But clearly she thought he did. He watched her cheeks redden slightly in the mirror, and a jolt shot through him. He knew immediately that whatever it was he’d felt at Franklin’s house, she’d felt it, too. And she felt it now, the same way he did, the awareness hanging in the air between them.
He choked back a curse, even as his pulse kicked into a higher gear. Even more reason why they would be better off splitting up.
“We’re not talking about me,” he said. “We’re talking about you. I still think you would be safer—”
She raised her chin. “If we’re talking about danger, we
should
be talking about you. I’m not going to be completely safe no matter where I am, so I might as well go. But you’re much more recognizable than I am, so the danger is greater for you. So if you’re that worried about danger, you can stay behind. I would understand. But I’m going.”
Her jaw tight, she focused her attention on the mirror, her tense body language daring him to argue with her.
Oh, hell.
She had him and she knew it. A reluctant grin nearly pulled at the corner of his mouth before he killed the impulse. He’d known she was smart and tough. Hal had told him that much. They may not have spent much time together, but it seemed Hal had known exactly who she was.
There was obviously no way he was letting her go on to Barrett’s Mill by herself. There was no question it was going to be risky, but it was a risk that needed to be taken. By both of them, it seemed.
Damn it.
“Fine,” he said, barely managing to keep the frustration from his tone, “we’ll both go.”
She displayed none of the smugness he might have expected at getting her way. Instead, after a long moment, her eyes slowly slid to his. And held.
His tension returned in a burst. He could tell from her expression she felt it, too, and was equally uneasy about it. It suddenly occurred to him that maybe she hadn’t been trying to convince him to let her come, as he’d assumed. Maybe she really had been trying to ditch him the same way he’d been trying to ditch her. Evidently, neither of them wanted to stay too close to the other. The idea gave him no pleasure. It just meant they were both going to have to deal with whatever this inexplicable thing was between them.
Her gaze finally slid away again. “Good,” she said. “I’m almost done in here and the room will be all yours.”
“Great.” With some effort, this time he did manage to make himself turn away. He moved back to the door of the room and fastened the chain, checking that the lock was bolted. Going to the window, he pushed the curtain aside slightly with the tip of one finger, just enough that he could get a decent view of the scene outside. The parking lot remained clear. No cars appeared to have arrived since he’d come in, and no one was in sight. It looked like they were still safe for the moment.
So why did he feel anything but?
Probably because he could still sense her there behind him in the bathroom. Could still picture how she looked in that shirt, in those shorts…
Choking back a groan, he closed his eyes briefly and gave his head a shake.
He knew they needed to split up, that he needed to get away from her. He should have figured out a way to convince her. He’d only been back for five minutes and he was already this much on edge. He didn’t even want to think about how many hours lay ahead until dawn. He nearly groaned again at the thought.
Damn.
It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Five
As he often did on mornings when he was at the farm, Dick Bridges stood on the back balcony of his family home and surveyed the scene beyond. This location off his bedroom always offered a stirring view, the vast acreage of the Bridges homestead stretching into the horizon. The land had been in his family for generations, and seeing it always gave him a distinct sense of satisfaction, reminding him of who he was, where he had come from, the rich heritage to which be belonged.
Now, though, he focused his attention on the lawn directly below the balcony, thinking more of the future than the past. The lawn was empty now, the greenery lush and vibrant in the early morning sunlight. In three days, it would be filled with people who had come to hear his son announce his candidacy for president of this country. He could picture it clearly, as he had numerous times over the years. The mass of eager, smiling faces. The cheers and applause filling the air. The banners emblazoned with the name Richard Bridges. His son’s name, as well as his own.
Once, when he’d imagined such a day, it was his own moment he had dreamed of—the smiling faces, the cheers and applause there for him alone. But when that day had come, the reality had fallen far short of the dream. The crowd had been disappointing, the cheers underwhelming. And he’d known before his campaign had even begun that he was going to lose. He wasn’t going to be president of this great nation.
He could still taste the bitterness of that knowledge, and he frowned, his fingers tightening on the railing. He was familiar with what people thought of him, all the negatives that had been listed against him over the years. He was too cold. Too ambitious. Even when he tried to be pleasant and affable, there was a hardness to him he couldn’t quite hide that turned people off. It was why his own political career had never advanced further than it had. His mouth curled in a sneer. Too many people acted as though they were electing someone to be their best friend, rather than a strong, qualified leader, the fools.
But this was going to be different. Everyone loved Rich, everyone knew Rich was going to win. The other side was having a difficult time finding a candidate to launch even a token opposition. No, when this Richard Bridges stood before that crowd, it was going to be a moment of victory before a single vote was cast. And Dick would be there, standing behind his son on the stage whose pieces were waiting below to be assembled, basking in that applause as though it were for him at last.
