A Pregnancy Scandal (12 page)

Ask him, of course. But what if she turned out to be wrong? She was flying blind and terrified of messing up.

If she wanted something more than just being friends and partners with Phillip, she had to take that leap. They'd agreed divorce was off the table, so there was no reason to fear the consequences.

Last week, he'd come home to her. This time, she'd go to him. On the surface, she could pretend she'd elected to attend the FDA hearing on Monday in person. But in reality, for the first time since her youth, Alex was planning to break the rules.

Ten

L
ast week, Phillip had jetted home without even stopping by his condo. By five o'clock on Friday, he was starting to think that sounded like an even better idea this week.

Opposition to the bill he was cosponsoring with Senator Galindo had been fierce, and she and Phillip had spent the past week duking it out side by side on the Senate floor. The bill had failed to even make it to a vote.

He wanted to go home to Dallas and sink into Alex for reasons he was too tired to examine. She'd make it all go away with her smile and her pretty hair that felt like silk against his fingers. But the three-hour flight loomed, long and boring and so not what he wanted to do, and he hadn't even left Capitol Hill yet.

This commuting back and forth arrangement had serious holes in it. But he and Alex were stuck in it for the time being. He was trying to be patient with all of the complexities of their relationship, but something had to give.

A bit disgusted with the world in general, he trudged to his car and let Randy drive him back to the condo so he could dump his briefcase at least. But when he walked in the door, the light in the kitchen was on. Instantly on guard, he pulled out his phone to call 911...when Alex emerged from the bedroom.

Alex.
Wearing a silk robe and a smile. And nothing else. He hoped.

The phone dropped from his nerveless fingers. “What—”

“Shh. I wanted to surprise you. Consider it an in-person thank-you for the flowers.”

She advanced to the spot where he'd become rooted to the floor and he couldn't do anything other than watch the sexy sashay. He didn't want to do anything else on earth besides that.

“Yeah?” he croaked. “Found the robe I bought you, did you?”

He swallowed the question as she took hold of his tie, pulling on it sharply to bring his mouth to hers.

And then his brain dissolved as his wife devoured him, kissing him with a burst of pent-up passion. Or maybe that was his own kettle hitting full boil and whistling for all it was worth. Because holy hell, her tongue slicked along his, hot and strong and determined to unravel him in one shot.

It was working.

His wife had flown to Washington. To be with him. He'd reached out, tried to change the dynamic between them so they could get their relationship on even ground, and she'd reached back. Wow, had she reached back.

He should be the one doing the thanking. She was exactly what he'd needed, exactly what he'd wanted. All his fantasies wrapped up in an amazing package that he didn't have to wait one second to enjoy. It was like she'd read his mind.

His heart shattered and knit back together again instantly. He should probably care more about the ramifications of that.

She backed him up against one of the pillars separating the family room and the kitchen. His shoulder blades hit it a moment before her lush breasts smashed against his torso. He groaned. Even through his suit jacket he could feel her hard nipples. Lust rocketed through him, hardening everything in its path, and she purred her approval as her hands examined every inch of it.

“Too many clothes,” she muttered and yanked off his suit jacket, popping a button in her haste. Enthusiastically, he helped her get the rest off and then the silk of her robe brushed across his skin, shooting sparks of sensation far and wide.

“Not you,” he murmured hoarsely. “You're wearing exactly the right amount.”

Provided she was naked under that robe...and lo and behold, she was. His palms cupped her bare rear and shoved, grinding her against his erection.

More.
Now. Fast.

His mouth hot on hers again, he picked her up and stumbled to the kitchen...or the living room...or at least something that had a surface at waist height, and set her down. Because he wanted to use his hands and couldn't hold her up at the same time.

Falling into her, he gathered up the edges of the robe and pulled them wide, baring her breasts to his hungry gaze. Licking one nipple into his mouth, he sucked as his hands circled her stomach, thighs and then finally honed in on the sweet spot, pulling a hard gasp from her as he pushed into her slick center with two fingers, then three.

