definitely not looking for.
Still, it was amusing.
He moved his hand away, once again in full control. “As soon as possible, Nicole,” he said with
another charming smile. “I have time today, if you do. And please, call me Tim.”
He thought the third house would suit his needs perfectly.
It was a farm, really, 97 acres situated on earth that would now be teeming with hundreds of
rows of red winter wheat if the fields had been seeded in early September. Because they had not,
the recent rainstorms had washed away much of the topsoil, leaving behind what could only be
described as a lake of mud.
The property was located just off Chamberlayne Road north of Richmond. It was a rural
community; the closest house was a half mile away, but Interstate 295, which ran east and west,
was less than 3 miles away, and I-95, which ran north to Washington, was not more than 4 miles
to his west. He turned his attention back to the one-story red brick house as they walked away
from Milbery’s Ford Escape and up the hard-packed dirt of the driveway.
“As you can see,” she was saying, “the house itself is somewhat modest, but really quite lovely. I
know it looks small, but the basement is finished and quite extensive. Perhaps the best part of all
is the privacy.”
They were inside, moving steadily through the small structure. “This is the den. Hardwood
floors in every room.” She stamped her heel lightly as if to prove her point. “Plus, a cozy little
fireplace for the cold nights that we’ve been getting. Perfect for you and… Is there a Mrs.
Nichols?”
Will Vanderveen held up his left hand, which was missing a ring on the third finger. When he
winked at her, she blushed and turned her face away.
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He looked around at the depressing surroundings. What a shit hole, he thought. He would never
have been caught dead living in such a place voluntarily, but for less than a month, he could
suffer in silence. Besides, he was interested in the property for other reasons.
“Nicole, do you think we could take a look at the barn?”
It was far more impressive than the house, a solid structure with staggered floors that followed
the contours of a gently sloping hill. Vanderveen looked around, pleased by what he saw. From
the road, only the very top of the barn could be seen, as it was located behind the house. The
interior was dry and warm. It offered an entrance on only one end, but there was a large sliding
door with a heavy lock. More importantly, the single entrance was wide enough to
accommodate a large commercial van. He kicked aside some of the straw to reveal a hard
concrete floor.
It couldn’t have been better.
He turned to ask a question and found her facing away from him, leaning over to pluck a
wayward piece of straw from the top of her shoe. He thought she had timed it well. His eyes
moved over her ass, firm beneath the short red skirt, and down the long, taut legs to the
three-inch heels she was wearing.
She removed the offending article and stood up quickly. Turning to face him, she immediately
caught his wandering gaze. A small smile played over her glossy red lips. “Do you like it?” She
was trembling with anticipation. “The place, I mean.”
He wasn’t embarrassed at all. He held her eyes and said, very quietly, “It’s perfect.”
“So you’ll be taking it, then?”
“I think you could say that, Nicole.” He was already walking toward her, slowly working the
buttons loose on his shirt. “You could definitely say that.”
It had been two days since the meeting with Director Andrews at Langley. Ryan spent the
mornings at Headquarters, but the afternoons were reserved for Katie alone. They went window
shopping in Georgetown, and for long walks hand in hand through the stark winter contrasts of
Rock Creek Park. They ate at ridiculously expensive restaurants on the Hill, and even took in a
play at Ford’s Theatre, something she had wanted to do for a long time.
It was late in the evening on the third day when they arrived at the Capital Grille, a small, elegant
restaurant on the corner of 6th and Pennsylvania. As always, Ryan felt a pleasant little jolt at the
way heads turned to follow Katie’s passage through the crowded dining area. She was wearing a
slinky black dress that ended at midthigh, and sling-back heels that perfectly accentuated her
long, slender legs. Her usual glossy pink nail polish had been replaced by a clear lacquer, and her
hair was swept up into an impossible pile that she had somehow secured with a number of silver
barrettes. Ryan thought she had never looked more beautiful.
