Various States of Undress (8 page)

“I may be all business, but that’s what I was hired to do. I wasn’t hired to seduce a daughter of the president of the United States.” He leaned against the stove and folded his arms, realizing too late that his gaze fixated on her hips was definitely
not
business-like, because she looked over her shoulder with a small smile.

“The more you try not to seduce me, the more you seem to be accomplishing just that.” She plunked a mug on the counter and reached for the coffee pot. “And as for First Daughters and Secret Service agents . . . well, that’s happened before. President Ford’s daughter—Susan—even married one of them. Did you know that?”

“That was decades ago. And they divorced.”

Carolina took a sip of coffee. “Well, she was only twenty when they got married.”

“You’re not convincing me,” Jake said. He forced a chuckle. “And you and I both know that we’re not going to end up in the Rose Garden in formalwear. That’s ridiculous.”

Carolina shot him a look and took her coffee to the living room. “I wasn’t suggesting it, so you can get over yourself any time now.” She set the mug on the coffee table and began folding up the sofa bed.

Jake watched her for a moment, strangely wistful as the bed disappeared and the cushions were replaced. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“You didn’t,” she said quickly. “I just don’t see why you’re being so . . . chicken.”

He frowned. “Chicken? I’m protecting you.”

“From what? From myself?” She pushed the coffee table back in place and plopped onto the sofa, folding her legs underneath her.

“If need be.”

“How courteous of you, but there’s no need. I’m good, thanks.” She picked up her mug and stared out the windows.

Jake sighed and walked into the living room, pulling his phone out of his jeans pocket. “Let me show you something.” Flicking it open, he tapped the web browser and sat beside her.

“What?” She scooted closer to him and leaned over his arm.

Glancing down at her smooth hair and the delicate curve of her shoulder, he cleared his throat. But he didn’t move away. Not even when she placed her hand on his arm to angle the phone closer.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Jake typed her name. “I’m googling you.”

She groaned. “Why?”

“To prove my point.”

“Which is?”

“That you and I have no business messing around. You don’t need the drama.” Glancing at her, he watched as the news results popped up on the screen. “See?”

“First daughter attacks fiancé,” she read. She was silent for a moment and then shrugged. “Well that’s just idiotic and doesn’t prove a thing. It’s from a gossip magazine.”

Jake scrolled down. “Carolina Fulton Shows Her Wild Side,” he read.

“Another gossip site.” She laughed, but the sound was forced. “What else?”

“President Fulton’s Peace Talks Sidelined by Daughter’s Problems.” Jake looked down at her frozen face and instantly felt bad. “Never mind. You don’t need to see—”

“Yes, I do.” She pulled the phone out of his hand and stared at it. “This is from
The New York Times
. Oh, no.”

Jake watched her carefully as she put a hand over her mouth and read silently. He shouldn’t have showed her that, but what else was he supposed to do to get it through her stubborn, lovely head? They
couldn’t
sleep together. It was impossible.

With a cough, he reached for the phone. “That’s enough. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted you to understand.”

She glanced at him. “I understand that you’re concerned about my reputation. So am I, but nothing you’ve said this morning convinces me that giving in to each other is a bad idea. Nobody will know.”

He stared at her for a few seconds. “God, you’re stubborn.”

She grinned. “I’m just stating the facts. I fight for what I want.”

“And you want me.” It wasn’t a question.

She slid closer and put her hands on his chest. “You want me too.” Her brown eyes were twinkling, but there was something about the set of her jaw and the hint of desperation around her mouth that made him draw back. She didn’t really want
him
. She wanted to be validated as a desirable woman. And he was the only man in her path. As much as he pushed away the thought, the realization stung his pride.

“I can’t have you,” he answered slowly. “And I’m sorry to say this, but I don’t make a habit of starting something with a woman on the rebound.”

Her smile froze in place. “Excuse me?”

“You’re trying to forget about Roger.”

“I barely remembered him when he and I were together,” she said. “And that’s the truth.” Her hands dropped away and she stood up. “But don’t worry about it, Jake. Making you uncomfortable is not my intention.” With a cool nod, she picked up her coffee mug and walked back into the kitchen.

