In Bed With the Opposition (4 page)

Ethan looked a little abashed, but his grin widened. “Are you calling me a sellout?”

She found herself grinning right back at him. “I’m saying Senator Halloway has fat campaign coffers and is prepared to make you a very nice offer.”

“In order for me to even
consider
working for him, I’d have two conditions, and neither are negotiable.”

“Shoot,” she said, trying to keep herself steady, something that was decidedly difficult to do when in the presence of his star wattage.

“First, I’d need your solemn vow that after we’re done talking business, you’ll answer my questions about why we broke up in law school. You’re a riddle I intend to solve.”

Oh, God
. If there were any conversation in the world she didn’t want to have, it was that one. But learning he’d thought of himself as an aggrieved ex-boyfriend had turned Grace’s worldview upside down. When she left him, she’d been too messed up to think about anybody’s feelings but her own. Once it was over, she felt too guilty to answer his calls. She’d even set up a special filter to delete his e-mails. In retrospect, she’d behaved badly. Really badly.

“Yes or no, Grace. Do I have your word?”

“Sure,” she said with a decisive nod. “What’s your second condition?”

Ethan folded his arms. “There’s only one reason in the world I’d ever work for your boss.”

“Which is?” she asked, draining the last of her latte.

Ethan’s green eyes narrowed in a predatory way. “The only reason I’d work for your boss is to seduce you into a very public and very pleasurable—
I promise
—campaign romance.”

…

The strangled gurgle in her throat made it sound as if she were choking. Oh, she
was
choking. It was everything she could do not to spray that last swallow of Starbucks. While she coughed, Ethan continued, “Think of it, Grace! Your boss has everything going for him but his age. He’s old and tired. Young, hot staffers having a love affair make good public interest stories.”

Grace fought back her piqued interest with the sheer force of her indignation. “Is my career a joke to you? Or are you implying that I’m part of your signing bonus?”

That sobered him. “Oh,
Jesus
. I didn’t mean it to sound like that. Sometimes I think I’m being funny—”

“You know how it is in this business,” she said, imagining the stories the media could run with perfect, and horrifying, clarity. “It’s
still
an Old Boys’ Club. Women politicians can’t shed a tear without being thought weak, and they can’t wear a lacy blouse without being accused of trading on sex appeal. I’m good at my job. I’m serious about it. But I have to prove myself
every
day.”

“Look, I’m sorry. Let’s not fight. I don’t want to work for your boss, and you don’t want me to work for him, either. So let’s forget it.”

Grace exhaled with relief. She felt bad that she’d failed the senator because she prided herself on being able to deliver on whatever he asked, but he couldn’t blame her for this. She’d tried. Maybe not hard enough, but she’d given it a go.

“So that’s the end of it,” Grace said, clearing her throat.

“Not quite. You owe me answers. What happened in law school?”

Right
. She’d promised, hadn’t she? Her stomach spun in time with the machines. What whitewashed half-truth could she spin to get him to drop the subject? “It’s not that mysterious. I flunked out, took my wounded pride, and fled.”

That wasn’t nearly the whole story, but it was close enough. On the morning of her exams, when her study partner Dale Delmont sent her that picture, Grace had been sick over it. Seeing the obscene image of herself, kneeling in front of Ethan, had crushed her. But when accompanied by Dale’s veiled but unmistakable threat to post it to the Internet if she didn’t use her connections to get him a job on Capitol Hill, Grace had fallen apart. She hadn’t been able to concentrate on her civil procedure exam, and she didn’t even show up for the one on constitutional law. One failed exam was enough to put her on academic probation.

Two failed exams, well…

“I don’t buy it,” Ethan said. “You were a straight-A student. You knew that stuff.”

“I guess I broke under pressure. Then I couldn’t face anybody. Not even you.”

He still didn’t look convinced. “So you just quit?”

