The Gentlewoman (14 page)

“Just the shrink. And a few things with my cousin and close
friends.”

“You can talk to me,” he offered. She remained silent. “Let
me in,” he implored in a whisper.

Rory slowly turned back to face him. They looked into each
other’s eyes and she wondered why he wanted in so badly. She didn’t want to
hear the answer. She lifted her finger and slowly traced over his forehead,
down his nose and over his lips. She kissed him lightly.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, signaling there would be no
more pressing the issue.

“No, I ate at the function. That reminds me, what are you
doing tomorrow night?”

“The usual brilliant authoring of legislation.”

“Of course. Well, if you could take a break, I’m taking you
shopping.”

“Shopping?”

“Shopping. I made an appointment with one of the best
women’s boutiques in DC, I’m sure you need a new dress for the dinner Saturday
night, and I want to buy it for you.”

“You want to buy me a dress? I can buy my own dress.” She
was astounded.

“I want to treat you. I’m the one who invited you. The
stylist I’ve made an appointment with is very popular.”

“Treat me?”

Jackson laughed. “Yes, treat you. It would make me feel good
to buy you a dress and take you to the dinner. Hasn’t anybody ever done
anything like that for you?”

Rory thought about it.

“No.” Her husband had been attentive and sweet when they
first dated but his attention dwindled after they got engaged. That should have
been a clue.

“I’m taking you out and buying you a dress; I’m not taking
no for an answer. In fact, don’t make any plans for Saturday. I’ll have an
itinerary ready.”

“An itinerary? What kind of itinerary?”

“An itinerary full of surprises. Don’t even try to debate
me,” he said with finality and a big squeeze of her body before he released her
and started to get out of bed. “Now, let’s go across the hall and go to bed.”

She pulled at his arm. “We’re already in bed.”

“Rory, no offense, but I hate your bed. It’s not even a bed;
it’s a mattress on the floor. Just lying here makes me stiff as hell. When is
your new bed going to be here?”

“In a few weeks. I’m sleeping here.”

“Please, let’s sleep in my bed.” He pulled on her hand.

“No, I’m sleeping here, go sleep in your own bed if you
want.”

He paused. “Do you really want me to?”

Rory looked at him and thought about it. She answered
honestly.

“No, I like sleeping with you.”

He smiled, relieved, and crawled over her, placing his hands
on either side of her cheeks. “Good, then come sleep in my bed. I hate your
bed.” He kissed her lips gently.

“But you like me, and I’m sleeping in my bed…” She laughed
at his exasperated expression. “Okay, I’m coming. I’m sorry my bed makes you
stiff. Although I think it’s probably common among men your age. Maybe it’s not
the bed at all.”

Jackson swatted her rear. “Uh-huh. Come over to my bed, and
I’ll show you exactly how stiff I can get.”

There were two people who hadn’t committed to the shipyard
vote, Jerry Duncan of North Carolina and Joseph McNeil of Missouri. Phone
messages to both offices had gone unanswered and Rory was nervous. She needed
to see what she could muscle or trade.

She walked toward Congressman Duncan’s office on the second
floor of the Rayburn Building, wondering who you had to do in Congress to get
out of the basement. She was definitely putting that on Jill’s list of things
to find out, she thought as she arrived at suite 204 and entered the open door.
There was the obligatory reception area with a nice young lady sitting behind a
sleek computer screen.

“May I help you?”

“Hello, I’m Congresswoman Morgan of Ohio. I’m wondering if
Congressman Duncan is in.” Rory used the most genteel voice she could muster.
When in North Carolina, she thought.

“Yes, of course, Congresswoman, I’m sorry but the
congressman is in a meeting…” The interior door opened and Roy Charles stepped
out with the congressman from North Carolina. His eyes widened upon seeing her.

“Well, hello, Rory.” He took her hands and kissed her cheek.
Rory’s sixth sense immediately coiled like a spring. “What brings you to this
neck of the woods?”

Rory tilted her head and studied the head of her party
before answering.

“Well, Roy, I wanted to speak to Congressman Duncan about
supporting the appropriation for EPA that would help with the shipyard deal, as
you are aware.” She enunciated the last four words very slowly while searching
his face. She turned and shook hands with the congressman.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced, but we’ve been missing
each other. I would really appreciate a moment of your time.” She smiled into
the congressman’s eyes and noticed that his gaze flashed back to Roy before he
answered.

“Certainly, why don’t we talk in my office.” He turned to
Roy. “I’ll be seeing you later this evening.”

“Please, have a seat, Ms. Morgan, may I offer you a
beverage?” It was not lost on Rory that he didn’t address her by the more pro
forma Congresswoman title. Something didn’t feel right about the manner in
which Roy had acted, and the congressman was not inspiring confidence either.