The meal was delicious and the surroundings nothing less than spectacular. Katie was amazed
when Senator John McCain came walking through the door, immediately followed by a phalanx
of junior staffers. Ryan almost had to restrain her from jumping up to point and scream like a
giddy schoolgirl; Katie followed politics with the same degree of enthusiasm her peers reserved
for musicians and celebrities.
He wondered how she might react to the fact that he was meeting with President Brenneman in
less than a week, but decided that the reserved atmosphere of the restaurant was no place to find
out. He pictured her probable response: You’re kidding, right? You’re so full of shit, Ryan!” All
of this in a loud voice, overheard by the horrified waiters as they tried to figure out what to do.
The image caused him to laugh out loud, as did the questioning look that she shot him across the
table.
When they returned to the Hay-Adams just after midnight, the warmth of their suite was a
pleasant reprieve from the damp snow that was drifting over the city. Katie collapsed onto the
bed without kicking off her shoes, still floating from her Congressional sighting and the excellent
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’94 California chardonnay they had consumed with their meal.
“God, that place was great! This hotel is great, too. I think we should move here. There’s
nothing to do in Maine anyway. What do you think?”
“I don’t think you mean that. Besides, there’s plenty to do in Maine. You could take up fishing.”
She pouted her lips and gave him a skeptical look. “Do I look like a fisherman?”
He smiled and joined her on the bed, propping himself up on one elbow as he began to remove
the silver clasps from her hair. “No, you don’t look like a fisherman. That’s a good thing, by the
way… I’ve never found them very appealing.” She laughed a little at that. His voice took on a
different, more serious tone when he spoke again. “As long as you’re still marrying me, we can
do whatever you want, Katie.”
She looked up at him in amazement as the last clasp came free and the honey brown waves
tumbled down around her face. “Are you serious?”
A brief pause, and then he grinned. “No, I just thought it would be a romantic thing to say.”
She slapped him hard on the arm as he laughed. “I really do hate you.” But she didn’t mean it,
and couldn’t help but respond when he leaned in to steal a kiss. A few minutes later she was
sliding the straps of her dress off her shoulders as he began to explore her body, his strong
fingers running slowly down the lean curves of her back.
She moaned as his head dropped and she felt his lips grazing her breasts. She tugged at his pants
as he unsnapped her bra in a practiced motion, sliding the black lace down until it caught for an
instant on her hard nipples. Her dress slipped from the side of the bed to the floor, her fingers
wrapping tight in the sheets as she felt his mouth move on her flat stomach. She sucked in her
breath and squirmed as he kept going down…
A sound penetrated the waves of pleasure, and it took her a second to realize that it was Ryan’s
cell phone. He got to his feet and reached for it. She whispered an expletive under her breath as
he hit the TALK button and turned away from her.
“Kealey here. Yeah… Good, it’s about time. Okay, that works for me. I’ll see you then.”
She was sitting up on the bed, pulling the sheets around her body and staring at him as he cut the
connection. “Who was that?”
He hesitated, and that said it all. “Oh, I get it.” Her face changed. “It was that Naomi, right?”
“Yes, it was. Listen, I need to head out early, Katie. I might be gone when you wake up.”
“Why?” She gazed up at him with worried eyes. “Where are you going?”
“Just to Langley. It’ll be a long day, though. I might not make it back tomorrow night.” He set
the phone down and moved to join her once again. As he leaned in to kiss her, though, she
turned away. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I’m fine, really.” But Ryan couldn’t see her face or read her thoughts, and
had no way of knowing how hard his words had hit her: I might not make it back tomorrow
night.
The unfortunate double meaning of the statement served to remind her of the fear she had been
living with over the past several weeks. It had been hard enough to deal with in the first place,
but now that they were engaged, it just seemed like she had that much more to lose, because
there was the implied promise of a family and a life together that seemed so close she could
almost touch it.
She wanted to tell him how she felt, to try to make him understand. At the same time, she didn’t
want to be a burden. Katie sensed that whatever he was involved in was much more dangerous
than he was letting on, and she couldn’t help but think that the less she bothered him with her
concerns, the clearer his mind would be if he was headed into harm’s way.
