Gubernatorial candidate Olivia Russo is set to unveil her plan to get Florida out of the red without need for more federal assistance at tonight’s fundraising gala. President Hadley is set to attend in support of Russo. There’s been speculation that Russo will steer away from party lines in regard to the Everglades Preservation Project. Amidst declining water conditions due to toxic blue-green algae, Russo is said to support what some consider an “excessive” apportionment to the EPP.

“I’ve had a better time watching paint dry,” Joey whispered into the small microphone while standing in a corner of a huge ballroom in a black suit and crisp white shirt. It was the evening after he’d met Olivia and he still couldn’t get her out of his mind. He couldn’t wait to see her reaction when she saw him at the event. Would she be happy to see him? Would she be upset he hadn’t told her that he was working at the event tonight?

He was still thinking of all things Olivia when Jax spoke into the earpiece. “Says the man who gets a hard-on working on algorithms alone in his office.” Anyone who looked at them wouldn’t know they were talking. They’d been trained to blend into the background, watch, and take mental notes of everyone and everything, but also to exude a certain presence of authority and intimidation, as contradictory as that sounded.

“Numbers are sexy, man. Ask any woman, brother.” Joey’s eyes scanned the entirety of the room as he spoke.

“Anyway, you’re not supposed to be having fun. You’re supposed to be watching and making sure all these people are safe,” Jax said. He continued speaking, this time addressing the rest of their staff. “ICS? How’s everything looking?”

They were “all hands on deck” at the event. A cacophony of “all good” “all clear” came in through the earpiece. Normally, Joey did all the computer-related jobs that came into Iron-Clad Security. They did everything from bodyguard jobs to cybersecurity to covert under-the-radar reconnaissance missions. Most of the time, Joey planned the missions and worked on the computer cases. It wasn’t that he wasn’t muscular and fit , it was that most people just weren’t as muscular and as fit as Jax. It was like comparing Iron Man to the Hulk. Both were capable, but one could cause more damage with just his fist than the other. But just the same, Joey could be lethal. He had been in the Marines and had retired as a major. He was trained and skilled like the rest of the crew and this particular job required everyone on board.

Tonight the president of the United States would be at the campaign event, and ICS had been subcontracted to work alongside the Secret Service. Olivia would be one of the main speakers, and Joey couldn’t wait to see her. Not just to see her, but to listen to her speech, the one she’d been so worried about. Seeing her in her element would be interesting.

He’d never been this excited to take on a job in his life.

He knew she had arrived at the event because he’d heard her name being mentioned by one of the Secret Service guys who was going over the roster of attendees, but he hadn’t seen her yet.

The president had just finished his speech and was shaking hands with some local political figures when movement from the far end of the room caught Joey’s attention. There, looking regal in a long sapphire dress, her dark brown hair up in some sort of fancy hairdo, stood Olivia.

She’d looked fan-fucking-tastic in sweat pants and a messy bun. But she looked absolutely breathtaking in a gown.

He’d seen her on television dozens of times. When they were prepping for this event he’d seen her photographs. Even in pictures the woman was stunning. But nothing—nothing!—compared to seeing her in person, all dressed up.

She was a beacon in the room full of dull politicians. He watched her smile at Arnold Lennar, a very wealthy and well known party contributor. And the way he was looking at her—it didn’t seem as if he gave one single fuck whether she was for gun rights or wanted to hold hands and sing kumbaya to resolve violence. Hell, the woman could decide she thought cotton candy could solve world peace and Lennar would pull out his wallet and hand her all the money inside of it while marching alongside her.

The only thing that assuaged Joey’s rising jealousy, a jealousy he was not accustomed to feeling, was the way she smiled at Lennar. It was nothing like the way she’d smiled at Joey last night. Tonight, her beautiful green eyes didn’t sparkle. Obviously, she was playing a role, one he’d seen her play on television before. It was one that, perhaps, made her constituents love her and the donors open their checkbooks, but now that he’d met her in person, he knew it was not a genuine smile. Last night, her smile had been real, sincere, bright, soft and warm. This was . . . nice, but robotic. And the fact that she wasn’t giving Lennar the light she’d given him last night made Joey feel ten feet tall and gave him a glimmer of hope that maybe he hadn’t been the only one who’d felt a connection.

“Protestors outside are getting out of control,” Jax said into his earpiece. “Feds are keeping them out, but keep an eye on the east doors. I’m getting concerned.”