Not enough. He wanted to feel everything.

Centering her, he plunged in to the hilt and a gasp burst from his own throat. Perfection. She rolled her hips, drawing him deeper, urging him on with little cries that inflamed his thrusts until they both came in a rush, pulsing in tandem. His knees nearly gave out from the force of his release.

And then he just held on to her, still deep inside, still caught up in the wash of pleasure. He closed his eyes and let his head rest on hers as something warm burst open in his chest.

He knew exactly what it was. Something that wasn't supposed to be there but had been for a while. Something wholly encompassing that was so much stronger in this moment after making love to his wife.

Where had that
come
from?

The black box inside had been locked up for so long. Exactly the way he'd wanted it. No emotions meant no pain.

Of course he cared about Alex. She was carrying his children. They were married. That warmth was only natural, he assured himself with something akin to panic.

She sighed against his neck, her legs clamped tight around his waist in the midst of an encounter that had only happened because she'd cut her workday short so she could fly three hours to see him. It was a huge concession, one that wasn't lost on him, and the warmth he'd been trying to deny spread to his heart, filling him.

Leftover reaction from the sex. Which had been so unbelievable. That was all this was. Of course he'd have some residual heat from that; it had been hot.

Relief settled over him. After the conversation with his grandfather, he'd known he had to do something to change his relationship with Alex or he risked losing what he'd perceived to be a tenuous hold on Alex and his babies. Looked like it had worked.

“You're welcome,” he murmured when he could speak through all the
stuff
going on inside. “For the flowers.”

It had been a spontaneous thought born of a long night alone last Sunday. He'd lain in bed remembering their weekend together and had wanted to do something to let her know he missed her. Part of the hard work Max had entreated him to take on, but it hadn't felt like work.

“The notes were the best part,” she whispered into his ear and her legs tightened around him, increasing the contact between their bodies. “They were like a secret message.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You picked out the most important highlights of our relationship and dedicated a note to each one. We're married. Having a family together. We can't keep our hands off each other because we've always been hot for one another.” She ticked off each point against his shoulder. “And we like being with each other. Sharing a life. So much so that we miss each other. Marriage is so much better than what we thought it was going to be. That's what you meant. Right?”

Hearing it all encapsulated like that—no, that wasn't at all what he'd intended but he liked her points. What she'd said was exactly how he felt. Maybe he had subconsciously wanted to pay tribute to what was great about where they'd ended up.

“Yeah, sure. You're onto me.”

Actually, it wasn't perhaps as subconscious as he'd pretended. The notes were also parameters. They carefully defined the box he'd put around their relationship.
These are the things our relationship is. The omissions are the things our relationship is not.

It was inside of those parameters where he felt safest. Nothing bad would happen if they just stuck to the agreement. No emotional commitment meant no guilt, and it meant he'd never have to relive those hours and days after losing the most important thing in his life. And the fact that Alex got that was amazing. Wonderful. Miraculous.

The warmth in his chest started to bother him. He couldn't exactly claim to still be in the throes of post-orgasm. What was he doing still engaged with her like this? It was dangerous.

Alex cupped his face with her palms and kissed him sweetly, then drew back to bowl him over with a misty smile. Shiny moisture gathered in the corners of her eyes. “That's great. Because I'm falling for you, too.”

“You're...what?” His voice cracked. “
Falling?
For me?
Too?
”

Parroting her words did not cause them to magically become coherent. While he'd been busy lying to himself about what was happening on his side of the fence, it had never occurred to him that
she'd
be veering from the rules.

She cocked her head, her smile slipping a touch. “Well...yeah. That's what we're talking about. Right? Our feelings toward each other are growing stronger. Deeper. The agreement didn't cover what would happen if we fell in love. So what do we do with that?”

Yes, of course their feelings were deeper than they had been. They were living together, married—but not
in love
. Okay, sometimes he couldn't sleep when she wasn't there. Sometimes his heart got a little warm when he looked at her. So what? That wasn't the same as what she was talking about.

