The Senator's Wife (16 page)

“I didn’t like it,” Ronnie said slowly. She wore a summer suit in soft yellow silk, knee-length, conservative. Tom had hauled it out of her closet that morning
himself, along with sensible two-inch pumps, which were the very antithesis of the sexy sandals he’d taken off her feet the night before. “I
don’t
like it. But very few things in this world are perfect. Our marriage certainly isn’t. But we both want it to work, and are committed to making it work. I look on what happened as a challenge that will in the end just make our marriage stronger.”

Bravo!
Tom was bowled over. She had taken every word and phrase he had been drumming into her head day after day and used them, by God. While the audience applauded her answer, she looked over their heads at him. He gave her a discreet thumbs-up, and a proud smile.

Considering, he decided he felt kind of like Frankenstein observing the first stirrings of his monster.

After that, there were the interviews, which went well, and then a quick lunch, grabbed on the way to the airport. Ronnie laughed a lot as they ate McDonald’s hamburgers in the car, mostly at Kenny’s and Thea’s quips from the backseat, because Tom wasn’t talking much. Ronnie rode in the front seat beside him, not touching him, not addressing so much as a single remark directly to him, but there. If she had been an eight-hundred-pound gorilla, he couldn’t have been more aware of her presence. Though he steadfastly kept his attention on the road, his peripheral vision couldn’t miss the crossing and uncrossing of her slim legs, the sensuous way she shifted her rear around to get more comfortable in her seat, the quick glances she sent his way.

He turned the air-conditioning up to full-blast, and still he felt as if he were burning up.

“Hey, bud, you’re awful quiet today,” Kenny said, punching his shoulder in good-humored reproof as they pulled into the airport.

“Probably because I was up all night,” Tom growled before he thought. Ronnie’s eyes immediately went wide on his face. Before she could say anything, Tom added hastily, with a silencing glance in her direction, “Kenny sent me on a wild-goose chase in the middle of the night, looking for something he thought got misplaced. He turned out to be wrong, though. The object was just where it was supposed to be all along.”

“Hey, Ronnie, Kenny thought you’d gone out to some bar dancing,” Thea elucidated with an amused gurgle from the backseat. “He sent Tom out after you.”

“Kenny was wrong,” Tom said coolly, while Ronnie managed an amused smile at the absurdity of such a notion. With a flicker of surprise he realized that Thea must have been the “company” in Kenny’s room. How else could she know what had gone on? The funny thing about it was, she had been coming on to Tom like a house afire for the last two weeks. Obviously Thea wasn’t too particular about where she bestowed her favors.

The plane ride home was no better than the car. It was a small turboprop, chartered for campaign use, and the noise of its engines limited the need for polite conversation. Still, in self-defense, Tom put his head back on the headrest and pretended to sleep. But Ronnie sat close enough to him so that her arm brushed his every time she moved. He could hear the silken slither of her pantyhose-clad thighs every time she crossed and uncrossed her legs. He could smell her perfume.

The same damn perfume.

By the time the plane landed, he was so hard he was surprised he could stand up. Walking normally was an effort.

Through some snafu, the limo that was supposed to convey Ronnie safely back to Sedgely had not shown up. The other three had left their own cars at the airport so that they could drive themselves home.

“I’ll give you a ride, Ronnie,” Thea offered as they walked out into the pickup area and it became obvious that Ronnie’s car was nowhere to be seen.

Tom was all for whipping out his cell phone and giving the limo company a blistering directive to get that damned car here
now
, but he was hampered by the fact that he was carrying both his and Ronnie’s suitcases, and his own briefcase. Kenny was lugging his and Thea’s luggage in a division of labor that said volumes about the state of various relationships, Tom thought, if anyone had noticed and thought about it.

He devoutly hoped no one had and did.

“Thanks, Thea, but Tom can take me home. I want to talk to him anyway,” Ronnie said sunnily. She spoke as if wanting to talk to
Tom
was the most natural thing in the world, which Tom supposed it was if one didn’t have any idea what the subject of the conversation was likely to be.