His smile returned, the warmth of that moment filling him as though it was happening right now. The relentless drive, the open ambition, that had been considered a weakness for his own career was exactly what had brought them all to the brink of success. When it had seemed that his son was too weak, when it had appeared the boy would ruin everything, it was he who had taken the necessary steps to ensure the future he’d dreamed of would come to fruition. He had no regrets about any of it. He’d done only what he’d had to. And his job wasn’t done. As Rich’s campaign manager, he would use that drive others had considered a negative to propel his son straight to the White House.
Determination hardening inside him, he thought of another day soon to come. Larger crowds. Greater applause. The crowning achievement of his life.
Rich’s inauguration day. When Richard Bridges, the man Dick had given his own name for this very reason, would be sworn in as President of the United States.
Some might think it was premature to even imagine such a thing. After all, anything could happen in the next two years.
Dick knew better. Nothing would happen. He wouldn’t let it. Just as he hadn’t let it before.
Nothing could stop them now. Nothing would be allowed to.
Nothing.
T
HE FIRST THING
A
UDREY
saw as they approached their destination was a sign on the outskirts of town declaring
W
elcome to Barrett’s Mill, Hometown of U.S. Senator Richard Bridges. The sight of that name grabbed her attention and held it as they approached, the letters looming larger, seeming more and more like a threat, the closer they came to the sign. Despite her determination to come, she’d been increasingly uneasy all morning, and now they were finally here, the sight of that name driving it home.
No doubt about it. This was Bridges’s domain. They were definitely headed straight into the heart of enemy territory.
She released a pent-up breath when they moved past the sign, but even having the words out of view didn’t ease her tension.
No turning back now.
Fighting a shudder, she glanced over at Jason to see if he was similarly affected. There was no indication he was. He stared straight ahead, his expression stony.
He’d cut his hair before dyeing it, the same way she had. She’d offered to help him, even though the idea of any physical contact with him made her nervous as hell. The suggestion had made sense, especially given how long his hair had been. He’d still refused, and she hadn’t known whether to be relieved or offended, the way he couldn’t quite meet her eyes, telling her exactly why he’d turned down the offer.
He’d still done a good job of it. If she hadn’t known he’d done it himself, she never would have guessed. The cut was more flattering than the long hair he’d had before, perfectly framing his strong profile and flawless features. With his hair dyed and the sunglasses in place, he did look sufficiently different from both the pictures she’d seen and the way he’d appeared earlier, hopefully enough to keep him from being recognized. But it was also still apparent that he was a very good-looking man. Staring at his face, she felt the same rush of attraction, her heart quickening, her body responding just as it had before.
Swallowing, she forced herself to look away and focus on the map in her hands.
“Do you know how to get to the first place on the list?” he asked.
“I think so.” They’d downloaded a map of the town and a list of the motels and bed-and-breakfasts in the area, figuring their first item of business was to find a place to stay. Audrey doubted it was going to be easy. This was a relatively small community, and with Bridges holding his big campaign kickoff in just a few days, there likely wouldn’t be many rooms available, if any.
She directed him toward the first address on the list, then looked out the window to keep track of their surroundings. Her tension only grew as they moved farther into town. Red-white-and-blue banners were draped on storefronts and buildings all along the main street, almost as if it were the Fourth of July rather than early March. Signs had been put up in seemingly every window.
Welcome Home, Richard Bridges!
Bridges for President!
Vote Bridges!
The whole town seemed ready to celebrate its favorite son. Audrey could understand why Bridges had chosen to launch his campaign here. This was the quintessential American small town. The main street was lined with old-fashioned buildings, occupied by what appeared to be local businesses, with no national companies in sight. The sidewalks were dotted with trees bursting with new leaves. The scene looked straight out of a movie set.
If she hadn’t guessed it was going to be hard to find a room, the sight of the crowds on the sidewalks would have confirmed it. Seeing all the smiling faces, Audrey felt a pang of sadness. She could imagine how these people would react to learning the truth about Bridges. It wasn’t easy finding out the truth about someone you respected. Many of them wouldn’t want to hear it, which meant many of those smiling faces were potential enemies.
A wave of hopelessness rose within her. This seemed so impossible, but they simply had no other options.
As expected, the first two places they tried turned them away and suggested they wouldn’t be able to find a room in town unless they got a local to rent one in a private home.
The third B and B on the list was a cozy three-story house on the corner of a quiet street. A hand-carved sign hanging between twin posts on the front lawn identified it as Marybeth’s Inn. Audrey immediately reduced her hopes. A place this nice would surely have been booked up early on.
She and Jason still made their way to the front door. There was no one in sight when they stepped inside. Audrey moved to the small, unmanned reception desk and rang the bell on the counter. The simple chime echoed into the high ceiling and down the halls.
It took a few moments, but she finally heard footsteps approaching quickly in response to the bell. One set of feet padded down the staircase, and an attractive woman in her fifties appeared.