“No, thank you, Congressman, I don’t mean to take up your
time.”

“That’s quite all right, Rory. What can I do for you?” Now
it was Rory. This was the first time they had ever met and he was beginning to
piss her off. “Congressman, I’m sure you’re aware my district has been working
with Trojan Japan to relocate their hull-building yards to Cleveland.” She
gazed at him to surmise the level of knowledge he had on the issue. That plus
Roy Charles’s presence might tell her something. His facial response gave
nothing away.

“I have heard about the deal. Please, go on.”

“This shipyard means a lot for the people of my district.
The jobs, ancillary industries, and taxes will mean a great deal to the economy
of Ohio.” Still his gaze was steady and ambiguous. “I’m sure you’ve reviewed
the Mark-Up Appropriations Bill and are aware of the added measure for EPA for
the environmental assessments necessary to ensure the shipyard.”

“I’m aware of the appropriations request.”

“Congressman, I’m asking for your support on the measure.”
Her gaze did not waver.

Duncan held her eyes for several moments before rising and
taking the chair next to her. He clasped his hands in his lap. She followed his
movements, but remained steady while her adrenaline spiked and her blood
pressure rose.

“Congresswoman, my vote on the measure is yours. You are,
after all, a key seat for our party. A swing state that is always important to
our national office holders come election time.” Rory’s relief was tempered.
“You know, we’ve been the minority for over two terms now. Both our president
and the Congress have enjoyed unfettered success. It gets harder every session
to make headway with our own agenda.”

“Is there something you would like me to consider?”

“Well, Rory, I think that we should be able to count on each
other to take advantage of our opportunities. For the good of the party, I hope
you remember that we should all do our part.” She stared at him, waiting for
the other shoe to quit dangling and finally drop.

“We’ll talk again. And I know that you will be an asset to
the party in every way you can. I have no reason to doubt that, do I.” She
wasn’t sure he was asking.

“No, of course not,” she replied stoically.

Jackson was anxious to get going so that he and Rory could
have a quick bite to eat before their appointment at the boutique. He was
looking forward to spending more time with her and eager to spoil her.

He was gathering his files into his briefcase when Lawrence
Page entered his office unannounced. “Dorn, how goes it?”

Jackson rounded his desk to shake the hand of his party
leader. Page was a portly man in his sixties who was shaped like an apple. If
it weren’t for that, he would be a dead ringer for Abraham Lincoln. Page was
tall and had the same dark hair and beard, his profile quite like the famous
president. The similarities ended there, however, as his integrity and courage
of character probably weren’t as strong as the great forefather, Jackson mused.

“I’m good, thank you, Larry. To what do I owe this honor?”
As if he didn’t know.

“Just wanted to come and check that our issues were going to
work on Appropriations.” He wedged himself in the leather chair opposite
Jackson’s desk.

“Our issues will be fine.”

“Are you sure, Jackson?” Page eyed him sternly.

“I’m sure, Larry. What’s this about?” he asked, looking at
his watch.

“You’re just as impatient as your uncle was when he served.
Am I keeping you? Maybe from a date with your congresswoman?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Jackson returned to his desk and
closed his briefcase.

“We’re hoping you’re keeping your head about this, boy. Her
party couldn’t get her to agree. That leaves it up to you.”

“I know that,” Jackson said curtly, leaning his hands on his
briefcase.

“You’ll trade your vote.”

Jackson dropped his head and stared at his hands. “Is there
any other way? Anything at all? Because if there is, I’d really rather go in
another direction.” He stared directly into Page’s eyes.

“No, I don’t believe there is. The president doesn’t want
this at his doorstep, but the Pentagon and State Department need it. She’s key,
Dorn. She may be the only one who can deliver.”

The room was very still as the two men gazed at each other.
Jackson swallowed and pushed his possessive feelings for Rory back down. “I
know she is.”

“This isn’t like you. You usually don’t make emotional
attachments.” Page smiled. “Perhaps she’s a perfect fit in more ways than one,
son.”

“Perhaps she is,” Jackson responded quietly.

Page rose and swaggered to the door. “Don’t be thinking with
your dick, boy. You will deliver her. And she will deliver for us,” he added as
he left the room.

“Fuck me.” Jackson scrubbed his face with his hand. What a
fucking mess. He was stuck between delivering on his promises for the party and
what he wanted with Rory. He was falling in love with her and wanted to protect
her, but he knew he couldn’t. There was no way to avoid what was coming, and he
prayed it didn’t kill what was growing between them. He wanted her more than
any other woman he had ever known. For the first time in a long time, maybe
more than ten years, he felt fear over losing someone he loved.