He probably hadn’t quit anything in his life. He never knew when to stop, after all. “I took some time off, Ethan. That’s all. I’m going back, someday.”

“When?”

Grace pressed her lips together. Every year, she told herself she’d go back to law school. And every year Senator Halloway convinced her that he needed her too much. If she could just make sure that he won this campaign…

Ethan leaned against one of the drying machines, his eyes narrowed as if he suspected there was more to the story. “You should’ve told me…I would’ve tried to help.”

As Grace remembered it, he’d helped her out of her clothes and into the worst trouble of her life. “Really? Because exam week, when I should have been studying, I was with you.”

Ethan blanched.

She shouldn’t have said that. Shouldn’t have made it sound like it was his fault. He didn’t deserve the blame. She’d been out of control, a more than willing participant. She found herself wanting to explain. “I don’t know how much you remember about what we did together, Ethan, but—”

“Oh, I remember
everything
.”

Grace blundered on in a whisper. “Then you remember how we kept taking bigger risks. In the elevator, in the back of your car…”

She hadn’t meant to make it sound provocative, but his breath caught. “Grace, you’re
killing
me here.”

Burning with embarrassment, she tried one last time. “The night you asked me to meet you in the library’s glass stairway—”

She didn’t get further than that. Ethan trapped her against the machine before she could say anything more. “Yeah. I remember. You drove me crazy. Every time I think about the things we did together, I still break into a sweat. But seeing you now puts every fantasy I’ve had about us to shame.”

He’d been fantasizing about her? The realization that she wasn’t just some easily forgotten conquest was starting to sink in. After what happened, she’d felt trashy, low, and ashamed. But if what Ethan was saying was true, it changed things. Maybe it changed things a lot.

But it was hard to think when he was so close to her that his breath warmed her face. It was exciting, but it also freaked her out. Public displays of affection were against
all
her rules and even though he hadn’t touched her yet, she had the paranoid thought that anyone who looked at them right now might be able to tell that they’d been lovers.

She drew back.

Ethan said, “I think you owe me an apology.”

Maybe she did. Maybe if she just said she was sorry, she’d feel better about the whole thing. More settled. It would put some closure on the episode. And that’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? Closure… “I’m sorry I just disappeared on you.”

Ethan nodded. “And that you didn’t write…”

“I’m sorry I didn’t write.”

“Or call,” Ethan added. “Or return my e-mails.”

“I’m sorry. I’m a guarded person. When things go badly, I throw up walls.”

“You don’t throw up walls, Grace. You retreat into a fortress, pull up the drawbridge, and prepare for a siege.”

The way he always thought of everything as some kind of battle always turned her on. She remembered how much she’d wanted him, how she’d been tongue-tied and eager to do anything he asked. And right now Ethan was so close that if she just leaned forward, she could kiss him. But other than being a spectacularly bad idea to kiss
anyone
in public, it would also be a violation of
Rule #6
which explicitly stated that she was not the kind of girl who kissed first.

“What are you thinking, Grace?”

“I’m thinking that the girl you knew in law school…that wasn’t me.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners with curiosity. “Who was it, then?”

“Some
insane
person,” Grace insisted, battling her urge to run her fingers through his unruly dark hair. “I’m very boring in real life.”

Ethan laughed. “I don’t believe it.”

“Seriously. I don’t watch movies. I don’t read anything but policy papers. I work, feed the cat, and do laundry. That’s me.”

Ethan knit his brows together. “You’re also a genius who got into law school a year early and now advises one of the most powerful men in the country.”

Did he just call her a genius? She’d forgotten that in addition to being wildly attracted to Ethan Castle, she’d always felt encouraged by him. He’d always built her up. She’d also really
liked
him. Maybe it was her tendency to see things at their extremes, her need to put things into boxes with simple labels, that made her forget how much fun he was to be around even when he had his clothes on.

