Chapter Nine
♥
A day later she was sitting in a green room with Gabe, Conor, and Jonathon, waiting to tape a segment with Ellen. Jonathon had shown her some quick, fun dance moves to get her from the curtain to the chair. He was bouncing with excitement, and his raw energy was making her more nervous to face Ellen than she had been for her first meeting with the president. “Dear fucking God, is it time yet?”
A tap on the door and an announcement through it. “Ten minutes.”
She met Gabe’s gaze and exhaled hard. “Fuck.”
He stood and walked up to her. He opened his arms, and she stared at him for a long moment. She hadn’t allowed any of them to touch her since the Fairmont. She walked into his embrace. “This doesn’t change anything.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I know; just give me your fears so you can go out there free.”
She closed her eyes and nodded, inhaling, grounding on Gabe’s scent. Like it or not, he was her rock and always had been. She felt herself calming.
He whispered, “That’s it. Just breathe.”
The door opened. “Dr. Van Zant, we’re ready.”
She squeezed Gabe and left the room with a Secret Service agent following.
“Dr. Alexandra Van Zant, science advisor to the president.”
From there time fast-forwarded. She danced her way to the chair, heart racing, and hugged Ellen before she sat. Compliments were passed, jokes fallen face-first into, and then Ellen asked, “What’s the best part of being who you are right now?”
The president’s directive was clear in her mind. “Cause chaos. Convince the enemy I am insane. Draw them out.
“My wife was right; America loves you. Keep the dinner-table chatter and controversy going. Make our guy feel like you’ve forgotten about him; make him believe you are having so much fun being you that you aren’t giving him or the extinction-event threat a second thought.”
Alexandra faced the camera, smiled naughtily. “You know I have to answer working with the president of the United States, right?”
Ellen leaned close and pretended to whisper, “Just between me and you?”
“My men.”
Ellen slapped her knee. “You’re blushing! I love when redheads blush. There’s absolutely no doubt you’ve embarrassed the bejesus out of them.” She pointed behind herself at the large wall screen, where her shirtless men, wearing only tux slacks and dress shoes, were standing around her, muscles pumped. She was posed in a leather wing chair, wearing a beaded and fine-mesh black evening gown, her nipples blurred for Ellen’s PG audience. “I just acquired an advance copy of the February cover of Men’s Health—”
“Oh my gosh, I haven’t even seen a proof yet!” Alexandra exclaimed, covering her mouth. “How? That’s the cover?”
“That is the cover.” Ellen shrugged. “So, I’m sure America wants to know how many six-packs fit in your bed at once.”
Alexandra doubled over, laughing.
“I mean, you can get drunk just looking at that.”
Alexandra tried to pull herself together but kept laughing.
“I’ve been told you never use their names in public. Do you call them Man One, Man Two, Man Three?”
“No, I usually refer to them by their names.”
“As there has been so much exposure and speculation already, why do you continue to contractually insist their names not be used?”
“They’re really very shy.”
“Uh-huh.” Ellen rolled her eyes, pointing at the photo. “Shy. So, what’s the worst part of being Dr. Alexandra Van Zant?”
Alexandra opened and closed her mouth before saying softly, “I don’t think there is a worst part.”
“Oh boy, I hate to disagree and put you on the spot.” Photos of her filled the screen. Alexandra covered her eyes as a slide show began on the wall behind them. Photos of the Secret Service blocking her path at multiple locations they’d deemed unsafe because they couldn’t provide her adequate cover; her obviously arguing with her armed agents. “If we were to take a wild guess… Audience, help me jog Alexandra’s memory.”
The audience screamed, “Secret Service!”
The cameras panned to the two men standing not far from her, but just out of the camera angle. They ducked, embarrassed, and turned from the cameras.
“Seems all your men are shy,” Ellen said jokingly. “So having Secret Service follow you twenty-four-seven can’t be easy. You’ve been known to ditch them on several occasions, but protecting you, that’s the job, right? To be a fly on that wall. So they must have some view—”
“Oh no!” Alexandra laughed nervously and said very softly, “Not in my bedroom. That would be weird. I have my three bodyguards, G, C, and J, for night duty.”
The audience went wild with that comment.
“On that note, we’ll cut to a commercial.”
