Devil in Dress Blues (16 page)

“I never intended to hurt Ms. Sinclair,” she said, tipping her chin up and fixing Sara with an icy glare. “I only meant to scare you enough that you’d think twice about publicizing my husband’s behavior.”

“And which behavior would that be?” Sara asked. “The sexual fantasies he purchases through the Glass Slipper Club, or his affair with Lauren Black?”

Diane gave Sara a frigid smile. “Don’t you know? They’re one and the same.”

Rafe frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Diane gave him a look of disdain. “For all your intelligence contacts, Sergeant, you really don’t know, do you? Lauren Black may very well work as an editor for
American Man
magazine, but she moonlights for the Glass Slipper Club under the name Lisette.”

Lisette.
Sara recalled seeing the name on the client list. Judging by the frequency with which the name had appeared, Lisette was one of the more popular call girls in the club. But
Lauren?
Smart, acerbic, get-the-job-done Lauren?

“That’s impossible,” Sara protested. “I know Lauren, and she would never demean herself by doing something like that.”

Diane gave a bitter laugh. “Trust me, dear. I’ve had detectives following my husband now for months and I have explicit photos of Edwin with that woman.” She passed a hand over her eyes. “I even confronted him with the proof that I know about his activities, but the man is ruled by his dick. He truly can’t help himself.”

Sara moved closer to Rafe’s protective bulk. “Were those your detectives who responded to the break-in at my apartment?”

“Dear, those were my detectives who
performed
the break-in at your apartment. I pay Anderson and Michaels very well for their services. And now I know that you have a memory stick that contains certain information. What is it? A list of clients?”

“You’ll never know,” Sara said hotly.

“I want that client list, Ms. Sinclair.” Diane’s face twisted and her voice was fierce. “I’ve worked as hard as any whore to get where I am today. I knew Edwin was a womanizer when I married him, but I also knew he had what it took to go all the way to the top. I’ve put up with his philandering ways for years, cleaning up his messes and doing it with a smile.” She was almost spitting in her fury. “I’ve given away millions of dollars in charity to ensure he has the connections he needs for a presidential campaign, and I’m not about to let you ruin it by publicizing his connection with the Glass Slipper Club. I can destroy you with a snap of my fingers, Ms. Sinclair, do you understand that?”

Rafe stepped in front of Sara. “You’re not going to do anything, Mrs. Zachary. That list is somewhere safe, where you’ll never get your hands on it. If you want it to remain a secret, you’ll ensure that nothing happens to Ms. Sinclair.”

Diane turned her furious gaze to Rafe, sweeping him with a disdainful look. “Who do you think you are? I’ve spent years pandering to the Washington elite, and there isn’t anyone who doesn’t owe me a favor. With one call to the Pentagon, I could have your stripes.”

Anxiety stabbed at Sara. She’d never heard anyone so callously threaten to ruin a man’s career as Diane had just done. And Sara had no doubt that she could do it.

But instead of looking upset, Rafe gave Diane a slow, predatory smile. Even in his formal evening wear, he looked dangerous. “Go ahead,” he purred. “But after you make that call, be sure to pick up a copy of the
Washington Post
. And the
Washington Times
and the
Express
, because I think you’ll be interested in the headlines. Do I make myself clear?”

“You bastard,” Diana hissed. “I will not be made the butt of jokes amongst the political pundits, nor will I be an object of pity for the Washington elite. If this information becomes public knowledge, I won’t be one of those women who stands by her husband with a look of long-suffering tolerance while he apologizes to the American public for his transgressions. I can’t let you publish that list.”

Rafe moved quickly, pushing Diane back against the door of the office with his hands on her shoulders and his face scant inches from hers. His expression was ruthless. “If anything—
anything
—happens to Sara, I’ll personally ensure that a copy of that client list is delivered to the senior editor of every daily newspaper in Washington. And then I’ll come after you.” Diane’s cool façade cracked and she stared at Rafe with undisguised fear in her eyes. “So I’d say it’s in your best interest to keep her alive and healthy.”

He stepped back, dropping his hands from the woman’s shoulders as if he found the act of touching her personally distasteful.

“It’s men like you who make this world a dangerous place to live,” Diane said in a low, tight voice.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he snarled softly. “It’s people like you, who believe the rules don’t apply, who make this world a dangerous place.” He extended a hand to Sara. “But you’re right about one thing. I am a dangerous man. I’d remember that, if I were you.”

R
AFE HANDED
S
ARA INTO
the limousine before he climbed in to sit on the padded seat across from her. Guests were still arriving at the Zachary residence as they pulled away, but Sara was grateful to be leaving.

“What a horrible woman,” she exclaimed. “Maybe we should just blow the entire story wide open and watch her go to prison for what she tried to do.”

Leaning forward, Rafe pressed a button and the privacy screen slid smoothly into place behind the driver. “I think Diane Zachary is already in a prison of sorts,” he said quietly, “just one of her own making. She knows that if anything happens to you, she’ll lose everything. As for Edwin, I guarantee he won’t run for President. He’ll end up destroying his own career. That’s good enough for me. Are you okay?”