“Grace?” Ethan asked, leaning closer. Impossibly close. She could feel the heat radiating off his skin. If she didn’t stop him, they were going to touch, and if they touched, she wasn’t sure she could be held responsible for what happened next.

She heard herself swallow. “Yes?”

His breathing deepened. “I think you also owe me a good-bye kiss.”

Oh, just a good-bye kiss
, she rationalized. That sounded like closure, didn’t it?

“Grace, if I kiss you now, are you going to think I’m a shady stalker?”

She grinned. “Yes, and I kind of like it, but we’re not alone.”

Glancing at the attendant, Ethan said, “So what? Kissing in public isn’t illegal.”

Not illegal,
Grace thought,
but maybe not something a Senate staffer should get caught doing.
And given what happened to her life the last time she was intimate in a public place, she was starting to panic.

But before she could fend him off, Ethan pressed her back against the dryer and closed his mouth over hers. It wasn’t a soft getting-reacquainted kiss, but it didn’t feel like a kiss good-bye, either; it was fevered. His lips were scalding hot, and his grip unyielding. She couldn’t break away if she wanted to.

Only when he lifted her onto the dryer did she get hold of herself. Taking a big gulp of air, she gasped. “I thought we were kissing good-bye?”

“We are. I just want to make a thorough job of it,” he said, kissing her again.

Her hands went to his chest to push him away, but once they flattened on the hard planes of his torso she groaned with pleasure. Her pulse raced. Touching him—even to escape him—had been a huge mistake because now she couldn’t even remember her rules. She couldn’t remember anything but how good this felt.

His skin was
burning
hot. She tasted mint on his breath. The lingering scent of his aftershave hypnotized her and the all-too-familiar feel of her knees on either side of his hips brought back memories that made her toes curl.

Ding!

Grace broke the kiss, her breath quick and shallow. “That’s my laundry.”

Ethan’s green eyes burned; he didn’t let her go. “Yeah.”

“I need to put it in the dryer.”

His gaze was lazy and lust-filled. “Yeah.”

Beep!

This time it wasn’t the washing machine. Both of them fumbled for their cell phones and Ethan scowled when he looked at his. “I’ve gotta catch my flight.”

This was it, then
, Grace thought, both frustrated and relieved at the interruption. “You don’t want to miss it.”

“Listen, Grace…” Ethan frowned, dissatisfaction all over his face. “It was really good seeing you again.”

She forced herself to smile. “You, too. I’m glad we, um, talked. The next time we run into each other, things won’t have to be awkward.”

Reluctantly disentangling from her, he uncharacteristically struggled for words. Maybe he didn’t know what to say because he had no idea when they might run into each other again. Maybe never. Which was as good a reason as any for Grace to give him a fond farewell. “Good luck, Ethan. On your campaign, I mean. Whichever one you take, I hope you win.”

“Thanks.” He started to the door, then stopped. “Good luck with Senator Halloway. I hope everything works out for you the way you want it to.”

Chapter Four

“And you just let him go?” Molly cried, throwing her arms up with such dramatic despair that Grace’s attention-starved cat hissed and skittered to the end of the couch.

Molly O’Meara was Grace’s best friend and her opposite in most every way. Where Grace was buttoned-up, her friend was a blue-haired rebel with a belly button piercing and an ankle tattoo. Where Grace was organized, Molly thrived in chaos. Whereas Grace tried to help
the people
, Molly was a nurse, helping people on a one-on-one basis every day. They were the most unlikely of kindred spirits, but there was nobody else in the world Grace could talk to about kissing Ethan. “Of course I let him go. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Jump him!” Molly said. “I would have.”

Flipping through the last few pages of the Chesapeake Bay’s water-quality report, Grace pet Thurgood’s striped fur to calm his nerves. “You don’t even know Ethan Castle.”

Molly snorted. “Oh, I know all I need to know. I’ve seen him on television and in the newspapers by the checkout lines. I might not be as flexible as that Olympic gymnast he was seeing, but just last night—”

“Weren’t you on duty at the hospital last night?”