“Sure,” he said, because there was no way to put her off without attracting the kind of notice neither one of them needed. Besides, the conversation had to be held sometime. He was a coward for wishing to delay it as long as possible.

The dark clouds gathering in the sky to the west were emblematic of his mood. Ronnie walked beside
him to his car, not speaking but happy, he could tell. Her moods were as easy to read as the weather. Though the sky was overcast, it was stiflingly hot and humid. The air was still in anticipation of the coming storm. Even the windsock at the end of one runway hung straight down.

Ronnie waved to Thea as the woman got into a nearby car. Kenny was still walking, heading off to the right. Tom set the suitcases on the pavement behind the car, unlocked the trunk, then opened the driver’s and passenger’s door before putting the key in the ignition and turning on the air-conditioning.

When he finished stowing the luggage in the trunk, Ronnie was already in the car with her door shut.

Feeling like a man on the way to his own execution, he walked around to the driver’s-side door and got in.

Chapter
17

“I
CALLED FROM THE HOTEL
in Tupelo and canceled
the
limousine,” Ronnie said as Tom pulled out into the long stream of cars leaving the airport. “So don’t you go yelling at them.”

Despite the fact that she was battling the effects of a slight hangover and very little sleep, she felt ebullient. No longer was she a Stepford wife. She’d broken out, busted loose, and reclaimed her personhood. And, not incidentally, started an affair with Tom.

Tom glanced at her. The lines that surrounded his eyes and bracketed his mouth were more pronounced than usual, she thought, and his face was set in stern lines. With a slight inward smile, she attributed his grim look to lack of sleep.

“Did you?”

His brief reply was the opposite of encouraging. Ronnie frowned at him. The dark clouds that had started in the west now filled the sky. A few fat drops of rain splattered on the windshield.

“You don’t mind driving me home.” It was a statement rather than a question. She knew he didn’t mind.
The curious intimacy that had sprung up between them that first day had taken root and grown stronger. He was her ally, her friend, her confidant, as well as nearly her lover. She felt as if she could almost read his mind.

Tom glanced at her again, then shook his head to indicate he didn’t mind. More raindrops fell. He turned on the wipers. The swishing sound they made was rhythmic and soothing. The inside of the car was growing cool as the air-conditioning began to kick in.

“It was very gentlemanly of you to pretend like I never went out anywhere last night. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“What is this, your strong, silent side?” Ronnie asked with a trace of amused exasperation after another couple of minutes of silence on his part. “You haven’t said two complete sentences all day.”

“Ronnie …,” he began, and hesitated. The light they were approaching turned red, and he braked. The car stopped. They were the third car in line to turn right off Brandon Road onto Highway 80. The rain was starting to fall in earnest now, huge drops that made the pavement steam as they hit.

“Not that I mind. I think strong, silent men are sexy. Actually I think you’re sexy, whether you’re being strong and silent or not.” She said it humorously, tenderly, and he sent her an unreadable glance. Seizing the opportunity, she undid her lap belt, ducked under her shoulder belt, rose up on one knee, and leaned toward him. Gripping his shoulder with one hand for balance, she slid the other hand behind his neck and bent her head to kiss his mouth. He went very still for a moment. Then he kissed her back. Thoroughly, his
lips hard, his tongue exploring her mouth, his hand sliding under her hair to cradle her head.

A horn honked behind them once, twice, impatiently. He gripped her waist and pushed her firmly back into her seat. The car started to move again. They had been holding up traffic as they kissed.

“You should have woken me up last night,” she told him with a tiny smile as she refastened her lap belt.

“Dammit, Ronnie.” He paused, shooting her another one of those unreadable glances. “I
deliberately
didn’t wake you up last night.”

Ronnie frowned.

“I know you think that last night was the kickoff to us having some sort of love affair, or something. It wasn’t. It was just part of my job.”

“What?” Ronnie demanded after a flabbergasted instant, torn between outrage and amused disbelief at the absurd statement. “Are you trying to say that kissing me and taking my shirt off and carrying me to bed are part of your
job?
”

“
You
kissed
me
, you took your own shirt off, and carrying you to bed was the best way I could think of to get you there—to sleep. I did what I had to to get you out of that bar and back to the hotel, and to sleep so that you’d be in decent enough shape to give your speech this morning.”

