Under His Protection (24 page)

No way could she admit the relief tinged
with guilt she’d felt the night of the election. Her father’s loss
meant she wouldn’t have to be under the public eye any longer.
They’d find someone else to focus on, make fun of and poke at.

Thank goodness.

“Perfect. Well.” Her mother smiled, a
scheming gleam alighting her blue eyes. “I have someone I want you
to meet. It’s Senator Wheldon’s son. He’s thirty, a lawyer on
Capitol Hill and very handsome. He graduated Princeton, you know.
And he’s from a very prestigious family too.”

It sounded as if her mother had just rattled
off his pedigree and resume all in one. “I’m not interested.”

Her mother frowned, breaking her own advice.
No dreary looks allowed.
“Blake, you must start moving in
the proper social circles. Find a nice man and eventually become
engaged. It’s what’s expected.”

“By who?” She turned to look at her mother,
her expression icy, she could feel it. Anger simmered in her blood
and she wanted to announce to the entire room she’d already found
her perfect match. And then promptly lost him.

“Don’t be argumentative.” Her mother shot
her the same icy expression and turned to scan the crowd. The
glittering fabric of the ivy green dress she wore shone brightly
beneath the lights, and Blake thought she’d never seen her look so
beautiful.

But her mother was always impeccably
dressed, perfectly coiffed. Pleasantly polite and quiet,
well-spoken, the right answer always falling from her lips.

Her mother fervently wished Blake would end
up exactly like her.

“I don’t want to meet him,” Blake muttered,
smiling at a passerby who flashed her a warm smile in return.

“You
will
meet him. I’ll find you
later and introduce you. I’m going to mingle now. I suggest you do
the same.”

Blake watched her mother glide away, smiling
and nodding at those she passed.

God. Blake swallowed hard, wishing for
another glass of champagne, anything to wash away the bitterness
that consumed her. Bitterness at the loss of the one man she loved,
at the way her parents treated her, at the way they expected her to
behave.

She was too old for this. She’d been under
their guidance too far into adulthood and their grip didn’t look
like it would lessen any time soon. She needed to get away, make a
stand for herself, show some independence.

But how?

A waiter approached, a handsome young man
with a quick smile and friendly brown eyes. She plucked the glass
from his tray and raised it to him in a silent toast. He nodded
with a not so subtle wink.

Yes, indeed, already she was on the right
track showcasing that independence. Getting drunk at the family
holiday party and mildly flirting with the help, not that it meant
anything. She’d roll her eyes at herself if she could, but she’d
probably drawn too much attention. The wrong kind of attention, her
mother would say.

She really needed to get out of here.

When she saw her father approach, she wanted
to bolt. Drop the glass and run as far and as fast as possible,
afraid of what he might say. Her mother had been enough
already.

Instead, she stood straighter, smiling as he
walked toward her. The look in his eyes was strangely compelling.
Thoughtful.

“Are you all right?” He took both of her
hands and squeezed. “Your hands are like ice.”

“It’s cold in here.” It really wasn’t that
bad. She just didn’t know what else to say.

“Hmm.” He frowned. “All of these bodies
crushed close together, I thought it was too warm. Did I tell you
that you look lovely this evening?”

“Yes, you already did.” She dipped her head,
unable to meet her father’s gaze. “Thank you.”

“Trying to catch a young man’s eye?”

Her head popped up. She noticed something in
her father’s tone of voice, something she didn’t recognize. “If
Mother has her way, then I guess so. But I’m not interested.”

“Really?” James Hewitt cocked a brow and
squeezed her hands tighter. “You know, Blake, I’ve made a lot of
mistake, but I’ve only ever wanted to ensure you were happy.”

She stayed silent, unsure how to reply.

“And I’ve had your best interests at heart,
but you always seemed to find a way to defy me.”

“We shouldn’t talk about this here. It’ll
upset you,” she murmured, unable to bear hearing one more word at
what a disappointment she’d proven to be.