“Good morning,” she said with a broad smile. “May I help you?”
“I certainly hope so,” Jason said warmly, with a trace of weariness Audrey suspected he didn’t have to feign at this point. “We’re looking for a room for a few days and are really hoping you have one available.”
The woman’s smile instantly faded into a look of chagrin, just like the people at the first two places they’d stopped. “Oh, I’m sorry. We’re all booked up. I’m afraid you’ll find every place in town is, and likely the next town over, too.”
“That’s what we heard,” Audrey said on a sigh. “We didn’t realize that Richard Bridges is kicking off his presidential campaign here in a few days.”
“Yes, it’s all anyone can talk about around here. I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it.”
“We had no idea he was from here. Do you know him?”
The woman’s expression tightened. “No,” she said thinly. “I don’t.” Both her tone and her face said she didn’t want to, either. Evidently, they’d managed to find the one person in town who wasn’t a fan. Interesting. “If you didn’t know about that, may I ask what brings you to Barrett’s Mill?”
Knowing what was about to happen, Audrey braced herself, keeping her smile in place and trying not to tense.
Jason took her hand in his, clasping their fingers together tightly. It didn’t matter that they were both wearing gloves to make his look less conspicuous. She still felt a jolt in her chest at the contact, even if they weren’t skin to skin.
“We’re newlyweds,” Jason said. He glanced at Audrey and smiled. “On our honeymoon.”
Audrey made herself smile back and gaze into his eyes. They couldn’t present themselves as journalists. With so many reporters in town, someone might wonder why they were here and who they were working for, and the last thing they needed was anyone looking at Jason too closely. If they claimed to be Bridges supporters, there for his announcement, they also might draw attention from a reporter wanting to interview people so enthusiastic about Bridges they’d come all this way. But in the middle of a major story, no one would pay much attention to a couple of hapless newlyweds.
Audrey understood the reasons, knew perfectly well this wasn’t real. But as she looked into his eyes and smiled and felt his fingers wound through hers, what she felt inside her in response seemed entirely too real indeed.
She suddenly realized she had been standing there staring into Jason’s eyes for far too long. She didn’t have to fake the embarrassment that rose in her cheeks as she tore her gaze away, looking back at the woman with a self-conscious chuckle. “My great-aunt actually lived in Barrett’s Mill as a child and always talked about how beautiful it was, so when we decided to elope, I talked Ben into coming here for the honeymoon. It never occurred to us that we’d have trouble finding a place to stay.”
“What’s your great-aunt’s name? Maybe I remember her.”
“Martha Greer,” Audrey lied without missing a beat.
The woman seemed to consider the name before slowly shaking her head. “I’m afraid that doesn’t sound familiar.”
“I’m sure she must have been before your time,” Audrey said. “Anyway, I’m sorry that we bothered you. You have such a lovely place. Thank you for your time though.”
As she and Jason started to turn away, she held her breath, trying not to get her hopes up.
“Wait.”
Audrey’s hopes immediately shot up. When they turned back, the woman was gently biting her lip, apparently deep in thought. “I do have one room,” the woman said hesitantly, after a moment. “It’s in the basement though. It was my son’s when he was a teenager, and we made a space for him that was out of the way of the guests, so he could have some privacy. I normally wouldn’t think of renting it, but it does have its own bathroom, and if you give me an hour or so I’m sure I can get it fixed up real nice for you.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Jason said with a grin. “Somewhere with some privacy is just what we need. You’re a lifesaver. By the way, I’m Ben Randall and this is my wife, Lila.”
“Marybeth Kent,” she introduced herself. “Good to meet you. I’m glad to be able to help. Honeymooners shouldn’t have to worry about where they’ll be spending the night. They should be enjoying themselves.” She said the last with a sparkle in her blue eyes, before turning to move behind the front desk.
Taking in the woman’s friendly smile, Audrey felt a twinge of guilt at having deceived such a kind woman. She did her best to shake off the feeling. Marybeth was being paid for a room she otherwise wouldn’t be. If anything, they were doing her a favor.
Audrey couldn’t help but wonder why Marybeth hadn’t rented out the room. Even if it wasn’t one she normally would, with rooms in such high demand right now, she could have charged a premium for it. Yet she’d been willing to let it remain empty. Audrey suspected it wasn’t a coincidence that someone who didn’t appear to be a fan of Rich Bridges had let a room go unrented rather than offer it to another reporter or Bridges staffer.
She studied Marybeth’s smiling face anew, wondering if the woman really disliked Richard Bridges that much and why.
The questions chased away the last of her guilt.
They may have had to lie to get the room, but Audrey had a feeling she and Jason were exactly where they needed to be.
R
EVIEWING THE ARCHIVES
of the local newspaper had seemed like a good idea when Stone thought of it. If anything had happened involving Bridges the summer before he left for Europe, it may have made the local paper. It seemed like the best place for them to start, at any rate.