Renee excused herself and stood from the conference table. The three men in expensive suits barely noticed her, Derek giving her a small nod to indicate it was fine for her to step out. In the hallway with the door to the meeting room closed, she let out a shuddering breath and leaned back against the wall, massaging her temples.

Getting loaded the night before she had to work had not been her best idea, but she had so few chances to see Elise or simply relax, the combination of events had been too tempting. Her mother’s last round of chemo had been rough, but she was well enough now to stay alone overnight, Elise was in between boyfriends, and the long Saturday meeting meant Renee would be earning extra cash to pay for all of those tequila shots. So, she’d done it, gone out, abandoned her responsibilities, and had far too much to drink. Now she was paying the price.

“Aw princess, I was hoping the hangover wouldn’t be too bad.” She looked up to find Marcus standing at the end of the hall watching her with sympathetic eyes.

She stood straight and walked toward him, moving away from the conference room where Derek would be bound to hear his brother’s voice.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, brushing past him into the reception area.

He followed close behind. “I thought I’d come check to see how you’re feeling.”

She felt a panicky sensation, remembering their lip-locking session the night before. Lip-locking that might have turned into other parts locking if she’d been a touch more sober or maybe a touch more drunk, she wasn’t sure which. Her face heated and she quickly started shuffling papers on her desk to avoid looking Marcus in the eyes.

“Well, I’m fine, so you don’t need to worry about me.” She turned a forced smile his direction before nudging past him to start a new pot of coffee, her heart thumping like a trapped animal.

“Hmm,” he grunted, moving rapidly after her and leaning a hip against the counter where the coffee maker sat. “I take it this is the brush-off?”

She looked at him and saw the tight press of his lips, the line between his brows. He was obviously unhappy, but really, what did he expect? He knew as well as she did that kiss had been a colossal mistake.

“I’m not sure what you mean?” she muttered.

“You’re going to pretend like we never kissed last night? Really?”

She sighed and finally turned to him. For a split second she saw hurt in his eyes, but then they shifted to his usual cocky carelessness. “The polite thing would be to follow my lead,” she answered.

“Why? Why do we have to act like it never happened? Seemed to me you were enjoying it every bit as much as I did.” He stepped closer and she suddenly had trouble catching her breath.

His voice got lower, rougher, so much sexier. “I seem to remember you pressing those gorgeous tits against me and letting out the cutest little moan I’ve ever heard when I palmed your ass.”

Renee swallowed, unable to look away from his laser-focused stare. “You have a dirty mouth,” she whispered.

“All the better to kiss you with,” he answered as his head lowered, closer…closer.

A door slammed and Derek’s voice carried down the hallway. “I don’t give a damn if every other candidate on the east coast has a mistress, my guy won’t. Whatever shit he’s gotten himself into he’d better get himself out or he will never be Senator from the Great State of Virginia. I’ll make sure of it personally.”

Renee jumped back, confusion and frustration clouding her vision for a moment. Marcus crossed his arms and gave her a wry smile. “Not going to challenge big brother, huh?”

“I can’t.” She looked at him, willing him to understand. It wasn’t something she could control. People’s lives depended on her keeping this job, and while Marcus didn’t seem to realize it, she’d bet that his own relationship with Derek was on the line here as well.

Derek appeared, cell phone glued to his ear, scowl etched into his features. He looked at Renee and Marcus standing awkwardly in the lobby.

“Hold on a minute, Tarek,” he said, lowering the phone.

“What brings you by?” he asked Marcus, casting suspicious glances between him and Renee.

“I thought I’d see if you wanted to have lunch.” Marcus was cool as a cucumber. If Renee hadn’t already heard his real reasons for being there she’d never have known he was lying. Somehow that thought didn’t comfort her. How could she want a man who could dissemble with the skill of some of Washington’s most experienced politicians?

“You working?” Derek asked.

“Yeah, so I’ve only got an hour.”

“Sorry, sport. I’ve got at least another hour of this crap for my guy in Virginia. We’ve been in a strategy session all morning.”

“No worries. I was just on a story about the Supremes,” he said, referring to the Supreme Court, whose offices were a few blocks from Derek’s, “so I thought I’d check. We’ll get together tomorrow to watch the game?”