Joey moved his view from Olivia to the door. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, although it was hard to say with the crowd being as large as it was. However, Jax had a notorious sixth sense and when he got a “bad feeling” it was usually spot-on. He moved closer to the east entrance, which brought him closer to Olivia. If something went down, he wanted to make sure she was covered.

The lights flickered, an indication that the five thousand dollar a plate meal was about to be served. It was a relief because it would be easier to monitor the room when everyone was sitting rather than loitering around. Joey glanced at Olivia, who glided across the room with a handful of people speaking to her, but none of them seemed to be a date of any kind. In fact, he’d noted when he’d looked her up that there had not been one photo of her with any man since Neil. She always went to these events alone or with Mark Roe, her campaign advisor, or at times with here good friend Winnie Peterson.

Tonight, she’d walked in with Mark. Since meeting her yesterday, Joey had done an unhealthy and slightly creepy amount of research on her. He had learned that Mark wasn’t only her advisor, he was also a friend of Neil, and someone who seemed to really care about her and her daughter.

He watched her put her little purse on the table and sit down with a warm smile, Mark to her right and a woman he knew to be a state rep named Wanda on her left.

He wanted to approach her. Say something. But he was working, and really, now that he’d seen her in her element—with her people, wearing her “clothes,” in command of a room full of politicians—what would he say to her? Last night she’d been cute and vulnerable and he’d really liked her. Today, watching her from across the room, he felt unsure. Not unsure as to whether he liked her, unsure as to whether she would like him. She was so smart, so beautiful, so sophisticated . . .

Maybe it was the way she’d been dressed or that she’d been a wreck over her broken computer, but last night it had been easy to talk to her. Today, he had to admit that she looked intimidating as she controlled the room with her presence. He’d never felt self-conscious before.

He continued surveilling the room as the salad was served and another dull politician took the stage to speak. She was set last on the itinerary, during dessert.

Olivia was looking up at the speaker instead of eating, and he thought he saw her stifle a yawn, which made him chuckle.

Unable to resist, he pulled out his phone and sent her a text. Thought you’d be wolfing that salad by now. Green, leafy, came from dirt . . . He pressed send and looked at her.

A moment later she inconspicuously pulled out her phone from her tiny purse. A smile spread across her face and she looked around. Mark whispered something to her and she shook her head and looked back up at the speaker but kept her phone on her lap.

Who’s this? she answered when no one seemed to be looking.

You know who this is.

Are you here? Should I be worried you’re a stalker?

He smiled. Working. East corner, by the exceptionally pretentious ice sculpture.

Carefully she looked at her phone but didn’t look back right away. His heart beat as he waited what felt like an eternity. Finally, she fumbled with her hair as she stole a glance over her shoulder. Eventually her eyes found him and a slow genuine smile lit her face.

The smile.

Fucking brilliant.

Then she looked down and typed. You should know that a lady such as myself would never wolf anything.

Again, Mark leaned over and said something in her ear and she sat up a little straighter and put the phone back into her purse.

She was working.

And so was he.

He needed to remember he was there to do a job. An important job. Not to flirt and text like an idiot. He slid his phone back into his tuxedo pocket.

“Shit’s getting ugly outside,” Jax said into the earpiece. “Feds are gonna get the president out. Party’s over, boys.”

Damn it.

He looked back to where Olivia sat. If shit got bad, it would be hard to get her out with five hundred people running around frantically. He wasn’t supposed to be tailing her specifically, but she was one of the most important and vulnerable people in the room, along with a few other high level politicians.

She got up and moved toward the restrooms. His eyes followed her out of the room, and right before she disappeared into the hall, she glanced back and their eyes met.

Fuck.

His feet moved of their own accord. “Cover me, Ben,” he said into his microphone as he casually walked back to the hall, which was mostly empty. “I’m going to get Russo out of here.”

“Russo?” Jax said. “The one running for governor? She has her own guard.”

He knew that too. Along with the feds and ICS, some of the politicians had their own bodyguards. But fuck that. Her bodyguard was shit if he wasn’t following her out to the bathroom. He should have eyes on her twenty-four seven.

Just as she was about to open the door to the restroom he caught up to her and grabbed her wrist, causing her to turn around.

“Hi,” she said, sounding breathless.

She didn’t look surprised he’d stopped her, in fact she looked happy. Very happy, actually. He blurted out, “You are so fucking beautiful.”

Her fair skin pinked and her smile widened for him, her bangs falling on her eyes.

She playfully slapped his shoulder. “Compared to the crazy woman you met yesterday . . .”

“No. Compared to every other woman in the room. Hell, compared to every other woman period.”

She opened her mouth to say something but he cut her off. “We need to go.”