Sara nodded and then slanted him a questioning look. “Where is the memory stick?”

Rafe laughed softly. “I have no idea. I sent it to a friend in North Carolina and told him to put it somewhere safe. I’m guessing it’s stored in a weapons bunker at Fort Bragg, protected by concertina wire and reinforced doors, not to mention the U.S. Army.”

Sara frowned. “Do you believe what she said about Lauren being one of the call girls?”

Rafe shrugged. “After what I’ve seen these past few days, I’m inclined to believe just about anything.”

“Do you think Lauren was involved in any of what happened? I mean, she invited me to the Singapore Bistro that night. Maybe she knew about the client list.”

“I don’t think so. But maybe you should talk to her.”

“You’re right,” she said, pulling her cell phone out of her small evening bag. “It’s bad enough that she had an affair with Edwin Zachary! No wonder she didn’t want to go to the book-signing. But I can’t believe she’s involved in the Glass Slipper Club. I won’t believe it until I hear it from her.”

She punched in the number and waited until Lauren answered. “How’s the book-signing?” the editor asked without preamble. “Did you get a quote from Edwin Zachary?”

Sara glanced at Rafe. “Unfortunately, no. But I did get one from Diane Zachary.”

“Oh. Well, let’s hear it. Did she have anything interesting to say?”

“I think so. She said you moonlight for the Glass Slipper Club under the name Lisette.” She waited expectantly for an outraged protest, but there was only silence. “Lauren, we saw photos of you and Edwin Zachary together. Do you deny it?”

“Oh, what’s the point?” Lauren asked, exasperated. “Fine. Yes, I work part-time for the club. Are you happy now?”

Sara couldn’t suppress the disappointment and dismay she felt. “Why, Lauren? You’re a senior editor at
American Man
magazine. You’re well respected in the industry and it’s not as if you need the money. Please tell me why you’d be involved in something like that, because it just doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“What? You think only drug addicts or desperate women become call girls?” Lauren asked, her voice filled with derision. “Let me tell you something, sweetie. Most of the women who work for the Glass Slipper Club are highly educated, attractive women. They’re lawyers and college professors and reputable businesswomen.”

“So why do it?” Sara asked. “You’re intelligent and attractive—you could have any man you want.”

Lauren laughed. “I don’t want a man in my life, darling, just in my bed. I like sex. Hell, I love sex without any of the messy complications that come with a committed relationship. And Washington is a very expensive place to live. Plus, I get to screw some seriously powerful men. You wouldn’t believe the pillow talks I’ve had.”

Sara’s gaze flew to Rafe’s. He watched her intently.

“Is that how you found out about Rafe Delgado’s involvement with the rescue of the aid workers? Through one of your clients?”

“That was an unexpected perk,” Lauren admitted. “I’ve actually gotten the inside scoop on several great stories as a result of my club connections. You know, with a face and body like yours, you could make a bundle in this particular line of work. Think of it as a way to make your most secret fantasies come true.”

“The Glass Slipper Club is done, Lauren. Even if I hadn’t discovered what was going on, the Feds were getting ready to pull the plug on the whole operation. Juliet’s likely left the country and the club has closed its doors.” Sara let her gaze slide over Rafe as he eased a finger inside his collar and loosened his bow tie. “Besides, there are other ways to fulfill your fantasies without selling your soul.”

“So does this mean I’m not getting my story about the rescue?” Lauren asked.

“I’ll get you a story,” Sara promised. “Just not the one you were looking for.”

She closed her cell phone and considered Rafe. He leaned back against the luxurious seat, looking every inch a dark, sexy playboy in his disheveled tuxedo.

“I heard most of that,” he admitted.

Sara sighed. “I still can’t quite believe it. I’ll give her one last story, but then I’m done with the magazine.”

Rafe frowned. “Are you sure? What will you do?”

Sara smiled and leaned forward, placing her hands on his strong thighs. “Oh, I have a few ideas.” She slid her hands higher, closing the small distance between them. Climbing onto the seat, she scooted forward until her knees bracketed his legs and she could kneel upright and thread her fingers into his hair.

Rafe smiled lazily into her eyes. “I’m listening.”

“I was just thinking that you could help me fulfill another one of my fantasies.”

“I think we may already have explored this one,” he said huskily.

“Mmm. But not in a limousine.”

His eyes darkened and his hands slid under the hem of her dress, sliding up to smooth over her buttocks. “You’re wearing a thong,” he groaned. “I didn’t know you even owned a thong.”

She smiled and lowered her mouth to his, her breathing quickening as he pushed the flimsy material to one side. “A girl has to have a few secrets. And this is a really great fantasy, but it’s not the fantasy I was referring to.”

“No?”

“Nope. You’re my fantasy,” she breathed. “Being with you is my fantasy. Loving you is my fantasy.”

Rafe looked at her, his expression soft and sexy. “That’s an easy one to fulfill,” he rasped, “because you’re my fantasy, too.”