“Absolutely.” Derek turned to Renee. “You’re making coffee? Great. I think Desi Romero is about to puke on my cherry wood desk. He was barhopping with a bunch of congressional aides last night in Georgetown and they drank him under the table.”

Renee laughed. “I’ve got it handled, bossman.”

“Good job.” He looked at Marcus, his shrewd gaze still assessing. “I’ve got to get back to this,” he held up the phone in his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Marcus smiled. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

Derek nodded and moved off to his office, shouting into the phone once again.

Renee grabbed the coffee pot and a tray of cups, knowing that this was her chance to escape, because if Marcus started talking to her again, leaning toward her again, touching her again? She’d give in for sure. Like she had last night, and that simply couldn’t happen.

“Thanks for stopping by,” she chirped as she moved past him heading toward the conference room.

He put out a hand and touched her elbow. She stilled, refusing to look at him. She couldn’t look at him.

“That’s it?”

“It has to be.” She shook off his touch and moved on, away from the pull, the attraction, the want. There was no room for want in her world.

---

In the days following Renee’s rejection, Marcus threw himself into his new job. He chased stories, worked fifteen hours a day and lived, breathed and ate the news. He quickly realized that his previous “hot shot” status might have gotten him the position, but now that he had it no one gave a shit. He had to prove himself all over again, and it wouldn’t be easy. Luckily it provided the perfect distraction from the stomping that his heart had been dealt. He knew that Renee was committed to her job, but he still felt the sharp sting of her seemingly easy dismissal. Their kiss had shifted Marcus’s world a touch. There was the world before the kiss and the world after it. Everything was the same, but it wasn’t. A little brighter, a little warmer, a bit softer. But if she’d felt it she couldn’t have turned him away like she did, so he spent his nights remembering her touch and his days trying to forget it.

It was only his fourth week on the job when he drew the car crash detail. Yes, he was officially hired as a political reporter, but when something in D.C. happened right outside the White House grounds, that meant WNN covered it, even if it was a car wreck. He grabbed Alex, and they hopped in one of the station vans to get to the accident.

“What do you know about this?” Alex asked as he navigated the crowded streets around the National Mall. As they flanked the west side of the White House complex the flashing lights and barricades manned by military personnel said that this was a major event, not a minor fender bender.

“Not much,” Marcus said, watching the chaos in front of them carefully. “Pull it up on that curb right there. I’ll handle the soldiers.”

Alex looked at him and shook his head. “Yeah. Give that a shot. I don’t think you had anyone like the White House guard in Philly. These dudes don’t screw around.”

“Trust me. Just pull up. Put it on the sidewalk right there so it won’t block traffic.”

Alex did as Marcus suggested, then sat, hands on the steering wheel and stared at the flashing lights ten yards in front of them.

“Come on,” Marcus prompted. “Let’s get going, make sure we don’t get scooped by F-News.”

“Ten, nine, eight, seven…”

“What are you counting?” Marcus asked, looking at Alex in confusion.

“Three, two, one.”

Marcus jumped when a soldier holding an automatic rifle knocked on the window next to him.

“I’ll need you to get out of the car, sir,” the soldier commanded.

Marcus opened the door and stepped out.

“Hands on top of your head, please,” the soldier continued. Marcus simultaneously heard another soldier giving the same commands to Alex on the other side of the car.

Two more armed men wearing SWAT uniforms came jogging up to the van, one of them leading a large German Shepherd.

“You realize it’s illegal to park on a public pedestrian-way?” the soldier asked Marcus as he patted him down.

“Yes, sir,” Marcus responded. “But we’re with WNN and need to get close enough to the story that we can move our equipment in.”

The soldier took Marcus’s press badge out of the inside pocket of his jacket and looked it over. “Be that as it may Mr. Ambrose…”

Marcus tried to contain his grin as the soldier’s face registered the recognition of the name.

Taking advantage of the pause, Marcus dove in. “Is Colonel Thibadeux here this evening? He can vouch for me,” he said, referring to his brother’s close friend, the Director of Domestic Operations for the Pentagon.

“You’re related to Derek Ambrose?” the soldier asked.

“Yes sir, I’m his brother.”

“One moment, please.” The soldier stepped away, keeping his eyes trained on Marcus the entire time. He spoke into his radio briefly, nodding. When he returned he gestured to the three other men who were circling the van, examining every square inch of it. They all came to stand nearby, and Alex was brought over as well.