“You’re not listening to what I’m saying.
I’m trying to admit I’ve been wrong.” Her head whipped up, her eyes
going wide when she saw the sincere expression on his face. “You’re
a grown woman, yet we treat you like a child. And we shouldn’t.
You’re our only child and it’s still hard to think of you as an
adult. But you’re old enough to make your own decisions, whether
they be right or wrong. We should stand by and offer our support,
nothing more, nothing less.”

Her mouth gaped open. What brought on her
father’s dramatic change of heart? “Why are you saying this
now?”

“You’ve been so miserable these last few
weeks. It hurts me to see you so...sad. There’s no light inside of
you, no fire. And there’s always a bit of fire in my Blake.”

Tears misted her eyes and she blinked them
away. She wasn’t the same because she lost the man she loved. That
would change anyone.

“I’m saying that if you want something bad
enough, you should go find it.” He let her hands drop and leaned
toward her, his voice lowering. “And when you find it, you
shouldn’t let it go. Ever.”

Her father kissed her cheek and then walked
away, leaving her shocked and dazed in the middle of the crowded
family room. She stood next to a twinkling twelve-foot fully
decorated Christmas tree with wobbly knees. She wished she had
something to hold onto for support but would probably send the tree
toppling to the floor if she tried to grab one of its overloaded
branches.

She glanced about the room, looking for
what, she didn’t know. Confusion flooded her and she wondered again
at her father’s cryptic words. What did he refer to? And why the
sudden shift in his opinion of her?

It didn’t make any sense. Unless someone had
spoken to the normally impenetrable James Hewitt and convinced him
she wasn’t so bad after all.

A pianist began to play a traditional
Christmas carol and Blake sighed, nostalgia flooding her. The
holidays were both a curse and a blessing. She loved them, but
hated that she usually spent them alone.

And it looked as if she would suffer through
them alone once again. If she closed her eyes tight and made a
wish, would it come true? She’d played that game often when she was
a child and sometimes, it had worked.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled
with awareness and she turned, scanning the many faces before her.
Someone watched her, she could feel it. She started to move, her
skirt flaring wide and the crowd parted for her as she moved
through the room.

The urgent need to find...someone took over
and she tilted her head, looking for a sign. And when her eyes alit
upon that sign, she gasped so loud, the guests who stood nearby
turned to look at her.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe.

It was Mason.

* * * *

Nerves buzzed through Mason, making him
anxious. He clutched the glass in his hand though didn’t drink from
it. He wanted no alcohol in his system, rarely drank the stuff for
fear of losing that tightly reined-in control he liked to keep.

He’d come to DC yesterday to take part in
the final interview of his investigation. James Hewitt had been
waiting, wanting to speak with him in private once the interview
was finished.

Mason had practically quaked in his shoes.
What did Blake’s father want to talk about? Of course, Hewitt knew
exactly what happened while they were on Whitney Island. Blake had
confessed much of it in the hopes she could convince the internal
investigators that Mason wasn’t at fault for what happened.

Was the VP angry? Ready to berate him for
what Mason had done to his daughter? Mason could take it,
would
take it with every shred of dignity he could muster.
And then he would confess his love for Blake. That his intentions
had been true, and he’d never meant to hurt her.

Something shocking happened in the meeting,
though. The investigation was concluded—and they didn’t find Mason
at fault, most likely thanks to Blake’s input. Then they informed
him of his new assignment—working detail in the White House,
starting as soon as he was fully recovered.

Stunned, he’d agreed and they decided on a
late January start date, soon after the inauguration of the new
president. He’d been fully prepared for more hostile questioning.
Instead, they’d offered him a job, an actual promotion. He hadn’t
felt this positive, this happy since he last spoke with Blake.

When she’d quit calling him, it was as if
his world had crumbled. He’d gone back home, much to the urgent
requests of his parents, specifically his mother, and started his
recovery there. Still with no word from Blake.

Mason figured she didn’t want him anymore.
During his darkest moments, he’d assumed she might have found
someone new. But he never saw her in the gossip magazines or blogs
and damn his hide, he’d checked. It was as if she’d gone
underground, never to be heard from again.