Epilogue

Two months later

I
T WAS ALMOST MIDNIGHT
. Sara didn’t know how long she’d been curled up on her sofa, staring dreamily at the multicolored lights on her small Christmas tree. But she knew if she didn’t get to bed soon, she’d regret it in the morning. Tomorrow was a big day, and she needed all the sleep she could get. Standing up, she stretched and was about to pad across her small apartment to turn off the lights when someone knocked softly on her apartment door, causing her to jump.

“Who’s there?” she called.

“It’s me,” came the deep response.

With her heart leaping in her chest, Sara unbolted the door and flung it wide, drinking in the sight of the man who stood in the hallway. He’d only been gone a month, but it felt like much longer. He’d spent the past four weeks training in North Carolina, and although they had talked to each other nearly every day, Sara had missed him.

“Rafe.”
He wore his Marine Corps dress blues and carried a duffel bag in one hand. “What are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.” Her hand flew self-consciously to her hair, and then to her pajama top. “If I’d known you were coming, I would have worn something…hot.”

With a soft laugh, Rafe stepped into her apartment and dropped his duffel onto the floor before he drew her into his arms. His uniform still carried the chill of outdoors and Sara shivered as she wreathed her arms around his neck. “You
do
look hot. And I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to see you. To be with you.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” she asked, pressing kisses against his jaw, his neck and his lips. “I would have come to the airport to get you.”

“I didn’t call because I wanted to find you exactly like this,” he growled, hauling her close and capturing her mouth in a searing kiss. “Warm and soft and welcoming.”

“Mmm. I was just going to bed.”

“Then my timing is perfect.”

Before Sara could protest, he lifted her in his arms. She gave a startled laugh of surprise and clutched him around his shoulders, deciding she didn’t really need to sleep, after all. Rafe strode toward her bedroom, then paused. Sara twisted in his arms to see what he was looking at and her gaze fell on the most recent issue of
American Man
magazine. On the cover was a picture of Corporal Shay Riordan surrounded by other injured soldiers. Behind them was the Walter Reed hospital. The caption beside the photo read, True Blue American Heroes.

Sara had written a story that focused on Shay’s heroism and the Semper Fi Fund’s efforts to support the men and women recuperating at the hospital. She had emphasized the need for the public to do the same as a way to thank the soldiers who had given so much. Already, donations to the Fund were pouring in, and the hospital had reported a surge in visitors, including celebrities and people who wanted to help.

“Did I thank you yet for doing the story on the Semper Fi Fund?” he asked. “And not on the rescue mission in Pakistan?”

“I think so,” she said, “but it definitely bears repeating. Everyone is entitled to keep a secret or two. And yours are safe with me.”

Rafe carried her into the bedroom and laid her down on the bed, following closely with the length of his body against hers. “I have a whole new appreciation for the benefits of the media,” he murmured, dipping his head to kiss the soft swell of her breast above her camisole top. “Why didn’t you tell me today was your last at the magazine?”

Sara rolled her head on the covers and looked at him with amusement. “Because I knew you probably already knew. And I was right. When did you find out?”

Rafe kicked his shoes off and propped himself on one elbow as he smoothed his hand over her body. “Just last week. So what will you do now?”

Sara rolled toward him, hitching a thigh across his hips and drawing his head down for a deep kiss. “I was offered a job as a staff reporter for the
Washington Post
, courtesy of Diane Zachary. And that was
after
her husband was caught in a compromising situation with a White House intern. He has a press conference scheduled later this week to publicly apologize, and to formally withdraw his bid for the Presidency.”

Rafe gave a huff of laughter. “No shit. I wonder if Diane will be at his side when he makes the announcement. Are you going to take the job?”

“Absolutely not. I think it’s clear I’m not cut out to be an investigative reporter. I found a job writing for a women’s magazine, instead. I really like the editor and I think it’s going to be a good match.”

“Congratulations. What did Lauren have to say?”

“She gave me a good recommendation, and said that if I ever want my old job back, she’d hire me in a heartbeat.”

Rafe laughed softly and pressed a kiss against her bare shoulder. “I have some news that I was going to save until tomorrow, but since we’re sharing secrets, I may as well tell you now.”

Sara waited expectantly, unable to tell from his expression if she was going to welcome the news or not.

“I’ve accepted an assignment as a military strategist at the Pentagon. I report for duty right after the holidays.”

“Rafe.”
Sara stared at him, too overcome to say anything else, but the implications weren’t lost on her. He wouldn’t return to Afghanistan or Pakistan. His life would no longer be in danger. He wouldn’t have to leave her again. She buried her face against his shoulder, her fingers curling into the fabric of his uniform.

“Hey,” he said gently, tipping her face up. “Are you crying? I thought you’d be happy.”

“I am,” she assured him, swiping at her damp cheeks. “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. I don’t have to worry about your safety anymore.”

“Better yet, I’ll be right here with you, which means I won’t need to worry about your safety anymore, either.”

Sara wound her arms around his neck and pressed herself closer. “I’m so happy. You see, I may need you around to help me fulfill my remaining fantasies.”

Rafe groaned and hauled her closer. “Sweetheart, I am definitely the man for the job. Let me show you…”

It turned out, Sara thought happily, that all of the best things happened after midnight.