“Our apologies for detaining you, Mr. Ambrose. I’m going to leave PFC Johnson—“ he gestured at one of the men with the dog, “with your van to keep an eye on it. Corporal Andrews here will escort you to the scene of the accident, and answer any questions you might have. And Colonel Thibodeaux says welcome to Washington, sir.”

Marcus did break out in a grin at that. “Thank you, sergeant. I appreciate your help.” After Alex got his equipment from the van, he and Marcus followed Corporal Andrews through the mass of soldiers, paramedics and Secret Service agents buzzing around the seven-car pile-up. Alex leaned over and whispered, “How the hell did you pull that off?”

Marcus just gave him a smile, enjoying the idea of being mysterious. “It helps to have friends in high places,” he answered.

“You’re going to have to choose a regular photographer to work with. I’m offering to be that guy. Just, you know, in case you’re thinking about it.”

Marcus didn’t take his eyes off the wreckage in front of them. “Show me you can keep up tonight and we’ll talk.”

“You got it,” Alex said, swinging his camera onto his shoulder and flipping it on.

“Tell me what you’ve got on this?” Marcus asked their military escort.

“Seven cars. We’ve been through with dogs, no explosives discovered. Looks like some teenagers were driving under the influence and t-boned a Town Car. It dominoed from there. So far it looks like all four kids need to go to the hospital and we’ve got two others in serious condition, but the rest look to be okay.”

“So, really just a wreck, huh? No terrorism? No Congressmen or Senators involved?” Marcus laughed.

“Looks that way, sir. The President tried to come out to make sure everyone was okay, but the Secret Service won’t let him. That’s about the only political type thing we’ve seen.” He broke his official stoic soldier expression for just a moment and grinned.

“Thanks, man,” Marcus said, shaking the soldier’s hand. He motioned to Alex. “All right. Let’s roll.”

---

Marcus loved the thrill of the chase. Chasing stories was every bit as exciting as chasing women. When he was on a live scene, his adrenaline spiked, his heart raced, and he felt alive. It was the best high in the world. Well, maybe the second best.

He made his way through the crowds, shouldering aside shorter and less aggressive reporters. At six foot one he was able to see over most of the heads and the wreckage was a mess. Four cars were only lightly banged up, but three others were a twisted mass of metal, and rescue workers were crowded around one, trying to remove the occupants. He wondered if the removal team was working with live bodies or dead. He’d seen some pretty gruesome things at accidents and fires in Philly, but he’d never done war reporting, so it still sent a wave of nausea through him whenever he had to report on carnage like what was in front of him.

He took a deep breath and steeled himself. “This way,” he instructed Alex as he swung around a vintage Oldsmobile Cutlass that had jackknifed up onto the sidewalk alongside the White House lawn. He stepped over chunks of broken glass and pieces of twisted metal, nodding in approval when he noticed Alex capturing it all on film. As he approached the car that the rescue workers were consumed with, something about the older Subaru wagon seemed familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

Alex followed along, a step behind and to the side so that he was seeing everything Marcus was and recording all of it. The network would distribute the footage along with Marcus’s report to local affiliates all over the country, right in time for the late night news in all time zones.

Ten feet away, Marcus could see what the rescue workers were doing, but was still far enough to be out of their way. Under the floodlights that rescuers had set up, the area was bathed in a cold white light that washed out any colors other than the dark stain of blood that smeared various places on the asphalt of the street. He stopped and watched, feeling Alex at his left shoulder, ready to leap into action. The workers had the jaws-of-life out and were in the process of prying open the passenger door of the car. Marcus turned, adjusted his tie and reached to take the handheld microphone from Alex.

“You ready?” Alex asked.

“Yeah,” Marcus answered, but before he could begin speaking into the camera there was the sound of crunching metal from behind him and then a whoop. He turned right as the workers tore the last barricade of metal off the car and reached in to remove the occupant. Marcus watched as the body of a young man was pulled free, his limbs loose in the way only the very unconscious or the dead could be. The crowd around him seemed to hold its breath in unison as the teen was finally pulled free, his hair damp with blood, his clothes shredded by pieces of metal and glass, some still embedded in the fabric, and undoubtedly in his skin as well. The victim was placed on a stretcher and rolled away from the wrecked car.