Her smile immediately faded, her eyes wide and her brows furrowed. “Go? Where?”

“There’s a mob outside. A very pissed-off group. At least seventy-five, some wearing Kevlar, which makes me think they’re armed. They’re rowdy, throwing things, tipping over garbage cans. It’s getting hard to keep them out.”

“Really?” she asked, looking around as if that would answer all the questions she had.

“Yes, really. Come on, there’s a service elevator this way.” He took her hand and pulled her down the hall.

“Wait. My speech. I’ll be on soon. And Mark? He’ll be worried.”

“Speeches are canceled, darlin’. And you can call Mark as soon as you’re out of harm’s way.”

He pressed the button for the elevator. She followed him inside once it opened, then he pressed the button for the garage. “Where’s your bodyguard?” he asked.

“Tom went out for a smoke.”

Joey shook his head.

“I told him it was all right. There’s so much security here tonight. I didn’t think there’d be a problem.”

“At a political fundraiser with the president as a guest?”

“Exactly!” she said, exasperatedly. “The president’s here, and there’s a lot of security. He’s a smoker. I didn’t think it would be a big deal.” She was chewing her nail now.

Jax came in through the earpiece. “Joey, where are you? Need you out on the east door, stat.”

“Shit,” he groaned, tapping his earpiece just as the elevator jolted to a stop.

* * *

Butterflies were fluttering violently in Olivia’s belly.

When Joey’d texted her and then she’d turned around and seen him, the stupid grin on her face must have been obvious from across the room.

He was a breath of fresh air in a room full of bullshit and hypocrisy. And then when his hand had landed on her wrist as she was about to walk into the restroom, goose bumps had erupted all over her body. She had hoped he’d follow her to the bathroom, away from all the prying eyes. And he hadn’t disappointed.

And when he had stood close to her and told her, with such intensity, that she looked beautiful, she had almost pulled him into the bathroom, locked the door behind them, and screwed him senseless. Or at least that’s what she had momentarily fantasized about doing.

Funnily enough, tonight she’d been complemented a handful of times by very attractive and powerful men, but they had all sounded disingenuous. When Joey had said it, though . . . God, it had felt passionate and real and she felt it right to the pit of her soul.

And then it felt as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown on her head in the form of orders being barked into Joey’s ear piece. Lust was replaced by fear as she followed him into an elevator.

And now she was stumbling forward as the elevator came to a sudden halt, strong hands catching her before she hit the back wall.

“There’s trouble outside.” His mouth was close to her ear when he spoke.

“Oh God, are we stuck?” her heart rate picked up. “I—I, uh . . . I’m claustrophobic.”

The lights flickered.

“I’m with Russo in the service elevators. Stuck between third and fourth floor. Table two, go find Mark Roe and inform him of the situation.” He spoke into his right shoulder, where there must’ve been a mic somewhere.

“Joey. I need to get off.”

Her phone began to ring a moment later, and with shaking hands she pulled it out of her purse. “Mark? I’m in an elevator. Oh God, Mark, it’s stuck . . . yeah . . . um . . . Joey . . . Right. Okay. Okay. ” She swiped it closed. “Mark says that they canceled the event and someone named Jax and a federal agent confirmed our whereabouts. Mark says I’m safe with you.”

“He’s my partner. You saw him briefly last night. Did you not think I was safe?”

“I don’t know!” she yelled, looking around the small room as if there were some way of getting out of there. “Yes. No. I just met you yesterday!”

She wasn’t really listening. She grabbed his lapel in a panic. He pulled her close instead of pushing her off of him. With the hysterical way she was acting, it would have been justifiable for him to keep his distance, considering that she was right: they barely knew each other. But he ran his palm up and down her back soothingly.

“Just a few minutes and they’ll get us out. Take a deep breath for me, darlin’. Are you afraid of me or the elevator?”

“The elevator. I can’t breathe.”

“Yes you can,” he said soothingly.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, then exhaled, over and over. “Our date will not involve elevators,” he whispered into her ear once she started feeling a little less frazzled.

“At least the lights are still on,” she whispered back. Why were they whispering? And why were they so close together? She should have stepped back now that she had her wits about her.

“You feeling a little better?”

She took another deep breath. “Yes. Thank you.” But still she didn’t step away, and neither did he. “You smell nice,” she whispered against his neck. She wanted to pull down his white crisp tuxedo shirt and lick his neck—an urge she’d never ever had before.

“You smell better. And fuck, you look good. I know I said that already but it’s worth repeating. You sure you’re feeling better? It’s going to be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.” His voice came out hoarse and sexy as hell.