They arrived at Boutique Fayon and were greeted by two very
attentive, very pretty sales associates. Camille and Danielle were both dressed
impeccably in a lot of color, Rory thought, oranges and neon pink. They showed
Rory and Jackson to a large pink sofa in a room completely surrounded by
mirrors and pink satin drapery. They giggled a lot and blushed as Jackson
smiled at them. Rory was sure they both needed a good meal, their emaciated
state surely attributable to negligible diet.

She rolled her eyes as she accepted a cappuccino and was
relieved when an older woman with a more businesslike attitude came to discuss
the dress. Her name was Gretta and she asked a battery of questions, trying to
gauge the type of dresses to show. It was all very serious and Rory became
nervous. Jackson grasped her hand and she smiled sheepishly at him.

“And what type of tuxedo will you be wearing, Congressman?”
Rory detected a slight accent, French perhaps?

“Armani notch lapel tux.”

“Exquisite taste. If Madame will follow me, I have a few
dresses prepared.” Rory followed, turning once to peer at Jackson before
rounding the corner into a large fitting room.

There was more pink with a raised platform and mirrors.
Gretta corralled Rory toward a partition and ordered her to strip to her
underwear. Thank God she was wearing some.

Rory eased herself out of her work clothes and poked her
head around to see that Gretta was waiting with Camille and Danielle, who had
already arranged ten or twelve dresses on a rack. They fussed with ruffles and
fabric.

Rory took a deep breath and walked out in her skivvies. She
was wearing a black bra, matching thong and thigh-high black hosiery. This was
per usual for underneath her work attire. She had always dressed smartly; still
she was intimidated as the Dolce & Gabana twins sized her up.

One of the girls came forward and immediately began taking
measurements, calling out the scores. Gretta eyed Rory and shook her head. She
dug through a cabinet and came back with a black strapless bustier. Rory’s bra
was removed and she was cinched up in the satin garment. She had to admit that
her reflection looked very sleek and sexy.

One by one, Gretta ran her through the dresses. Rory outright
refused anything with too much color, no fuchsias or limes for her. She settled
on several. They were all the best designers, Roberto Cavalli, Elie Saab,
Roland Mouret, and Oscar de la Renta. She didn’t want to look at the price
tags.

They narrowed the field to three dresses and encouraged Rory
to model them for Jackson, who was reading the newspaper on the pink sofa. When
she entered in a black Stella McCartney gown, Jackson’s double take told her he
liked what he saw. He smiled and sat up straighter, dropping the newspaper to
the side.

“This is one contender,” she said shyly, his eyes shining at
hers. She walked to a platform she hadn’t noticed before and Gretta and the
girls followed. A little flushed from the attention, she watched in the mirror
while they fluffed and fussed. After a moment, she returned to the dressing
room to try the next dress.

Jackson was equally as attentive when she emerged in a light
peach gown by Roland Mouret. It was fitted and covered one shoulder, a very
sexy dress.

“They keep getting better,” he murmured when she stood
before the mirrors, the ladies fussing and sizing her up as they turned her in
every direction.

Finally she entered in the last dress, a red Oscar de la
Renta fishtail gown. The bottom was ruffled and it smoothed snugly over her
torso and backside, rising to cup her full breasts in the strapless sweetheart
neckline. Very form fitting, it showed off her hourglass figure perfectly.
Jackson rose from the sofa.

“That’s perfect, Rory. You look beautiful.” She blushed and
the ladies smiled up at her from their crouched positions. “That’s the dress
for you. We’ll take it,” Jackson stated unequivocally to Gretta.

There was a flurry of activity as the ladies discussed
alterations and pinned here and there. Rory held Jackson’s gaze in the mirror,
the heat in his stare sending a shiver through her body. She flushed when her
nipples hardened beneath the dress. Finally they returned to the dressing room
where she was efficiently undressed. The two girls pushed the cart of dresses
from the room and Gretta went to fetch matching Jimmy Choos.

Rory looked into the mirror, sweeping her hair off her neck.
The curtain parted behind her and Jackson stepped onto the platform, his hands
going to either hip, heat radiating. Her arms went around his neck as he kissed
her, his hands smoothing down both naked ass cheeks.

“You looked so sexy in that dress, baby.” He ran his lips
from her mouth to her neck. “I’m such a lucky man.” He cupped her ass. “I want
to fuck you right here and now I’m so turned on from watching you in those
dresses.” He placed one hand on her breast, running his thumb over her
distended nipple, visible through the satin.

“You’re going to have to wait ’til we get home,” she
whispered, lowering her hand in between them to brush over his crotch, feeling
his heavy erection straining against his slacks. “So let’s get going,” she
added before he took her lips again.