False Security (27 page)

The sound of champagne corks
popping interrupted Vera’s speech. Rachel jumped in her seat and turned to see
several waiters moving throughout the tables, filling champagne glasses.
Donovan placed his hand on her thigh and whispered, “Cal likes to put on a
show.”

Rachel chuckled and whispered
back, “It’s a good thing, otherwise we’d be hearing how Miss Kimberly won her
first grade spelling bee with the word ubiquitous.”

Donovan suppressed his laugh.
“Be nice, Rach.”

Mischief glinted in her eyes and
she smiled. “I could say the same thing to you.”

He bowed his head in compliance,
and a soft laugh escaped Rachel’s lips.

She was glad to see Donovan keep
his promise, and they made it through dinner without another altercation
between the two men. Rachel imitated every move Donovan made as they dined.
Rachel savored every bite of the multi-course meal, which consisted of seared
scallops, arugula salad, a medium-rare filet of Kobe beef, and a beautiful flan
in a decadent caramel sauce.

Content to listen to the others
around her, Rachel contributed to the conversation only when necessary. Vera’s
attempts to pawn her daughter off on Jonathan amused Rachel. Kimberly’s face
remained flushed during dinner, revealing a slight crush on Jonathan along with
discomfort at her mother’s domineering manner.

Donovan and Stanley kept busy
discussing business and politics, and their conversation focused on their
gracious host’s bid for the Oval Office. Having been shielded from the world
for so many years, Rachel did not understand most of their discussion. She
decided that even if she had lived a normal life in the outside world, she
would still have little interest in political matters.

Though amazed at the
conversation around her, she was even more in awe of Donovan. Though she always
knew Donovan was an important man, the conversation between Stanley and Donovan
demonstrated just how important. Rachel realized she was lucky that he chose
her to be by his side, and her love for him grew in the short time they had
been at the dinner.

Waiters came to clear the
tables, and the music that accompanied dinner peaked in volume. Couples rose
and moved to the center of the room to dance. Rachel watched them glide across
the floor, and her mouth turned upward. Violins and champagne worked together
to form a blissful haze in Rachel’s mind, and she understood the true meaning
of the word romance. It danced in her eyes, keeping time with the graceful
figures sweeping across the room. Rachel didn’t want the evening to end.

“You know, Jonathan,” Vera said,
“my Kimberly is an excellent dancer.”

Kimberly rolled her eyes.

“I’m sure she is,” Jonathan
said, and he pushed his chair back. He walked around the table and stood beside
Rachel. He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “You don’t mind, do you,
King?” Not waiting for a reply, he led her toward the other dancing couples.

Horrified, Rachel asked, “What
are you doing?”

“I’m going to dance with an
angel.”

“And I don’t get a say in this?”

He wrapped his arm around her
waist and planted his hand in the middle of her back. “Maybe later.”

Rachel stood still. “I...I’m not
sure I know how to dance.”

“It’s easy.” He took her hand
and placed it on his shoulder. “Follow me, and you’ll be fine,” he said. He
grasped her other hand in his and drew her near his body.

Claustrophobia overcame Rachel.
“You’re much too close,” she said.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,”
Jonathan said. He pulled her closer. “Is that better?”

His body pressed against hers
and her breath caught in her throat. Her feet surprised her by keeping up with
his every move, and she tried to preserve her composure. “You are the most
arrogant bastard I’ve ever met,” she said under her breath.

“I would have thought that
privilege belonged to King.” He glanced over her shoulder, in the direction of
their table. “He doesn’t look too happy at the moment.”

“I don’t blame him. I’m not,
either.”

“That’s too bad. You should
learn to relax and enjoy yourself more.” He continued before she could speak.
“What do you do for a living?”

She answered his question with
reluctance. “I work for Donovan.”

“I was under the impression that
you weren’t a prostitute.”

Rachel glared at him. “I’m
security at his estate.”

“Are you here for business or
pleasure?”

“Until a few moments ago,
pleasure.”

“You really don’t like dancing
with me?”

She hesitated, not wanting to
admit that a part of her did enjoy dancing with him.

“Nothing smart to say? I take it
you find me irresistible.” He slid his hand down to the small of her back.

“If your hand goes any lower,
you’ll learn just how resistible I find you.”

Jonathan slowed his movements.
“I’m not a bastard, like you think. If you want, I’ll be happy to escort you
back to King right now. I’ll even apologize to him for my rude behavior. I’m
sure he will gloat about that for years, but I’m willing to make that sacrifice
for you.”

His green eyes fixed on hers and
she thought they were probably the most incredible eyes she had ever seen, more
hypnotizing than even Donovan’s eyes. Something about him was much different
than Donovan, and that intrigued her. The way he held her was in stark contrast
to Donovan. She had never experienced such gentle arms. “Maybe in a little
bit,” she said.