“Carolina, I didn’t mean—”

“I think I’ll get my cameras out,” she interrupted. “Maybe take a few photos before the weather closes in and the light is lost.”

“Okay.” He rose and pocketed his phone. “I’ll get my coat.”

“No need. I’m out of practice, so I’ll just putter around inside.” She raised her chin. “You hate the cold, and like I said, I don’t intend to make you uncomfortable.”

Turning on her heel, she walked past the pantry and went into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Jake let out a long breath. It didn’t matter what she intended. He was more than uncomfortable. His heart raced, his body ached to be with her and his thoughts. Jumbled like balls in a lottery machine and everyone knew when the numbers were chosen, almost nobody came up a winner. It was pointless to try and make sense of anything; now the only thing he could do was his job.

W
HEN
C
AROLINA CLOSED
the bedroom door, it was with tingling fingers. Her whole body tingled, but it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. It was a foreign feeling, but vaguely familiar at the same time because the last time she’d so thoroughly embarrassed herself like that had been ten years ago.

She’d been fifteen and posing for a staged photo with her family in the formal parlor of the governor’s mansion in Cheyenne. Even then she’d had this thing for men who projected intelligence, competence, and self-reliance. She admired them. Imagined herself with them. At fifteen, that didn’t mean a whole lot more than fantasizing about having them escort her to the prom, but she had still ached with every teenage hormone in her body to be swept off her feet by a self-assured man.

At that time, her sights were focused on too-handsome-for-his-own-good Tom, who worked as her mom’s administrative assistant. He was cocky, great at running the busy schedule of a governor’s wife and made sure everyone knew it. Since Marie’s office was at the mansion, he was there every day and always took a moment to kiss ass by joking around with the governor’s kids. But she hadn’t been a kid. Not that Tom had realized that, because he’d treated her as one. She’d been stick-thin back then and wore a 32-A bra. Pathetic in her skewed teenage estimation.

So the day of the formal family portrait, she’d taken a look in the mirror at her taffeta party dress, which hung from her shoulders like a sack, and marched into the bathroom for handfuls of tissues. She’d ruthlessly shoved them into her bra until some form took shape on her chest. Then she’d marched right down the grand staircase and into the parlor, not looking anywhere but straight at Tom, who sat in a side chair scribbling notes for the photographer.

When he’d looked up, his eyes had zeroed in on her chest, gone round with surprise, and then—horribly—he’d started laughing. Oh, he’d tried to cover it by coughing, but she knew. Knew instantly and deep down, that he found her ridiculous.

So without hesitating, she’d whipped out a tissue and handed it to him, calmly telling him that her dress didn’t have pockets and she had a cold, just like he
obviously
had too.

And then, supplying her own fit of coughing, she’d dashed into the bathroom to remove the rest of the tissues and cry her eyes out into them. That incident should have taught her to stay away from arrogant men. It hadn’t. Roger had turned out to be arrogant, and he had been a big mistake. And Jake was . . .

She sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. The windowpanes across the small room rattled with a gust of wind, and snowflakes sprayed against the glass. She’d give anything right now to dart out of the room, through the back door and take a walk in the gathering storm, but it wasn’t a possibility. Jake would never allow it, because he was . . .

Groaning, she flopped on her back. He was her protector. He wasn’t going to sweep her off her feet. No man would. It didn’t work that way, even when she threw herself out there like a chunk of meat.

Oh, God. What had she been thinking? If Jake was the gossipy type—which he wasn’t—she’d be viewed by the entire inner circle of the Secret Service as a walking disaster about now. But he was decent. Discreet. Unlike Tom. Or Roger, or any of the assortment of men she’d bothered with in the past, assortment being the operative word. There hadn’t been many, but they’d been like similar pieces in a box of chocolate; the kind that looked good on the outside, but needed to be squished on the bottom to see if the filling looked disgusting. It had. With every last one of them.

Those men had felt the need to constantly validate their worth. And Jake? Jake didn’t have to do that. He was . . .

Amazing.

