Fires of Autumn (8 page)

She
flashed him a taunting grin, one that had him captivated.  But she stood up
before they could explore any manner of flirtatious banter, straightening her
skirt as she rose from the couch. Sheridan couldn't help but notice her
magnificent figure as she smoothed her sexy little cocktail dress. No wonder
the woman was cold because there wasn’t much to it, but she looked absolutely
delicious. He tried not to stare but couldn’t quite manage it.  When Casey
caught him staring at her, she cocked an eyebrow.

“What?”
she asked.  “Is something wrong?”

Slightly
embarrassed that he’d been caught checking her out, he shook his head.
“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Oh,” her
gaze lingered on him a moment. “Sorry to have delayed you. You should probably
get back to work."

“I’ll wait
if you’d like me to escort you upstairs.”

She looked
at him as if shocked by the suggestion, but after a moment, her expression
eased and she shook her head. “The reception is in the Blue Room, but Russ is
having us gather in the Diplomatic Room first.”

Colt stood
up, buttoning up his coat. “Then I’ll escort you over there.” He picked up her
wrap and handed it to her. “Come on.”

Casey took
the wrap but she was hesitant about accepting his offer. “You really should
hurry up to Russ,” she told him. “It’s not good for the new special agent in
charge to be late for his first official gig.”

“I can
drop you off at the Diplomatic Room and make it upstairs in less than a minute
if you’ll quit arguing with me.”

Casey
lifted her eyebrows at him as if outraged, but she ended up breaking out in a
grin.  Colt returned her smile, the dimples in his cheeks carving out deep
canyons.  A sweetly awkward moment followed as she giggled and he snorted, as
if they weren’t quite sure what more to say on the subject. Something was
sparking between them although neither one of them could put a finger on it. In
spite of their rough beginning, the seed of attraction had sprouted. Casey
finally folded the wrap neatly over her left arm and held her clutch with her
left hand.

“Okay,”
she swept her arm in the direction of the door. “Let’s go.”

“Ladies
first.”

She
preceded him out of the office and into the warm corridor.  Colt held out an
elbow to her like a proper escort would and she laughed.

“We’re not
going to the prom,” she said. “You don’t have to offer me your arm.”

He grinned
and lowered the elbow.  “I’m just trying to be a gentleman.”

She
laughed again, softly, and took his elbow with her free hand.  “Okay,” she
replied. “I don’t want you to think I’m ungracious.  Escort away.”

Colt’s
grin broadened as he settled in beside her, escorting her down the hall towards
the Diplomatic Room, the former White House furnace room that had been
transformed back in 1902 to a meeting and gathering room.  As they approached,
they could hear voices in the room and already, people were starting to spill
out into the corridor.  They were mostly Chinese diplomats and Colt studied the
group as he approached. That was just habit with him. 

More than
that, he noticed that all of them were looking at Casey with great interest. 
He felt rather territorial of her, as if he was guarding his prize, but quickly
realized he didn’t have any more right to her than the rest of them.  He just
happened to be lucky enough to have her on his arm.

“All right,”
he took her hand off his elbow as they came close to the room entry. “Here’s
your stop.”

He was
holding her hand and Casey turned to him, a genuine smile on her lips. “Thanks
for the escort,” she said.  “I’m not sure I would have made it here safely without
you.”

Colt
cracked a lop-sided smile. “The halls of the White House can be dangerous.”

Casey
nodded, realizing he was still holding her hand.  She released her fingers but
he didn’t release his, prompting her to gently but firmly pull her hand from his
grip.

“You’d
better get going,” she said. “Russ will be waiting.”

Colt did
nothing more than give her a smile and a nod, disappearing up the stairs to the
left.  Casey watched him go, thinking a lot of things at that moment, but
mostly that she thought he was very handsome.  She wasn’t one to linger on a
man but she found herself lingering on Sheridan.  There was a lot to linger on.