Something about his expression told her that this was not some unfunny joke: He was serious. Rain was pouring down all around them now, in an unending silver curtain. Traffic slowed as drivers tried to deal with the sudden deluge.

“I don’t believe you!”

His jaw hardened. “It’s the truth.”

“All right, maybe I did kiss you first, when we were dancing, but after that you were all over me like jelly on peanut butter! Just like you kissed me back just now! Don’t tell me you were faking it, not any of it! I know better!”

The glance he sent her this time was stark and cold. “You’re a beautiful woman. Sure, you can make me want you, especially when you come on to me like you did last night. I’m human. But I never had any intention of having sex with you. I was hired to handle you, and that is what I did.”

Ronnie could feel her face flaming. Fury boiled up inside her, a fury so hot and fierce that she could hardly see.

“You—
jerk!
” she said, and hauled off and slapped him as hard as she could across the face.

Brakes squealed, the car swerved, and for a moment they were fishtailing all over the place. Then he got the car under control and pulled off to the side of the road. His face as he put the gearshift into park was almost as white as hers was flushed. As he turned to look at her his eyes blazed with anger; his mouth was tight with it. Across his cheek to the bridge of his nose lay the reddening imprint of her hand.

Freeing himself from his seat belt in two quick movements, he reached over and grabbed her upper arms, pushing her back against her door and looming over her menacingly.

“You want to know what would make me a jerk?” he said through his teeth as she glared up at him. “I’d be a jerk if I had sex with a woman who came on to me because she’d had too much to drink. I’d be a jerk if I had sex with a woman who was my client, and whose
family I was friends with. I’d be a jerk if I had sex with a woman who was
married
. But I didn’t. And I’m not going to, even if I want to like hell. You know why? Because it’s not worth the trouble it would cause.
She’s
not worth the trouble it would cause.”

He let go of her arms and returned to his seat, refastened his seat belt, and restarted the car. His face could have been carved from granite as he pulled the car back out onto the rain-drenched highway. His hands gripped the steering wheel as though he wished it were her neck. A tiny, telltale muscle jumped at the corner of his mouth.

Quivering with anger, Ronnie slumped back in her own seat, shooting him venomous glances and rubbing her arms where he had gripped them. He hadn’t hurt her, not really, but she wanted to make him think he had so that he would feel guilty, though guilt appeared to be the furthest thing from his thoughts.

They drove in silence for perhaps fifteen minutes, passing through downtown rush-hour traffic as people just getting off work were slowed by the weather. It was only about 5:45, but it was almost as dark as night because of the driving rain.

“I don’t suppose I have to say this, but I’m going to anyway,” Ronnie said when she had enough control of her voice to speak. “You’re fired.”

He laughed, the sound short and unamused. “You can’t fire me, remember?”

“You said you’d quit anytime I wanted you to, and I want you to!”

“I lied.”

Ronnie drew in a ragged little breath. “You’re good at that, aren’t you? Lying?”

The color had come back into his face so that the imprint of her hand was barely visible. He seemed to have gotten his temper under control. Ronnie’s, on the other hand, still raged like a brushfire inside her, though she was fighting not to let it show. To let him see the extent of her anger was to let him know how badly he had hurt her, and her pride would not allow that.

“You’ve got an interview with
Ladies’ Home Journal
Monday, at two o’clock,” he said evenly. “I’ll be by around one to go over everything with you beforehand. And it would be a nice idea if you were to get your picture taken going to church tomorrow. With your husband.”

“I won’t work with you anymore.”

He glanced at her. He looked as if he was almost back to normal now, except for a faint hardness about his mouth and eyes.

“You will work with me. You will work with me because I am doing a hell of a job for you, whether you want to admit it right now or not. Thanks to me, His Honor’s recovering from his little misstep, and your popularity is climbing. I am also one of the few people around you who is on your side, rather than your husband’s. That’s something I’d think about if I were you.”