Marcus looked down as the stretcher slid by him, and stared straight into the face of David Erikson.

---

Renee rushed through the doors to the ER nearly blind with fear. The call had come from Derek, but she hadn't even asked why or how he had the information. There had been a horrible accident in front of the White House, and David was being taken to the hospital. He was unconscious. They'd needed the jaws-of-life to get him out of the car. Renee was sick, her heart broken into a thousand pieces in her chest. She hadn't woken their mother with the news, she knew there was nothing their mom could do and it would only add to her stress.

"Please," she gasped to the woman who staffed the front counter inside the ER lobby. "My brother, he was brought in. The wreck. Oh God, he's only seventeen."

"I'm sorry ma'am, but I'll need more information than that to locate him and update you on his status. Please fill this out—" she handed over a clipboard, "—front and back, and we'll get to you as soon as possible."

Renee stood, shell-shocked, staring at the papers in her hand. The tears were about to start and she knew there was nothing she could do to stop them.

"Here," someone said behind her. She turned to find Marcus looking at her with such sorrow it was the final straw. She burst into tears, the sobs wracking her frame with an intensity she didn't know was possible.

"God," Marcus whispered. "Come here." He put a strong arm around her shoulders, gently lifted the clipboard out of her hands and walked her over to a small loveseat on the far side of the waiting room.

Once he had her seated with a box of Kleenex beside her he said, "I'll be right back, and I'll get you in to see him. Promise you'll wait right here?" She nodded, still unable to speak as she tried to control the gasps coming from far deep inside of her. It was a fear and a pain like nothing she’d ever felt. She’d thought she could never be more frightened than she was the day she’d found out about her mother. How wrong she’d been.

When Marcus returned, Renee had gotten the worst of the tears out of the way and regained the ability to breathe. She worked hard to control her shaking and keep her thoughts corralled so she could really listen to him. He sat next to her and held her hand as he brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face.

"Someone's going to be here in a couple of minutes to tell you exactly what's happening with David. Can I get you something? Water or coffee?"

Renee shook her head. "No, thank you. But how did you get them to send someone out? I didn't fill out the forms."

"Let me worry about that. You just try to hold on so that you'll understand what the doctor has to tell you."

She nodded. "Did Derek call you too?" she asked, becoming rational enough to wonder what her erstwhile savior was doing there.

Marcus scratched his head and looked uncomfortable. Finally he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"No. I called him." He looked her in the eyes, apologies written all over his face. "I was one of the reporters on the scene."

"Oh God." She realized that he must have seen David being pulled from the wreckage. "You saw him?"

Marcus nodded slowly. "I did. I won't lie, Renee. It didn't look good."

She pressed a hand over her mouth, trying to keep the hysteria from erupting again. "Okay," she croaked out.

"Mr. Ambrose?" They both looked up to see a young, exhausted-looking doctor doing her best to smile at them.

Marcus stood, bringing Renee with him as he put an arm around her shoulders to steady her. "Yes, and this is David Erikson's sister, Renee. She's the one you need to update."

The young doctor nodded. "Your brother was brought in about forty minutes ago, and he's sustained severe injuries due to an automobile accident. He's been unconscious since he arrived, and we're currently running tests to check for internal injuries including any swelling or bleeding in his brain."

"That's bad, right?" Renee asked, her eyes darting between Marcus and the doctor. "If he has brain swelling or bleeding that could be really bad, right?"

"It could be, but I don't want you to panic, right now all we know is that he appears to have broken his tibia on one leg and cracked a few ribs. We'll have more answers in the next forty-five minutes or so.”

Marcus thanked the doctor and sat back down on the sofa with Renee.

A cold resignation washed over her. She wasn’t going to get answers to her fears anytime soon. Her experiences in hospitals told her that she was in for a long wait, so she shut down, prepared to accept whatever happened next. "Thank you for getting someone out here to update me,” she said robotically as the adrenaline drained out of her. “It sounds like this interrupted you at work. Please don't feel like you have to stay. I'll be fine now. I'm pretty used to hospital waiting rooms actually."

"Oh?" Marcus raised an eyebrow. "David break a lot of bones growing up?"