Carmen
Hennderson found her shortly thereafter, cup of tea in hand, but Casey didn’t
need the tea any longer. Still, she took it from the woman, sipping her tea
while speaking with one of the lesser female Chinese diplomats who seemed to
have a thing for Disneyland.  Being a Southern California native, Casey was
able to converse intelligently on the amusement park she had visited at least a
couple of dozen times.  She was also able to intelligently discuss the cache of
Medieval coins recently found at a construction site in Anguo City, which
impressed the young Chinese woman.   Casey had been in Politics a long time.
She knew how to impress.

Russ
appeared a short time later with his wife, Tracy, a vivacious woman with a fake
tan and a loud laugh.  Russ made the rounds to a few of the senior diplomats
before directing everyone upstairs to the Blue Room, where alcohol and food were
waiting.   The entire group herded from the room, into the corridor beyond and
up the stairs.  Casey, the very last person in the room, set her tea cup down
and followed.   She kept looking up ahead as Russ led the group, pretending she
wasn’t looking for Colt when she knew damn well that she was. Feeling silly, as
well as a little giddy, Casey joined the cocktail reception in the Blue Room.

The event
dragged on into the night.  The Chinese liked their liquor and they loosened up
quite a bit as the wine flowed.  Russ brought out a bottle of Amarone from his
private reserve, a very fine Italian red wine, and shared it with the Chinese
ambassador.  It was enough to make him a bit tipsy, but only enough to make him
hilarious.  Casey worked the room, met aides and diplomats, and spoke of
archaeology, commerce and, more than once, Disneyland.  It was all very
cocktail-y and very Washington-esque, but not once in all that time did she see
Special Agent in Charge Sheridan again.  He and the other secret service agents
had made themselves scarce.

As the
hour of midnight neared, the party was in full swing and Russ began making
demands for music.  Mrs. Hennderson phoned White House maintenance, and two men
brought in a compact Bose sound system and hooked it up in the adjoining Green
Room.   Soon, soft sounds of the Eagles were playing in the Green Room and half
of the group had moved in to the room, a few of them dancing.  Someone had
opened the doors that led out to the South Portico overlooking the south lawn
just to let some air in.  It was a very cold but very clear night.

Casey had
just finished up with another female aide, now alone for nearly the first time
all night, and wishing she could get out of there.  She was exhausted and the
boys had soccer games the next day, so she would be up early with them.  As she
pulled out her lipstick to touch up her lips, a young Chinese aide approached
her and wanted to dance.  She graciously begged off but the man wouldn’t be
deterred. He spoke very good English and the more Casey declined, the more he
insisted. 

Finally,
she resorted to lying, telling him that she had twisted her ankle and couldn’t
dance, but he still wouldn’t leave her alone.  He was, in fact, rather
aggressive and kept trying to hold her hand or touch her in some way.  When he
went to get them both a drink, she slipped outside to the dark portico to hide.

It was a
mistake.  It was freezing outside and all she had was that little wrap to keep
her warm.  Still, it was better than being pursued by a drunk and amorous
Chinese aide.  She could hear everyone inside, having a good time, and she
thought she might just slip out and go home.  Russ probably wouldn’t even
remember if she said good-bye to him, anyway.

 Wandering
to the edge of the portico where the big staircase led down to the south lawn,
she could hear a man’s voice with a heavy Chinese accent calling her name. 
Desperate to get away from her suitor, she slipped down the stairs as silently
as she could to hide from him.

Now she
was underneath the dark and damp portico, and it was as cold as a freezer.  She
inched out from underneath, peering up the stairs to see if the amorous Chinese
man was still looking for her.  She could hear voices, and music, but she
didn’t hear her name any longer.  As she took another step out, thinking about
heading over to the west wing and then out to the parking structure, a hand
grabbed her from behind.