♥ ♥ ♥
Exhausted following a two-week marathon of appearances, Alexandra sat in a chair, submitting to hair and makeup artists as she checked off her list of to-dos before she could leave on vacation. This would be the last photo shoot before Ireland. A hairstylist sprayed her heavily with hair lacquer. She coughed on the fumes. After another moment, she batted the woman away. “Enough! Jesus!”
“Tell me again how you got roped into this madness?” Conor demanded as a clothing stylist adjusted the suit he was wearing, pinching it here and there with clips to achieve a tailored fit without taking the time to sew.
It was after midnight. The photo shoot had to be scheduled at a ridiculous time because the production was to take place at all the touristy spots around town.
“The story isn’t going to change, no matter how many times I retell it.” She met his gaze, knowing just how much he hated the attention of a dozen hands petting him at once. She laughed. “You look absolutely miserable.”
He exhaled. “But you’re smiling.”
“So?”
“It’s been weeks since you’ve smiled, or laughed, unless a camera was on you. I’d suffer a dozen fashion shoots if it makes you happy. That’s all any of us want.”
“You, Gabe, and Jonathon?”
“Who else? Do you have another man tucked into a cupboard we don’t know about?” He tilted his head, holding her gaze as he pushed free of the stylists to stalk toward her.
“It’s hard to smile when a different assassin arrives on our doorstep almost daily,” she whispered tensely, her smile disappearing. It seemed stopping the pandemic before it took a firm hold had infuriated her enemies, and they were even more determined but no closer to capturing and interrogating them.
Her lips parted as he placed his hands on her hips. “We’ve kept you safe, yeah?”
Acutely aware of their audience whenever they were out in public together, she sometimes pondered how she and her men had become the most entertaining story of the year. As far as photo shoots went, who knew it took so many people to take a few pictures? She whispered, “No other men. I’ve given men up entirely.”
The tension between them was static and constant. She refused to discuss her rage and had had no intimate time with any of them since the big blowup at the Fairmont. She missed them touching her, loving her, fucking her, but she was also too stubborn to back down. So partly in an attempt to spend more time with them, she’d found hundreds of reasons to leave AODH and pull them away from the pub and, as a result, flaunted them all over town. She introduced them as her men, but it was a complete and utter lie. They’d become nothing more than her bodyguards. If they were fucking one another, she didn’t know about it.
The problem was she hadn’t stopped wanting them. “Where are Gabe and Jonathon? They should have been here by now.”
“They’ll be here. They had some business to attend to.”
“There was another assassin, wasn’t there?” she whispered, her distress obvious. “It’s why you so adamantly rushed me away from the pub. You didn’t give a damn if we were on time or late. You didn’t want me to see the blood.”
A corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile as he said, so softly she almost didn’t hear, “There was no blood.”
She arched a brow, whispering, “But there was a body?”
“Perhaps my sole reason for rushing was because I’m selfish, and I want you to myself.” He lowered his face to kiss her.
She tilted her head, wanting him to kiss her. “I want to be alone with you.”
“Your other two men better hurry up.” Her stylist’s interruption reminded them every overheard word could be reported to journalists the moment the shoot ended.
Conor turned and glared, making the young, effeminate man run away, ducking behind the crowd of production staff. He turned back to her and ran his thumb along her bottom lip.
“You’ll smear my lipstick,” she warned.
He leaned nearer. “Do you know what you’re doing to me, woman? Do you know how badly I want to smear your lipstick in a dozen different ways you’d never forget?”
God, yes. Her bottom lip trembled as his mouth came so close, threatening to kiss her. She could barely breathe. She wanted him to cross the line she’d drawn in the sand so frantically and without clear thought.
At the last moment he turned away. “Gabe and Jonathon are here.”
She exhaled, feeling her heart flutter like a dozen captured butterflies. “How do you know?”
He gave her a sideways glance. “Can you really be so oblivious to your surroundings?”
Gabe came up behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist. He kissed her cheek. “Sorry. I know we’re tardy. It couldn’t be helped.”
“Please tell me you delivered this one alive so he could be interrogated.”
“Not really an option.”
It seemed it was never an option.