Molly wagged one pierced eyebrow. “So was the cute first-year resident who showed me a whole new way to use a wheelchair, an exam light, and rubber gloves.”

“Ew!”

“And here I thought you’d approve. It was a
totally
sterile environment…”

Grace coughed. “Hello? I thought we were talking about me, here!”

“Right.” Molly grinned. “And we should be. Because this is the most interesting thing to happen to you in years. You’re dating two guys.”

“I’m
not
dating two guys,” Grace insisted.

“What else do you call it when you kiss one and agree to go out with another? Don’t get me wrong, I’m all in favor of the idea! Especially since keeping two guys on the hook is probably the most unconventional thing you’ve ever done.”

Grace bit her lip, wanting to argue, but Molly didn’t know about the pictures from law school. “I’m not keeping Ethan on a hook…it was just a kiss. A good-bye kiss. It’s not going to happen again.”

“Well, it should. You’ve got his number, right? Call him up and tell him to meet you next time he’s in town.”

Grace looked up, exasperated. “Why would I?”

“Can you even remember the last time you had sex?”

“Of course I do! It was…” Grace trailed off, not because she didn’t remember, but because she didn’t want to admit that it’d been more than eight months ago, on Super Bowl Sunday, when Blain’s team won the game and he’d taken her back to his place.

“See, that’s what’s wrong with you,” Molly said, sitting down and crossing her legs so that her skin showed through the hole in her jeans at the knee. “In spite of countless offers and the longest string of good hair days in history, you’ve allowed yourself only one wild fling in your whole life. You’re a prude.”

“Excuse me?” Grace raised an eyebrow.

Molly spelled it out. “P-R-U-D-E. Prim. Puritanical. Excessively proper.”

“I know what the word means… Also, there’s filtered water in the fridge. You wouldn’t ever drink tap water if you knew what was in it.”

Molly laughed, taking a big gulp just to spite her. “I’m just saying that Ethan Castle was your only one-night stand. You hate thinking that, deep down, you might just be a little sex kitten, but you can’t spend your whole life polishing your halo waiting around for Blain Halloway.”

Grace felt mildly offended. “First of all, it wasn’t a one-night stand.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “What-Ever. It was all sex, wasn’t it? That’s what you said. And if you ask me, you should have had
a lot
more sex instead of dreaming about how you and Blain Halloway are destined to be together like some kind of Mexican Barbie and Malibu Ken.”

Grace smothered a laugh because she didn’t like to admit that Blain really did look like Malibu Ken. And she also didn’t want to keep talking about Ethan Castle, because talking about him only distracted her from
the plan
. The first time Grace set eyes on Blain Halloway, she’d been ten years old and he’d lent her his water wings for the family pool. He was a boy with everything she wanted in the world—a real family, an easy way with people, and a dazzling smile. How could there be anyone else for her? “Blain and I
are
destined to be together. He’s a sensible guy. We practically grew up together. He’s looking for a family and a future right here, whereas Ethan is just a loner and a wanderer.”

“Grace, you’re hopeless! I’m not talking about
marrying
Ethan Castle. I’m saying you should call him and let him know that you’re available for a booty call whenever he drops back into town.”

“Molly!” Grace cried, scandalized. “Aren’t you listening to me? Blain and I are getting back together.”

“Whether he knows it or not, right?”

“That’s right,” Grace said, more determined. “I’m the girl of his dreams. And this time, I’m going to make Blain realize it. I’ve already picked out a Wonder Woman costume with a lasso of truth to entice him.”

Molly sighed. “Don’t let reality interrupt your fantasy of becoming part of the Halloway family and living happily ever after with two cherubic children to dangle on Senator Kip’s knee…we’re never going to the movies, are we?”

“I just need to finish reading this,” Grace said. “The senator really wants to get this bill passed before the election even if it means I have to work overtime.”