Renee laughed softly. "No, he was actually a very easy kid. I know that seems crazy now, but he was good...sweet even. Happy."

Her chest ached at the memory of David's soft golden head lying next to hers at night.

"Nay Nay?"

"Yeah, Peanut?"

"I like sleeping with you a lot more than by myself."

"Me too, Peanut."

She sat up straighter to clear away the memory. "No, my time in hospitals has been a lot more recent." She took a deep breath. "My mother has breast cancer, pretty advanced, so there have been surgeries, radiation, chemo, the whole thing."

Marcus didn't say anything for a moment and Renee wanted to pull the words back, return to a moment when she was simply a pretty girl he wanted to chase instead of the object of pity she was bound to be now.

"That's rough, and explains why you're looking after David so much."

Renee snorted. "Well, tonight shows what a great job I'm doing with that."

"Hey." He put a finger under her chin, turning her face to him. "You're what? Twenty-two?"

She nodded.

"And you're taking care of both your mom and your teenage brother? You're a damn hero in my book. I can't tell you how much I admire that. My parents are older and they're good, solid middle-class people, but not a lot of money, no college. Derek was the one who got a scholarship to Cornell, graduated cum laude, and made a few hundred million dollars. He paid for everything I've done since I was about sixteen. Without him I'd be nothing today. His encouragement, his money, his expectations. Older siblings like you and Derek are amazing people, and nothing that happened to David tonight is your fault."

She breathed deeply, taking in his approval, his compliments, his respect, and let it warm the cold center of her heart. There had been times in the last six months when some of her mother's friends had told her what a great job she was doing, but for most of the time she'd been on her own, earning the majority of the family's money, doing all of the caretaking, losing touch with all of her friends except Elise, her life as a college student, and the kid her brother had once been. She didn't realize how much she needed someone to tell her that they understood it was hard, that she was doing a good job, or at least the best she could, and that she couldn't be blamed for everything that went wrong.

"Thank you." She squeezed Marcus's arm. "You don't know how much I needed to hear that."

"I'll tell you any time you need to hear it. Just let me know. And as for me leaving? No way. As long as you’re here, I’m here.”

“You must need to get back to work,” she continued.

“Nope. It’s all handled. And Derek will stop by as soon as he can. He’s at some function right now, but I promised him I’d be here with you.” He paused, seeming to consider his next words. “Is there someone else you’d like me to call? Your father? A boyfriend?”

“No,” she answered softly. “My father’s been gone a very long time, and I’d think after the other night at the bar you’d know I don’t have a boyfriend. I did, and…well, it all got to be too much for him. So, he’s gone now too. Which is for the best I imagine. I don’t think I could have handled trying to have a relationship with all of this.”

She thought back to the night Ryan had broken up with her. “I’m sorry Renee,” he’d said, his blue eyes shining. “I can’t handle this. I mean, I want to be there for you, but I know I’m not up to it. I can barely handle remembering to feed my dog. I’m not ready to be that kind of boyfriend—the one who keeps you together while your mom dies.”

She’d screamed at him then, so torn to pieces, not by the fact that he was abandoning her, but by his hopelessness about her mother’s prognosis. He assumed she was going to die, and while Renee could have forgiven him the abandonment, she could never forgive him that.

She saw something that looked like disappointment cross Marcus’s face when she said she had no time for relationships, but then his warm smile was back, and the exhaustion that was rapidly overtaking her wiped out any urges other than to see David and to sleep for a very long time.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?” Marcus asked, looking like he needed something to do with himself.

“A cup of coffee would be great, if you’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I don’t,” he said, leaning toward her ever so slightly, eyes fixed on her lips. “I don’t mind at all.”

Against all odds she felt herself drawn toward him like he was a magnet and she was a chunk of iron. In the back of her mind she knew she should be immune to this feeling at a time like this. She was terrified, sickened at the thought of what might happen to her brother, but the promise that Marcus’s eyes held was enough to overshadow even the deepest pain. She gazed at his rich dark eyes and licked her lips, a motion that he followed, his expression darkening further, hunger emanating from his entire body.

But at the very moment she felt that pull grow stronger, and she leaned closer, mere millimeters now from his very kissable lips, a voice sounded above them.

“What the hell, Marcus? I told you to take care of her, not take advantage of her.”