As he kissed her temple, she thought how good he’d become at faking their relationship. They’d all become masters of the lie. It hurt more and more every day that they were all lying so damn well. She hoped in the solitude of Ireland she would be able to sort out in her mind what she wanted to do. She’d never taken a true vacation in her life and couldn’t imagine taking one now, but wanted or not, and regardless of her confused feelings and the state of their current separation, she refused to be the one who made Gabe miss his biannual visit with his grandmother.
Stylists immediately swarmed him and Jonathon, stripping them to redress them and then launching into hair and makeup.
♥ ♥ ♥
“Enough!” Gabe announced at dawn.
He’d been watching Alexandra the entire shoot, and it was clear to him, if to no one else, she had hit a wall. Her exhaustion was palpable.
She met his gaze and gave him a half smile. He tried not to project his hopes, dreams, needs into the situation, but for just a moment he saw her. She’d been shielding herself from him so hard that the small smile was a beacon of hope he was willing to cling to. He lost sight of her as they were all stripped from their finery and changed into the clothes they’d worn to the shoot.
“Xandra?” Conor asked him, and the concern in his voice was evident.
“Hopefully laying down,” Gabe assured him, “I saw her walking toward the trailer set up for her dressing room.”
“She’s not there.”
Both men started looking for her.
“We can’t keep going on like this, and if you’re not willing to push her a little to get her to make up, I’m more than willing—”
Gabe shoved Conor hard in the chest, sending him back two paces. “I trust you, but that doesn’t mean I’ll allow you to pressure her into more than she’s willing to give. Once she surrenders her pain to me and allows me to begin healing our relationship, you’ll be the first to know. ”
Conor came back, hands in fists, but he didn’t hit Gabe. “Are you sure it’s not your vanity talking? I’m only saying, let her decide for herself.”
“She isn’t emotionally ready to make a choice”
Conor chuckled. “She’d love to know your low opinion of her mental health.”
“You know that’s not what I meant! Being dominated takes emotional stamina.”
“Or emotional vulnerability,” Conor countered.
“She’s made it very clear; she only sees the perversion. She doesn’t want to be dominated.” Gabe shook his head. “And by God, if I can’t top her, I’ll not be swayed to let you have a hand at it.”
“You didn’t have a problem when I topped her the Friday night this all began. It gave her a taste of the power I can wield over her, and she wants more. That’s what started this fucking mess we’re in now. I refused her out of respect and loyalty to you. Damn me for that. Because if I’d given her what she wanted, she wouldn’t have walked in on you fucking Jonathon in the next room.”
“Topping is not dominating, and well you know it.”
“Agreed, but I’ll not back down. We have to establish new guidelines if any of us are going to be able to pull this ménage back together. Have you considered if you don’t mend this rift soon, there may be no going back? I’m only asking for some alone time. Maybe I can talk some sense into her.”
“I’m warning you; don’t push me, Conor. It won’t be a wise move on your part. And you know as well as I, a lot has happened in two months. Her world is spinning. I’m just glad she hasn’t locked herself away from us completely, and she seems to still be eating regularly. You don’t know how ugly her mental state can turn or how quickly. She’s obviously in a manic phase, and it’s the most dangerous time for her, the time she’s most vulnerable for slipping into the abyss.”
“You keep making a different excuse every day.”
“You forget how many years I’ve had with this woman.”
“As a child, not a woman, and there’s a vast difference between the two.”
“For Alexandra, falling into the abyss is a one-way ticket to crazy town. I won’t take a chance of that happening. We leave for an extended stay in Ireland in two hours; all I’m asking is for you to wait, at least until after we return, or possibly until after the wedding.”
“I think you underestimate her mental and emotional stamina.”
“And you overestimate it.”
“Regardless, the details of our relationship need to be figured out way before a wedding when the date isn’t even set yet,” Conor countered.
“Perhaps.”
“I don’t want to steal her from you. I’ve only ever asked for a bit of time alone with her.”
“To dominate her!”
Gabe and Conor discovered Alexandra had fallen asleep in the back of the SUV with her head resting on Jonathon’s lap.
Gabe knew it wasn’t the end of Conor’s petition as they hurriedly climbed into the SUV. He was thankful Alexandra’s OCD tendencies had insisted the vehicle be packed for the trip before heading to the photo shoot. He directed the agent driving to take them straight to the private jet terminal at CVG. The drive over the river and to the airport allowed her another hour’s sleep. He waited until the last second after luggage was loaded and documentation checked. Only then did he gently wake her. “The jet’s ready to be boarded, mo grhá.”
