publicized failures. First Harold, then Eleanor.
And the plot thickens.
"Is Rex coming?"
"Considering it's almost midnight, I'd think not."
"Kind of a public snub, isn't it?"
"I'm not worried about that-he'll spin it so he looks good-but it doesn't bode well for his whole reformed-family-man resignation spiel."
"Is he backing you for office?"
Knox's step hitched, but he quickly recovered. Had it been her question, or was the timing a coincidence? "Of course." He lowered his head-and his voice-and elaborated. "His favorite mantra is that I'll never be the man he is, but in light of recent events, one can only hope he's right."
The song ended before she could tell him his father was the worst kind of jackass. How could Knox's father be anything less than proud of the man Knox had become?
She'd never met Rex, although they'd been in the same place a number of times, but she already held an intense dislike for a man so obviously callous. She wished Knox was as detached as he tried to appear, but she could see from the tension in his jaw that that wasn't the case. She hated to think he could ever feel less of a man because of his father. If anything, Knox was more of a man despite Rex's influence.
Though the music had ended, Knox still held her. So many important people in the room-people who really could change his life-and he had eyes for only her. She could lose herself in them. She already had more with him than most women experienced in a lifetime, but she still ached for what he refused to give her. Why can't you be real?
"You know what I want to do when I get you home?" His breath tickled her ear.
The sensation shot straight to her belly. "If it involves a new addition to the conservatory, I don't want to know."
"Wrong room," he said.
Her breath caught. She skipped the logical question for one less loaded. "What room did you have in mind?"
"The bedroom," he said. "If we make it that far."
…
As much as Knox didn't want to want to get his hands-and other parts-on Chloe, he could relish the wait if it meant watching the expression provoked by his words play across her face. Emotion transformed in kaleidoscope fashion, from shock to a hint of suspicion to something from which he might want to duck and run for cover, but she landed on desire.
She wanted him, and she didn't seem shy about letting him know it.
Though Knox wasn't sure Chloe believed it, he hadn't doubted for a minute she could handle his crowd. The woman was amazing. She had to know every eye in the place was on her. His wife … she'd turn heads any day, but as a woman whose name and face were completely unfamiliar to nearly everyone there, the scrutiny had to be brutal.
And she hadn't missed a step.
Granted, he'd kept her to himself as much as he could. That might have been the wrong thing to do, but it couldn't have been any worse than throwing her into the arena without backup. Knox had grown up around those people-different names and faces over the years but much the same crowd. Not only was he used to them but they didn't bat an eyelash over him. But Chloe … he couldn't explain what it was about her. He wouldn't call it innocence … Maybe it was just that she didn't give a damn about what most people thought-a rarity in circles where the world seemed to revolve around peer opinion-or maybe she was just so comfortable in her own skin she didn't worry enough to adopt pretenses. She didn't have anything to prove to anyone, and that confidence-however it was born-shone.
He had never, ever been so proud to have a woman on his arm. She was so natural-so gracious and funny and smart-that she had some of the most powerful men in Washington staring after her, doe-eyed. But she was his, and he wanted to make damn sure they all knew it.
She hadn't seemed to mind-hell, if her ability to play the part of his adoring wife was any indication as to her talent, the woman was Emmy-bound. She'd simply melded into him on the dance floor, probably not the least bit aware Knox had given the evil eye over her shoulder to any man who got too close.
The night had been perfect … almost.
"You're upset Rex didn't come, aren't you?"
She didn't bring it up until they were alone, settled in the back of the limo with a bottle of strawberry champagne and the bonsai tree he'd given her.
"How did you know?"
"When you talked about him earlier, it was the only time all night you didn't look at me when you spoke." She offered a small smile. "I probably shouldn't have asked. It was hardly the time or place."
He reached for her hand. The diamonds sparkled brightly in the dim light. He still couldn't believe she'd said yes. Don't take it personally. It's not like there isn't something in it for her. "My relationship with Rex is hard to explain. I lost respect for him a long time ago, but there's a part of me that still wants to make him proud. It's like the ultimate prize … earning approval from a man whose made it clear he's not going to give it."
She tightened her fingers on his. "It's also futile."
He shrugged. "I guess there's always that kid inside who wants to feel he's doing something right."
"I'm sure your mother thinks you are."
He laughed. "Of course she does, but that's what mothers do. Rex … not so much. He backs me publicly for his seat, but as soon as the doors close and the cameras shut down, he's right back to that same old mantra-that I'll never be the man he is."
"I'd consider that a win." Chloe's eyes shone, so much so that he wondered if they'd filled with tears.
He wiped a thumb across her cheek, and she smiled. "You were perfect tonight."
"I'll settle for the reassurance I neither embarrassed you nor ruined your campaign."
"No need to settle there. You kicked ass, even with your crooked eye and bad hair."
"Knox!" She swatted at him with her free hand, and he took full advantage of her momentum by pulling her against his chest. When she opened her mouth to protest, he was ready, quickly pressing for entry.
She granted it. She pursued it.
He couldn't breathe for the taste of her. The woman had never given herself to him without her whole heart, but this he felt to his toes. It was the kind of kiss that came with flinging clothes and slapping skin-primal and inescapable. And whatever she was doing to his tongue promised devastation.
He had the barest grip on the fact they were still in the limo, albeit with the privacy partition in place, but even as he fought for restraint, he was calculating how much time they had before they got home. The urge to thoroughly rock her world was seriously undermined by the effect she had on him. The light touch of her fingertips at his nape, the sleek expanse of her thigh exposed by the trek of his hand, the taste of the strawberry champagne-she was everything, and he was just as much a fool for thinking it as he was for denying it.
But he'd worry about that later. This … this was what the wedding night should have been. Polite conversation and gracious nods to well-wishers, when all he wanted was to get her home and naked as quickly as possible. But to bide his time, he had the soft, sweet taste of her lips and the unruly tangle of their mouths and limbs, all an unbearable precursor to what would happen when he had her alone. He couldn't wait to strip her of that dress-to remove whatever invisibility held her hair off her neck and plunge his fingers through those carefree strands, holding on for dear life while he drove into her. He'd lose another piece of himself-one he'd never get back-but at this point he was willing to let go of everything to feel her. To be inside her.