She let her eyelids slide closed, fighting against the wave of longing that swept over her. She should leave him the hell alone. But she didn’t want to. Because if she really was on the rebound—if she really did feel the need to validate her
own
worth—she would completely understand where he was coming from. But the fact was, she didn’t feel that way at all. What she felt for Jake, as mixed-up and euphoric as it was, didn’t have a damn thing to do with Roger. Why couldn’t Jake see that? He was smart. Intuitive.

Her phone rang and she let out an irritated sigh, reaching for it on the nightstand. She answered it a split second before she bothered to check the caller ID. Damn!

“Hey babe.”
Ugh.
Carolina drew her mouth down at the sound of Roger’s oily voice.

“What do you want?”

“You didn’t answer my texts,” he said. “Anything wrong?”

What? Had he just asked that?

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said sweetly.

“Oh, good.” He let out a sigh. “I was beginning to wonder if you were going to take me back.”

She laughed. And laughed some more. “Really? You don’t need to wonder. I’m not taking you back, and this is the last time I’m going to tell you that. Understand?”

Roger was silent.

“I think it’s safe to assume that you do. Just in case, I’m blocking your number. Goodbye, Roger.” She hung up and with shaking fingers, typed in a special security code on her phone and then took Roger off the approved list. He was gone. Deleted from her life.

Now there was Jake.

He’d hinted that she was on the rebound, but the bottom line was that whatever existed between them came down to intuition, and she’d bet her expensive nails that Jake knew quite well that Roger wasn’t the issue. So if he wanted to
pretend
that Roger factored in, she wasn’t going to stop him. She was just going to let it ride, and try not to get so worked up about one kiss. Because that’s all it was, wasn’t it? But the idea of that kiss never happening again made her almost whimper aloud. Her body still tingled and her hands were clenched into fists.

This was absurd; she was acting like her teenage self. The only thing she was lacking was a secret picture of Jake in her jewelry box that she could take out every night and sigh over. It was time to put things into perspective and what she needed was a shower to relax her tense muscles and to calm her nerves. When she’d calmed down she’d be able to think clearly. Plus, it was as cold as a snowman’s ass in here. She loved sleeping in the cold, but perhaps she’d turned the thermostat down a bit too much last night.

Shivering, she slid off the bed and unzipped her suitcase searching for her bathrobe. She got undressed quickly, wrapped the robe tight and walked back into the kitchen, pausing only to take a swig from the lukewarm mug of coffee sitting on the counter. As she passed through the living room, Jake’s deep voice resonated in the air.

“Where are you going?”

“Thought I’d take a dip in the lake while it’s still warm out.” She brushed past the sofa and started up the stairs.

He chuckled. “Good one.”

His voice was pleasant, placating even. Which only made it worse. Him trying to make her feel better about the fact that he’d rejected her? Ugh. She quickened her steps and when she reached the second floor, there were tears in her eyes.

“What’s wrong with you? Stop it,” she hissed at herself.

“You okay?” Jake called.

“Of course,” she answered. “I’ll be out in a bit.”

She closed the bathroom door behind her and went straight to the shower, turning it on full blast. Then she sighed, remembering the generator. She turned the water lower and as she stood under the spray, she took deep breaths. A distraction was in order, and what had she actually come to Wyoming to do, anyway? Relax. Reacquaint herself with photography. Reconnect with Regina. And that’s exactly what she planned to do. Jake wasn’t on the agenda and he was right—not pursuing anything with him was for the best.

Nodding, she stepped out of the shower and dried off. When she walked back down the stairs, she felt a lot calmer. She felt almost centered—until she saw him standing by the windows, staring out into the increasing grayness. She paused on the steps, staring at his mile-wide back. His hands were on his hips and his shoulders were tense with purpose. The sight of his close-cropped hair and strong neck made her mouth go dry. Even his ears were sexy.

She cleared her throat. “I left some hot water for you.”

“Thanks.” He didn’t turn around. “This storm looks worse than yesterday’s.”

“It does.” She walked down the rest of the stairs and into the kitchen, her gaze never leaving him. “But there’s nothing we can do about that.”