Or was she seeing something he hadn't dared admit, even to himself?

“We're not...” His throat tightened, almost strangling him as he shut his eyes, willing back the panic clawing through his gut. “The agreement didn't cover it because it's not happening.”

Crush it now
.
Don't let anything change.

The rules were in place for a reason; so she didn't expect something he was unwilling to give. But it was too late to backpedal. Even he could see that as she flinched.

Caution clouded her expression. “Not happening? You can't tell me how I feel, Phillip. Nor can you lie away your own feelings.”

This was really, truly happening. They were having a conversation about the very thing he'd taken so many pains to avoid. The conflict inside between the guilt over his faithlessness toward Gina and the future he could have with Alex roared to life, clawing through him with metal teeth.

Wrenching away from her, he went in search of his clothes. He didn't want to have this conversation at all, let alone while naked.

She followed him into the living area, drawing her robe closed and belting the sash. She clearly didn't realize he'd been seeking distance. She perched on the edge of a wingback chair flanking the fireplace. Quickly, he threw on his shirt and pants but couldn't find the left leg hole until he sat on the couch. Dazed, he stared at the carpet, the giraffe-stone fireplace, anywhere but at his wife as he told her what she needed to hear.

“I'm not lying away my feelings,” he insisted. He despised politicians who lied as a matter of course. His honesty had always been one of his trademarks; that was the reason he was in this marriage, because he hadn't wanted to mislead his constituents. “I don't mean that I'm trying to will it away. I mean it's not on the table. It's not an option.”

Which was true but wasn't necessarily the same as the whole truth, and that was something he wasn't willing to offer. Because the way he felt about Alex had veered into dangerous territory a long time ago. And he'd tried—unsuccessfully—to mitigate those circumstances.

His heart belonged to Gina and no other woman could ever breach that wall. No other woman could be allowed inside. It wasn't fair to anyone, but it was the way things were.

It rang a little less true than it had in the past. And that was the worst revelation of all. If he allowed himself to love Alex, he'd be allowing himself the possibility of being emotionally destroyed all over again. He couldn't do it.

He was hurting her. The pain etched into her face nearly undid him. This was the reason he'd avoided women who wanted a love match. What had happened to his perfect, loveless marriage? Dumb question—emotions had happened to it. His and hers, effectively killing their agreement. It was a disaster.

Everything was falling apart and he didn't have a clue how to save it.

* * *

“You say it's not an option,” Alex countered far more calmly than the tango in her stomach should have allowed. “But one of your points about getting married was that you wanted our children to grow up in a home like the one you had.”

This was not going like she'd envisioned. Phillip hadn't fallen into her arms and thanked her for reading between the lines of his notes. In fact, if anything, she'd say they were headed in the opposite direction. His slightly panicked expression and superquick donning of his clothes had a lot to do with that impression.

The magic she'd thought had sparked between them in the kitchen had thoroughly fizzled. Why had she thought baring her soul would be a good idea?

“Yeah. It is one of the reasons.” Even his tone of voice had flattened out.

Pandora's box had been opened, and though she'd like nothing more than to slam the lid closed, she forced out the words. Do-or-die time. If she wanted more, she had to reach out. If she wanted to be loved, she had to say so.

“Your parents are very much in love, even now. Anyone can see that. Maybe that's part of the equation. Love is what creates that environment for kids. So what if we keep fast to the agreement and that turns out to be worse for our children? Why not explore all the options?”

There it was. Her best argument for taking their relationship to places they'd never expected. The logic was sound. If there was any chance of getting her husband on board with the possibility of a love match, logic was it. She held her breath.

“It's not an option,” he repeated as his expression closed in. “We talked about this. You know what I'm willing to give and what I'm not.”

Because his first wife was such a paragon that Alex couldn't measure up. Being the mother of his children didn't give her any special rights to his heart. He'd been more than clear about that all along.