He smiled and they danced in
silence. She followed his graceful steps over the floor and she floated on air,
comfortable in his arms, his body natural against hers. It really was a fairy
tale.

Every fairy tale has a Prince Charming.

The thought brought her back to
reality. She grew uneasy at her unexpected attraction to him, and became aware
of Donovan’s watchful eye. “I think I should go back now,” she said, though she
wished he would refuse and keep her longer.

Despite her mental urging, he
stopped. “Thank you for dancing with me, Angel. Maybe we can do it again very
soon.” His lips found her cheek, and lingered for a moment on her skin.

When they reached the table,
Donovan stood up and took her hand from Jonathan. “Thank you for letting me
borrow her,” Jonathan said. “I apologize if I’ve insulted you in any way.” He
walked over to Kimberly and held out his arm. “I would be honored if you would
dance with me.”

Kimberly blushed and took his
arm.

“You’ll have to excuse us,”
Donovan said to Stanley. “It’s getting late and we have quite a drive ahead of
us.”

“Of course,” Stanley said.

“It was very nice to meet you
both,” Rachel said.

“Likewise, my dear,” Stanley
said. Vera flashed a spurious smile.

Rachel risked a glimpse in
Jonathan’s direction. He held Kimberly at a distance, and over her shoulder,
his eyes reached out to Rachel. She drew a sharp breath and then clamped her
mouth shut. Donovan led her out of the room with a tight grasp on her hand.

Rachel Pettis
trailed behind Donovan King until they disappeared up the steps and out the
door. Jonathan’s eyes roamed to his left, where Cal Robbins twirled his wife.
Cal met his eyes and gave him a slight nod as if to say, “I saw what you did.”

Jonathan nodded back.
All
right, you caught me.
He chuckled softly at their silent exchange. He and
Cal had been friends for so long that Jonathan couldn’t hide any of his motives
from him. Of course, Cal was also friends with King, and that put Cal in the
precarious position of having to play diplomat between the two men at social
events.

It was widely known that Cal’s
friendship with King was more political than amicable, but they were friends
nonetheless. King had been one of the driving forces behind Cal’s campaign for
his Senate seat. With the help of Graham Wilkes, King practically got Cal
elected and kept him in that position.

Jonathan shuddered at the
thought of Graham Wilkes. Though he appeared to surround himself with
respectable businessmen as associates, Wilkes was nothing more than a glorified
drug dealer. If it hadn’t been for keen business sense and sharp criminal
instinct, Wilkes would have been dealing from a street corner by a school in
between jail stints. And Wilkes and King were as close as brothers.

There were rumors about King,
about his nose being not so clean. About his business dealings not always being
legitimate. The rumors, however, were unfounded. Nothing more than supermarket
tabloid headlines coming from the mouths of prominent and allegedly upstanding
men and women. Over the years, King proved predictable and almost boring,
making Jonathan think that maybe he remained impervious under Wilkes’s
influence.

But tonight, King threw Jonathan
for a loop. A woman. How interesting. Even more interesting was Jonathan’s
reaction to her. He saw her from across the room the moment she stepped foot
through the door. Her smile captured his heart before he noticed she was on the
arm of Donovan King.

As King introduced her, Jonathan
got his first glimpse into those angel eyes and he never wanted to look away.
Then she responded to his gibe at King and surprised Jonathan with her sharp
tongue. Throughout dinner, her gestures and her conversation proved her to be
graceful, elegant, and natural. Much different from other women thrown at him
by overbearing mothers like Vera Meade.

Jonathan grimaced, having almost
forgotten the woman he danced with now. He smiled at Kimberly and reinforced
through his rigid arms that he had no intention of letting her body get close
to touching his. He wanted to keep the residual feeling of Rachel pressed into
him for the rest of the evening. The warm scent of her skin clung to his lips,
and he wondered who could blame him for wanting to share a dance with such an
intriguing and beautiful woman.

King did, Jonathan thought. Damn
King. He had stolen Rachel out of Jonathan’s arms. Well, after Jonathan stole
her first, that is, but it didn’t matter. He would find a way to make it clear
to King that he had unexpected competition. After all, Jonathan always got what
he wanted.

It was the only trait he shared
with Donovan King.

The entire ride
back to the estate, Rachel kept her eyes lowered to the floor. Her fingers
twisted and turned, turned and twisted. When they first climbed into the
limousine, she attempted conversation, but Donovan did not respond so she gave
up. She had nothing left to do but wring her fingers, and the silence consumed
her thoughts.