Molly sighed again, this time with a long-suffering roll of her eyes. “You already work overtime. That’s your normal. When are you going to learn to stop letting people push you around, Grace?”

Grace peeked up at her friend. “Not this conversation again, Mol—I can’t help it. I’m a people pleaser!”

“You’re a perpetual twelve-year-old trying to win the award for being the smartest, most well-behaved girl in the class.”

“Says the girl who spent all
her
time in the principal’s office.”

Molly smirked. “Principal Daniels was pretty cute, now that I think about it. I wonder if he aged well… Anyhow, are you saying we’re not going to be able to see a movie until your boss retires?”

“He’s
never
going to retire. I should, though.” Grace considered what it might be like to quit. Sure, she’d be unemployed, but there’d be no more getting home after dark every night to her surly tabby cat. Her dinner routine would no longer consist of stuffing takeout into her mouth with one hand and opening Thurgood’s cat food with the other. No more calls from obnoxious reporters, no more suggestions from sleazy lobbyists, no more mail from psychotic constituents, and no more Crab Fests!

“If you’re not fetching the old geezer coffee, you’re covering up his mishaps,” Molly complained. “You don’t just work for Kip Halloway. It’s like you’re married to that old man.”

That was overstating it a bit, but Grace had to admit, she put up with more from her boss than anybody else she knew. “Look, when my dad left, he didn’t stick around to see me on weekends and holidays or anything. He just called my mom names and walked out on us like we were trash. If it weren’t for Kip Halloway—”

“Tell it to the voters,” Molly said, holding up a hand.

“You’re voting for him, aren’t you?”

“And face your wrath if I don’t?” Molly affected a shudder. “Is it true that a constituent called to complain, and Senator Halloway called him right back and told him off?”

Grace’s stomach soured at the idea that this little anecdote had made it into the papers. “Senator Halloway always speaks his mind. And I think voters like that about him.”

“You’d better hope so.”

…

Red and gold leaves carpeted the street in front of the senator’s Georgetown brownstone and Grace dodged jack-o’-lanterns as she passed through the familiar wrought iron gates. The first time she’d seen this place as a girl, she’d been awed. With its graceful turrets and decorative stonework, Halloway House had made her feel like a peasant visiting a palace.

“Gracie Girl!” the senator said, throwing the door open. “Is your mother expecting you?”

Grace raised an eyebrow. Had he forgotten? “You asked me to go over the environmental bill with you tonight, sir. You said it couldn’t wait until Monday.”

He’d also told her that he didn’t care if she had to break another movie date with Molly because there would always be other movies, but there was only one planet to save. So she’d canceled her plans with Molly,
again
. She’d driven all the way to Georgetown,
again
. And now he didn’t remember?

She watched him grope for a recollection with a sort of desperate and sad expression on his face, until suddenly his eyes lit up. “Ah, yes. Talk to me about the Chesapeake Bay…”

Grace spent the better part of her evening working with the senator. She had a better grasp of the policy details, but once Kip Halloway’s keen mind kicked in, he pointed out more than a few places where the language of the bill needed to be changed.

After a few hours, when it was time for the nurse to check his blood pressure, Grace slipped away to the kitchen where her mother was fixing dinner. Mama’s big brown eyes brightened and after she’d wiped her plump hands on her apron, she pulled Grace into a quick, damp embrace. “All done with work,
mija
?”

“For tonight, anyway,” Grace said, then caught a glimmer of a smile from the other side of the kitchen. It was Blain, who greeted her with a nod of his chin. She was glad to see him. She nearly sighed in relief, in fact. They’d have a nice family dinner together; maybe it would help him to remember how well they
fit
together in each other’s lives.

Of course, at the moment, Blain was talking on the phone to the campaign treasurer, and turned his back to her. Then an altogether familiar and thrilling voice stopped Grace in her tracks.