Casey
shrieked and tried to bolt as two hands suddenly grabbed her, trapping her.  In
the darkness, she could see a very large body and, after a moment, she
recognized Sheridan’s features in the darkness.  Terror turned to relief.

“Oh, my
God,” she gasped, her hand over her chest to still her heart. “You scared me to
death.”

He
grinned, his big white teeth reflecting the weak light. “I saw you go out onto
the portico,” he said. “What are you doing down here?”

He was
still holding on to her arms.  His hands were blazingly hot against the frigid
temperatures. 

“Hiding
from some Chinese guy who wants to dance with me,” she said. “Your hands are so
warm. I’m freezing down here.”

Colt
silently pulled off his suit jacket and slung it over her shoulders, pulling it
tightly around her.  Wrapped up in the wool coat, Casey succumbed to the heat
with comfort and relief.  It was heavenly.  It was the second time in as many
hours that Sheridan had come to her rescue.

“Do I need
to defend your virtue?” he asked, watching her giggle. “Did he try anything?”

She shook
her head. “No,” she said. “He was just a little drunk. He wanted to dance. But
he kept trying to grab me.”

Colt
grinned. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“He’s
gross!”

“So what
do you want me to do? Just say the word and I’ll have him escorted out of
here.”

She
laughed softly. “You’d better not,” she said. “He’s the son of somebody
important and you’ll just create an international incident.  It would just be
best if I left.”

“Okay,” he
said, feeling the pangs of disappointment at the thought of her leaving. All
evening, when he was supposed to be watching the President, he found himself
watching her. She’d made the night far more pleasant. “I’ll have someone walk
you to your car.”

She shook
her head. “That’s not necessary,” she said. “I’m a big girl. My car is just
across the street.”

“Forget
it,” he said, more firmly. He lifted his right arm and spoke into a tiny
microphone that was strung down his sleeve and ended in his hand. “This is
Sheridan. Have Case meet me in the cross hall in five.”

Someone
came back with an affirmative. Even though Casey couldn’t hear it, she heard
his acknowledgement. 

“Thanks,”
she said. “You really didn’t have to do that. But I guess if something happened
to me, you’d never hear the end of it.”

His
usually neutral expression came close to a scowl.  “You’re probably right.  I’d
get fired over some woman who insulted me when I first met her and then stole
my coat and used me like a space heater.”

Her mouth
popped open in outrage, although there was humor to it. “So now you’re
insulting
me
?”

“You
insulted me first.”

She sighed
sharply, lightly done. “You’re right,” she agreed impatiently. “I did. I’ve
already apologized for it. What more can I do?”

Colt’s
brown eyes glimmered. “Do you really want to know?”

“Probably
not, but tell me anyway.”

“Dance
with me.”

Her
outrage, her surprise, turned genuine.” What?”

He pointed
a finger skyward, indicating the portico above them. “Hear the music? It’s The
Eagles singing ‘The Best of my Love’.”

Her
eyebrows flew up. “You want me to
dance
with you? You’ve got to be
crazy. You’re on duty. If anyone saw us, you’d be in a hell of a lot of
trouble.”

The
corners of his lips twitched. “You’ve got one minute.”

He held up
his hands as if to take her into his arms and dance with her.  Casey just
gawked at him. “Seriously?”

“Fifty-five
seconds.”

She eyed
him; he was apparently dead serious and to tell the truth, the thought didn’t
repulse her. In fact, it was rather inviting.  Sheridan was an extremely
handsome man with a charming personality when he let himself bust out from the
serious Secret Service agent persona.  Casey felt herself relenting.

“So… if I
do, you’ll forgive me for insulting you earlier today?”

“I’ll
forgive you everything. It’ll be a clean slate.”

With a
shrug, Casey took his jacket off and handed it back to him.  Colt put the coat
back on and the held his hands up again expectantly.  Still eyeing him rather
uncertainly, Casey placed her right hand in his left one, and he pulled her
against his firm, warm torso. His right arm snaked around her slender body.