The limousine hit a slight bump in
the road before driving through the front gate of the estate. Donovan’s
cellphone rang once. He didn’t move to answer it. Twice. He did not shift his
penetrating stare away from her face. Three times. Why wouldn’t he answer his
phone? Four rings. She willed him to speak, cough, anything to break the
silence between the ringing of his phone. Rachel’s fingers twisted and turned
faster.

He was upset, there was no
avoiding that fact. Nothing she could say now would change his mood. The
silence between them during the long drive only fueled her fear. She had never
been more afraid of him than she was now, even though she had done nothing
wrong to upset him.

That wasn’t entirely true, she
told herself. At the beginning of the fateful dance she may have been at the
mercy of Jonathan Thomas, but after he offered to take her back to the table,
she chose to continue dancing with him. Something about him fascinated Rachel.
Even during dinner she stole a number of glances his way. While they ate, she
convinced herself she looked at him to take part in the conversation, but she
knew that wasn’t the only reason.

Then came the dance and the way
his body felt against hers. He held her in a gentle, comforting manner that was
difficult to ignore. In the moment when his lips touched her cheek, something
happened inside of her. She loved Donovan, she had told him so before the dinner,
but that emotion was threatened by this unexpected outside force named Jonathan
Thomas.

Rachel cringed inside. She had
done so much wrong, to the point that it felt as if she had betrayed Donovan,
the man she told she would always love. She still loved him now, but after
being in the warm, kind presence of Jonathan, she wondered if there was
something wrong with the way Donovan loved her.

The driver helped her out of the
limo again, but unlike at the home of Senator Cal Robbins, she did not wait for
Donovan to get out before she moved up the stairs and through the front door.
Once inside, she rushed down the back stairwell and into her room. She hoped he
would retire to his own room and not say anything about Jonathan.

But Donovan continued to follow her.
The closer he got, the more his palpable anger smothered her. Rachel walked to
the other side of her bedroom, and Donovan shut and locked the door behind
them. She removed the scarf from her neck, and dropped it to the ground when he
came up behind her and latched his hands onto her shoulders.

Donovan shoved her, and the side
of her face crashed into the wall. His body pressed into her back, not allowing
her any room to breathe. He took her hands and slid them along the wall until
they were above her head. He forcefully ran his hands down her arms. “Is this
what you want?”

Her fingers curled into the
wall, and her hands fell next to her head. She twisted her head to the side,
but couldn’t see his face. A high pitched zip jerked tears from her eyes. The flaps
of her dress rolled open and cool air breathed on her exposed back. He tugged
her dress down and it bunched around her ankles. He ordered her to step out of
the dress, and he kicked it aside with his shoe.

His uncontrolled emotions seeped
through rough hands that groped her body, touching her in ways that excluded
love. He pushed her harder against the wall until she thought her ribs might
snap.

The clasp on the back of her bra
unhooked, and Rachel’s stomach dropped. “No, Donovan,” she said. “Please don’t.”

He moved back to give her a bit
of room between her body and the wall. “Is this the way you want it? So you can
pretend he’s the one you’re with?”

“Don’t do this, Donovan. Please
don’t do this. I don’t want him.”

He grasped her arm and whirled
her around, his fingers so tight it was as if they pierced her skin and cut off
the circulation. Her hand reached up and held her bra in place, so she wouldn’t
be even more exposed. His nostrils flared and anger radiated from his narrowed
eyes.

Her trembling hand touched his
face. “I don’t want him,” she repeated. She inched closer to him. “I only want
to be with you. You know that I love you.”

At her words, Donovan released
her. His rage-filled expression relented to despair, as if someone else had
taken over his body and forced him to hurt her. For a moment, she thought he
would cry.

Donovan bowed his head. “I don’t
know what’s wrong with me. I never want to do those things to you. It just
happens. I’m trying, Rachel, I really am. I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t lose me,” Rachel
said. She wrapped her arms around him. “I’m yours, Donovan. That won’t ever
change.” For the first time, as the words left her mouth, her cheek stinging
with every syllable, she wasn’t sure she meant what she said.

“You are mine,” Donovan
whispered. “You’ll always be mine, Rachel.” His desperate kiss told her what he
wanted from her, and Rachel always gave into his desires, no matter how bad the
pain. She never dreamed of denying him, and tonight was no different, despite
what he had done.

In the early morning hours,
after his lengthy apologies, his seeming disgust with his actions, and his
promises of change, Donovan left her bedroom to retire to his own room for a
few hours of sleep. Rachel turned on her side and drew her knees up. With the
comforter snug around her tattered body, she touched her cheekbone where it hit
the wall. The tenderness assured her a bruise would appear later.

All she wanted was to love him.
He made it so difficult.