“I know. I don’t know why I know that, but I do.” Her fingers slipped under the collar of his tuxedo shirt and his skin felt so good against her fingers. Maybe it was the two flutes of champagne or maybe it was the fear making her delirious, or maybe it was the fact she hadn’t had sex in a long time . . . but she wanted this man so badly. They were pressed close together and she was about ninety-nine percent sure it had nothing to do with being in the confined space.

“I’m picking you up tomorrow at seven,” he said into her ear, his nose softly caressing her skin. “God, Livie,” he growled, “I know this isn’t the appropriate time and this may scare you off, but, fuck . . . fuck.” He growled again. “I’m so goddamn hard, right now. I want you so motherfucking much.”

And she knew exactly how he felt. And appropriate or not . . . the feeling was mutual. “I know what you mean,” she said, running her nails along his neck.

Suddenly, the elevator began to move again, but then it jolted to a stop, causing them to stumble. Luckily, he was holding her as his back hit the wall. “Is your heart beating like that because you’re scared?”

She looked up and there was no doubt in her mind that he could see the lust in her eyes as she moved her head up and down and licked her bottom lip. “Yes. But not because of the elevator.”

“Why, then?” He moved his nose up and down her cheekbone and then to her neck, which she blatantly gave him access to by lifting her head up. “Why are you scared?”

“Because now I am suddenly scared that this elevator will open and you won’t have the chance to kiss me.” She’d never, not ever, been that bold, but there was an air of lust and sex in that small enclosure that was making her heady.

And his lips crashed down on hers, his cock pressed against her as he pulled her firmly against him with one hand and ran his fingers into her hair with the other, directing her head to where he wanted it. She’d known last night that this man would dominate her, take control, and force her to stop thinking and succumb to her desires. And she had not been wrong.

She moaned into his mouth and he grunted, a noise she’d never heard before. It was passion and lust and suddenly she wanted to rip her dress and give him full access to her. He trailed his palm down her neck and roughly pulled her chiffon top down, causing one of her breasts to fall out. “You’re not the kind of woman you fuck in an elevator, but Jesus, I want to fuck you,” he admitted. She wished he would. “I at least have to taste you.” He roughly cupped her ass as he moved down and sucked her nipple into his mouth.

Oh. My. God.

Her head fell back against the elevator wall. He wasn’t soft or delicate. He was biting and sucking like he couldn’t get enough. The elevator filled with crude slurping noises from him and mewling noises from her. She wanted to stop him. She wanted to feel ashamed—because what the hell was she doing in a service elevator with a virtual stranger? But none of that happened. She felt good and wanton and . . .

“Oh God . . .”

Between nips and licks, he said, in a raspy, almost unrecognizable voice, “I need to be inside of you.”

“Yes,” she hissed, and he pinched her nipple, sending a ripple of pleasure down her. Then the lights flickered again and the elevator began to move. “Fuck!” he growled as he let her go and rubbed his hand down his face in frustration. “Fuck!” She ran her hand down her gown, deftly lifted its top, and he adjusted himself.

“I don’t think I can fix this,” he said, reaching up to try and restore her hair.

“It was a two-hour hairdo, I wouldn’t know how to fix it either. Does it look terrible?”

He ran his palms down her arms. “Terrible? No. Not terrible. More like you were mauled in the elevator.”

She almost said I wish I was. But instead she giggled. She’d never done anything like this before. “I can’t believe that just happened. We’re practically strangers.” She pressed her forehead against his chest and he kissed the top of her head.

“We’re not really strangers,” he said, as the elevator doors opened. “And if we had been, we’re not anymore.”

A man she didn’t know was there, waiting. “Car’s here. There’s paps everywhere,” he said, and Joey pulled her along behind the guy as they walked briskly down the corridor to the back entrance.

“That’s Ben. He’s one of my guys,” he explained, then spoke to Ben. “What happened?”

“Some of the crowd got inside. Just rowdy protestors trying to get to the president. Everything’s under control now, but probably best to leave.”

“Head down,” he said to Olivia as Ben opened the steel door leading to the street. Immediately she heard the snaps of the cameras and the roar of reporters shouting questions as the lights from the flashes blinded her. Without hesitation, Joey put his arm around her shoulder, tucked her close, and shuffled her into a black SUV.

“Are you okay, Ms. Russo?” When she looked up, she saw Tom, her shitty security guard, seated in the front seat with Jax, who was driving.

“Maybe next time a smoking break isn’t such a great idea,” Olivia said.

“You think?” Jax said.