“My love,” she whispered, translating his endearment. Both Jonathon and Conor heard. She nodded sleepily and sat up.
Leaning out of the open door, she vomited, wiped her mouth, and apologized to the agent holding her door open. “I really hope I didn’t hit your shoes.”
Gabe hurried to offer her a steadying hand. “You shouldn’t be making this trip.”
“I’m fine. Would you rather me stay here with the protection of Jonathon and Conor while you trot about Ireland?” She snorted at the look that crossed his face. “Oh, that’s right; you don’t trust me with them or them with me. You’ve got to be the one calling all the fucking shots, and I won’t risk you canceling your trip to visit your grandmother to stay home and babysit me.”
“Xandra, love, when does this end? It’s been weeks. I’m watching you run yourself ragged, and you’re making yourself physically ill.”
“You’re really going to ask me that?” she demanded, crossing the distance between SUV and jet. “I think we both know how this ends.”
Gabe exhaled. “You in an ICU ward is an unacceptable ending.”
She stared at him for a long moment.
“Alexandra, please be reasonable.”
She pulled away. “Stop worrying; you know how many meds I take. My stomach hates me already, and the stress I’ve been under for the past six weeks, especially the past two, fighting with you, is making my stomach hate me so much more. I just hope they have fucking tea and saltines on the plane.”
He noted the point made; her argument was only with him. “If not, Jonathon packed some.”
“Because you ordered him to?” She took the stairs to the jet’s open door as fast as she was able.
“Smooth, boss,” Jonathon said snidely as he mounted the stairs as well.
♥ ♥ ♥
After eight hours in the air and six hours trying to entertain a restless and unhappy Rowan, they arrived at DUB at nine p.m. Alexandra closed her eyes, saying a silent prayer of gratitude for being able to escape the confines of the plane. She met Karen’s gaze. “I promise, I will decide on a nanny by the time we return to the States.”
“As if you haven’t had more pressing tasks. Stop worrying. I’m fine, she’s fine, and eventually you will get accustomed to her crying.”
“I’m a horrid mother.”
“No, just inexperienced, and I wouldn’t say Rowan is an easy baby.”
“I’d say not,” Gabe chimed in, taking her. Of course she giggled for him. “She’s surrounded by strangers. She’d be happy as a clam if her mom and dad could be raised from the dead.”
Alexandra closed her eyes. “I’m losing my mind, because I know I did not just hear you make a smart-ass comment about Siobhan’s and Edward’s deaths!”
“Shh, let’s go to the hotel and get some sleep,” Karen suggested, wrapping her arm around Alexandra’s shoulder. “Tomorrow will be much brighter.”
Alexandra didn’t argue. They’d lost half a day in flight, and she had loads she’d wanted to get done upon arrival.
Two SUVs were parked on the tarmac and ready to transport Alexandra, Gabe, Conor, Jonathon, Karen, Rowan, and four additional Secret Service agents to the Westin. It became apparent, listening to Conor and Jonathon, a night on the town was planned.
Jonathon hip-bumped her. “I am going to dance all night. Come with me, blow off some steam. I promise Gabe did not put me up to asking. I’m honestly worried about you. We all are.”
“Whatever.” She said dismissively. “I also know you would lie to me for him.”
Once they were loaded into the vehicles, she met Gabe’s gaze in the darkened interior of their SUV. “I think Xandra and I are going to grab some room service and make it an early night.”
She mouthed, Thank you, before saying, “You two should go out. Blow off some steam before we’re trapped in the country.”
“She’s been to the Gowan estate before, has she?” Conor asked. “Too damned quiet, and I swear the manor house is fucking haunted as hell.”
“Estate? It’s grand, then?” Jonathon asked.
Conor chuckled. “Plan to get lost at least once looking for the toilet.”
♥ ♥ ♥
Alexandra carried the still-fussy Rowan as she entered the hotel lobby and was immediately met by the radio journalist Adrian Kennedy. Her shoulders slumped. Mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted, she’d completely forgotten she’d agreed to an interview as soon as she got into town. She kissed Rowan’s forehead and passed her to Karen. “So, prerecorded, right, to play tomorrow midmorning?”