“He’s had his chance,” Ethan said. “And he’s never going to come through for you. It’s time to take a risk on somebody new.”

Whirling around, Grace came face-to-face with the small under-the-cabinet television, where Ethan Castle proceeded to school the pundit sitting on the other side of the table. “That’s the pitch you make to the electorate when you’re an unknown,” Ethan continued. “That’s how you win a campaign. You make it a referendum on the incumbent. You don’t—”

“What’s the matter,
mija
?” Mama asked, drowning out the television with the noises of cupboard doors shutting in her hurry to get dinner on the table. “You look pale.”

“I just can’t stand that show,” Grace said, shaking her head clear of the surreal sensation of having Ethan in the room with her when he was hundreds of miles away. Finding the remote, she turned the show off with a violent flick of her finger.
Keep it together, Grace.
“Mama, what can I help you with?”

“You can set the table. The vegetables are already blanched and chicken enchiladas are in the oven. I’m just working on the chocolate now.” Her mother seemed to have things well in hand. The chocolate molds were on the counter and ready to go, and the familiarity of watching her mother mix chocolate with chili pepper was comforting.

When Grace was a little kid she always wanted her mother to experiment with other flavors like cherry or almond, but now that she was all grown up she thought, why risk ruining the whole batch with new ingredients? What if it didn’t taste right? Even if it tasted
delicious
, would she really want to eat cherry-flavored chocolate the rest of her life?

At least Grace knew she could live with chocolate and a pinch of chili pepper…

“Yikes, but what about the senator’s sweet tooth? You’re only going to tempt him.”

Mama threw up her hands. “I give him one piece a night. His doctor agreed. Chocolate’s good for the heart,
mija
.”

“Right,” Blain said, finishing his phone call and stooping to give her mother a quick hug. “Save some for me, will you, Florencia?”

“You’re not staying?” Grace asked.

Blain shook his blond head. “Sorry, I’ve got a meeting.”

“But it’s Sunday night,” Grace objected, though she knew weekends had little meaning for campaign managers.

“It’s just dinner,” he said, smooching her cheek. “But we’re still on for Halloween, right? I’ll call you.”

…

Annihilated
. That’s the only word to describe what Ethan just did to the mouthpiece for the White House. He’d exposed his talking points, destroyed his arguments, and wrecked his composure on national television.

And it really ought to have felt a lot better.

Trying to bask in his victory, Ethan sucked down the contents of a water bottle while his rival continued to sputter. “That didn’t have to get so ugly, Castle.”

“It’s nothing personal,” Ethan said. “Except for the part where your boss is trying to destroy the country…”

“You’re a dick.”

Yeah
. He kind of had been. More than usual, he thought. Lately, everything about his job made him impatient and fractious. He thought it would make him feel better to confront Grace Santiago about why they’d broken up in law school, but now that he knew…well, her explanation hadn’t made a lot of sense. And when a chick dumps you without a good explanation, she’s just not that into you. Sometimes girls lost interest. It happened.

Just not to Ethan. And it was hard to accept that she’d lost interest, given how she’d reacted when he kissed her at the EZ-Clean. She’d practically
melted
into his arms. She was soft and syrupy and made all those little adorable sighs at the back of her throat as if she’d been waiting years for someone to kiss her like that.

He’d left her wanting more. Which is exactly how he left most women. But Grace was still under his skin, and not just because she represented an unsolved question in his life anymore. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to do a lot more than kiss her. But he didn’t even have her goddamned cell phone number.

Oh, he’d sent his assistant hunting for it, but apparently there were government officials working for spy agencies who could learn a thing or two about preserving one’s privacy from Grace Santiago. The last time she’d called him had been from a phone line inside Halloway campaign headquarters. He could call Senator Halloway’s office and ask for her, but knowing Grace, that’d only piss her off. If he wanted her
private
phone number, he’d have to resort to extraordinary measures and wheedle it out of someone who worked with her.