“Buckle up,” Joey instructed as the car began to move.

“Tom, did you see Mark? Is he okay?”

“Yes. He told me where you were and then took me to Jax. He was escorted out of the building, and he’s safely on his way home.”

“Good. That’s good.” She smoothed her hair a little. Did Tom know what had just happened in the elevator? Did Jax? She felt embarrassed that all this mayhem had been going on around them while she’d been making out with Joey.

“You’re fine,” he reached for her hand and laced his fingers through it. “Stop worrying.”

Stop worrying? There was no way she could stop worrying. She felt her hands shaking in his and he squeezed tighter.

“What happened, exactly? Just protestors? Protestors against me or the president?”

Jax glanced at her from the rearview mirror. “Both, probably. It’s hard to say. It’s my understanding you were going to be on the radar today because of your speech.”

“Yeah, but they didn’t even let me say it. How would they know?” She let out a long exhale. “No, it was probably the president. People might dislike me, but not enough to get arrested for it, right?” She looked over at Joey, who just shrugged.

“Don’t know, darlin’. But if they said it wasn’t too bad, just some overzealous protestors, let’s not worry too much about it. You haven’t had any problems before today, right?”

“Right. I mean, I think I had like five people picketing in front of office during my NRA speech last week, but that was the extent of it.”

“Then you’re probably okay. Feds just like to be extra careful. I’m sure you’ll be able to give your speech soon, and without the president in attendance.”

She wasn’t worried about not being able to give her speech. She was worried that she had some sort of angry mob out to get her. But, if Jax, Joey, and even Tom weren’t worrying, neither would she. She leaned back into the headrest and closed her eyes for the rest of the way home, glad the day was over even if the stupid speech would still be hanging over her head.

When they rounded the corner, Tom pressed on his key fob to open her big wrought-iron gate. Her property was surrounded by huge hedges, which had come in handy to keep reporters away since she’d become the center of attention. Her house wasn’t big, but her property was. Tom jumped out of the SUV and opened the door for her the moment Jax put the car into park.

“Be right back,” Joey said to Jax as he followed Olivia and Tom.

Tom—a big bulky man, probably in his late thirties, with longish hair held back with a rubber band—wasn’t much of a talker. He was a nice man, as far as she’d been able to tell. He’d been working for her the last three months at Mark’s request. The evening’s protocol was that he would do a check of her house, and once everything was to his liking he’d leave for the night, then, typically, return the next morning. But tomorrow was Sunday and she had no plans, so she wouldn’t see him until Monday.

Tom unlocked her front door and disappeared inside, leaving her on her porch alone with Joey. Secretly, she’d hoped Joey would’ve stayed in the car and left with Jax. She had no idea what to say to him. They’d kissed—okay, more than kissed—and she’d practically panted for more. Now what was she supposed to say? These were uncharted territories for her. They couldn’t just part ways as strangers like they had last time, right? Which reminded her . . .

“Shoot, with all the commotion I forgot to ask you. Did you know you’d see me here today?”

“Of course, woman.” He took a step closer so they were almost nose-to-nose. “You think I’d just let you walk away without trying to get your number or make you go out with me? Pft! The only reason I let you go was because I knew I’d see you today.”

That made her happy.

Really happy.

She’d been unbelievably bummed that he hadn’t made an effort and regretful that she hadn’t made one either. In her mind, she’d thought she’d never see Joey again after that night and that had made her feel sad.

He took her hands in his. “Where’s your daughter tonight?”

“Since she didn’t come right out to tackle-hug me, I’m thinking she and Winnie are already asleep.”

He brought up one of her hands and kissed it, softly. “Tomorrow. Seven.”

She started to bite her lips. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. In the elevator, I shouldn’t have . . .”

He pulled her lip free from her teeth. “Don’t do that. Don’t regret our first kiss.”

“First?”

He leaned in and whispered just as Tom walked out. “Silly woman, that was just the first of a lot of things that’s going to happen between us.” He winked as he turned and walked away, leaving her breathless, happy, and totally disoriented.

“Hey Joey,” she hollered, causing him to turn his head. “Thank you for tonight. You’re sweeter than I thought you’d be.” She shook her head, warring with herself. She wanted him to know that she didn’t want a relationship but she did want to see him again. Maybe she could try for some fun—like a reenactment of the elevator kiss—but nothing more serious than that. Between the campaign and her daughter, her life was too busy for anything more than just fun. “But I told you I didn’t need a Prince Charming.”

“Yet this is the second time I’ve come to your rescue, darlin’.”

Damn it. He was right.