“Yes, we have a conference room set up, if you will—”
Adrian barely touched her elbow as he directed her down the hall, but a Secret Service agent stepped between them before Adrian actually made full contact. The agent demanded, “Are you all right?”
Alexandra was so startled she gasped, and Gabe, Conor, and Jonathon raced to her side as the biological attack in Cincinnati reinserted itself front and center in her thoughts. She assured the Secret Service agent, “I’m fine.”
Gabe leaned close, pressing his cheek to hers as he whispered next to her ear, “You. Are. Certain?”
“Yes, I am fine. I promise.” She stroked Gabe’s cheek.
Conor dropped his hands to her waist, holding her firmly as they made eye contact and touched foreheads together. He said nothing. Alexandra nodded, and he released her. She grabbed Jonathon’s hand and held it as she exhaled, meeting Adrian’s gaze. “Sorry, but no one is ever allowed to touch me, and my men take the commander in chief’s orders very personally since there have been several attempts on my life.”
“Jeez. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Alexandra shrugged and said dead seriously, “You never know. A simple touch might be an attack of a common-cold virus.”
He laughed, thinking she’d made a joke, saying, “I understand,” but she knew he didn’t, and it was better that way. “I will lead the way.”
“Thank you.” She kept a hold on Jonathon’s hand, not knowing why. During the two weeks she’d been so mad at Gabe, he was the only one she felt comfortable sharing her exhaustion with. It was absolutely ludicrous, but she’d fallen asleep more times in two weeks with her head on his shoulder or lap than she could ever remember falling asleep with anyone else.
♥ ♥ ♥
Alexandra stood in the shower as long as she possibly could. She’d hoped Gabe would join her, but she knew he was too much of a gentleman. If she wanted the relationship to resume where it had left off, she would have to initiate the first move. The relationship can’t just resume as if nothing happened. Too much is at stake. When she finally turned off the water, she could hear him going over maps and strategies with the lead Secret Service agent. She dried her hair and pulled on a pair of gray jersey-knit pajama bottoms and camisole. She also slipped on a contrasting black kimono-style robe, with wide lace at the hem of the sleeves, and house slippers before joining the men, who were sitting around a table with so many notes on the map, it seemed more war planning than vacation.
“I’m going to Siobhan and Edward’s house in the morning and afterward the cemetery, so fit that into the itinerary.”
“I don’t think either is a good plan.” Gabe pulled her down into his lap.
“It’s a nonnegotiable,” she said to the agent. “Make it happen.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The agent stood. “What time do you wish to leave?”
Alexandra exhaled and met Gabe’s gaze. “Mamó expects us at a specific hour?”
“We have all day. She isn’t expecting us until dinner. If we leave here between one and two, we’ll be fine.”
“We leave the hotel at nine. Could you spread the word, Agent?”
“Yes, ma’am. Sleep well, ma’am.”
She didn’t stand and so neither could Gabe when the agent left them. He said, “I should bolt the door.”
“I’m pretty sure there are two men outside that door. We’re safe for a moment longer.” She closed her eyes and rested her head against him. “I’m exhausted.”
“I’d hoped you’d sleep during the flight.”
“That was kind of impossible with Rowan screaming her guts out. I don’t know what to do for her. I don’t know how to raise a baby.” A tear slid down her cheek. “My parents were right; I have no business raising a child.” No business being in a relationship either.
Gabe asked softly. “Can I make a suggestion?”
“Please.”
“You’re going to have to take the time to bond with her, but even before that, you need to relax. Babies are like guard dogs. If you approach them with terror, they will sense it and destroy you.”
“Narcotics hidden inside a hunk of bloody meat is an easy diversion for an attack dog.” Alexandra tried to process what he was saying. “How the fuck do I bond with a baby?”
“I suggest not using narcotics or raw meat. Hold her; give her your heart.”
“I love Rowan,” she said angrily as she pushed off his lap.
Gabe pulled her back down against him before she could get far, whispering, “Loving her is not the same as giving her your heart, your soul.”
“Because you know so much about that, do you?” She left his lap, went into the bedroom, and closed the door, hoping his stomach turned as hard as hers when she threw the privacy bolt.