His heart ached at the possibility of that
being remotely true.

Wary when he entered the conference room to
speak with Hewitt, he’d been startled yet again at the Vice
President’s seeming acceptance of him. Hewitt had even called him a
hero.

When he mentioned Blake’s name, Mason had
gone completely still, waiting to hear any little morsel he could
get. Like why she hadn’t contacted him, checked on him to see if he
was all right? It hurt, not hearing from her when he’d be laid up
for the last six weeks. He’d taken it as a sign.

A sign she didn’t want him. He’d never told
her how he felt about her, always keeping her at arm’s length and
that had been his downfall. He’d blown it by never telling her the
truth. At least, that’s what he believed during those long, cold
nights when his side had ached like a bitch and he couldn’t
sleep.

When Hewitt admitted he and his wife were
the reason Blake hadn’t contacted him, Mason had been floored. And
when he’d given his full permission for Mason to pursue his
daughter, he’d nearly fallen off his chair. The invitation to their
holiday party had immediately followed and he’d given a silent nod
as his answer, too shocked to speak.

Having just arrived, he was impressed with
the dazzling decorations, the opulently dressed crowd and the
delicious smelling food. He’d heard about the Hewitt’s holiday
parties, though he’d never been lucky enough to attend. Not even as
an agent on duty.

Craning his neck, he searched for Blake. The
real reason he was here. Murmurings about how beautiful she looked
tonight had surrounded him only moments earlier, when he’d stood
near the bar, his entire body aching to see her.

Did she know he would be in attendance
tonight? Would she be happy to see him? After hearing Hewitt
express worry over Blake’s dismal mood since returning from
California, Mason could only hope the answer was yes.

He tugged at the neck of his shirt,
uncomfortable in the monkey suit. Hewitt warned the party was a
formal affair so Mason scrambled to find a tux. It had been months
since he’d worn a suit on a regular basis and he’d grown used to
the casual clothes he now wore.

Tonight though, was all about impressions.
Impressing Blake, impressing upon her parents how serious his
intentions were when it came to their daughter. How much he wanted
to be a part of her life.

Forever, if she’d have him.

He intended to do right by Blake. He wanted
her by his side, hopefully for the rest of his life. It had always
scared him, the thought of marriage, of pledging his life and love
to a woman until the day he died, amen.

For Blake, he would do anything, everything
it took. He loved her. So much, it hurt.

Mason frowned. Damn it, the woman turned him
into a sap. And for once, he wasn’t going to fight it.

Taking a sip of his champagne, he grimaced
and glanced about the room. A flash of red caught his eye and he
took a step forward, then another. Blonde hair touched by red and
green glimmered like fine spun gold beneath the light from the
grand chandeliers hanging overhead. He knew by the swift kick to
his heart it was Blake.

He saw her, all of her, and it was as if
time stood still. Everything and everyone around her faded until
all he saw was her. She took his breath away, clad in a bold red
dress that emphasized the creamy softness of her skin, the lush
curves of her figure. Her slim shoulders were bare, the long,
elegant column of her neck on display and when he saw her face, he
knew.

Raw, aching emotion was etched all over her
delicate features, her blue eyes cloudy as she looked around the
room. She appeared lost, lonely and he swore right then that
expression would never cross her face again.

Not if he had anything to do with it.

Mason headed toward her as fast as he could,
his fading injuries hindering his movement. Every determined step
brought him closer to the woman he loved and when she glanced up,
her steady blue gaze meeting his, all the color drained from her
face, her ruby red lips parting in surprise.

She had no idea he’d be there, which pleased
him. That he could surprise her with his presence and was about to
declare his love for her, made him nervous. He wanted to give her
everything, be her everything. And he could only hope she would
accept what he had to offer.

Blake gaped at him as he approached. Her
eyes shiny with unshed tears, he reached for her and she went
willingly into his arms. He crushed her to him, her soft, curvy
body fitting perfectly to his. The sigh of relief that escaped him,
of being able to touch her again, was indescribable.