Ryan was confused by her sudden change in demeanor, and automatically assumed it had
something to do with Naomi. Jesus, he couldn’t help but think. How many times do we have to
go over this? She still had her back to him. Realizing that she obviously didn’t want his company,
he wandered aimlessly over to the French doors that led out to the balcony. Pulling them open,
Ryan stepped out into the cold night air wearing nothing more than his boxers. The view below
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was spectacular, as the Federal Suite overlooked Lafayette Square and St. John’s Cathedral, the
lights below illuminating the fresh white powder that blanketed the streets.
The scene was lost on him. Instead, he was remembering something that had occurred more than
five months earlier.
They had still been getting to know one another at the time, enjoying the thrill of a new and
exciting relationship, too caught up in each other to notice any flaws. She spent the night at his
house on the Cape more often than not, although she kept a small apartment in Orono. On one
particular night, some of Katie’s friends had come over for what she called, with an impish grin,
“margaritas and a movie.” Evidently the emphasis was on margaritas, because after at least four
of the sweet frozen drinks, her best friend from Orono had made some highly suggestive
remarks about Katie’s new boyfriend, with Ryan in clear and obvious earshot.
Katie had tried to brush it off, but once her friends had gone, it was clear that she was still upset.
When he asked her what was wrong, she refused to talk about it. Finally, after a great deal of
gentle coaxing on his part, she had tearfully confessed that she didn’t think she could compete
with that particular friend for Ryan’s attention.
That incident summed up everything he loved about her: she simply didn’t know how beautiful
she was. The friend, while remarkably attractive in her own right, was plain in comparison.
Strangely enough, a large part of Katie’s allure was her complete disinterest in her own
appearance; he could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he had seen her
stand in front of a mirror for more than a few seconds. What made her modesty so remarkable
was the fact that it was completely unfounded. She was a goddess in every sense of the word, but
no matter how many times he told her so, she just scowled and told him to quit teasing her.
He loved every inch of her, from her delicate toes to the strands of gold in her hair — caught
and brought out by the sun, a rare-enough sight in Maine. The way her full lips felt on his own,
the way her cheeks had flushed when he found a book of her poetry and proclaimed it to be,
with complete sincerity, “really good,” and in response to her skeptical gaze: “Seriously!”
What really held him, though, were her eyes. They were the perfect shade of cerulean blue,
beautifully framed beneath long, dark lashes, and they changed dramatically with her mood.
Lighter when she was amused or happy, turning to deep, dark pools of indigo in moments of
concern or anger, and at the precise moment of climax…
Damn! Ryan shook his head angrily. If only she wasn’t so touchy when it came to Naomi, or just
about every other woman he had ever met, for that matter. As he emerged from his thoughts,
the scene below suddenly came into focus. In the dim light, the snow swirled furiously around
the statues of Andrew Jackson and the Comte de Rochambeau, as if struggling to breathe life
into the marble figures. All in all, it was a breathtaking sight.
But it was incomparable to the view that greeted him when he walked back into the room. The
woman he loved was still turned away from him, but it didn’t matter; she was beautiful from any
angle. He could not help but admire the way her skin glowed in the soft light of the suite, as the
stunning curves of her body seemed to perfectly complement the elegant atmosphere that
suffused the room.
Seeing her in this way, Ryan came to a sudden realization. He would put up with these petulant
tantrums forever. He didn’t care if she grew out of it or not. If that was the price of knowing her,
then it was a small price, and he would pay it gladly.
A few minutes passed. Katie tried to push the worry out of her mind and go to sleep, but her
skin was still tingling from his touch. Her gaze drifted down to the diamonds that twinkled on
the third finger of her left hand. The last of her resolution disappeared, and when she turned
over to face him, her heart lifted when she saw that his attention had not wandered. That was all
it took. “Well, come on,” she said with feigned impatience and a precocious grin. “You’re not
going to give up that easily, are you?”
His smile lit up the room. Three steps later he pounced on her, and she was shrieking with
laughter until his attention became too much, and her cries of ecstasy spilled out into the night.
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CHAPTER 23
