A little before seven in the evening, I cleared security, and my car pulled up the private driveway leading to the entrance of the residence.

The fitting had turned into a lot more fun than I’d expected and included three more bottles of champagne. I was a little tipsy, with my senses dulled enough to handle the parental encounter awaiting me inside.

As an only child, I’d always wanted siblings, and my friends had turned into the family I dreamed of having. Those ladies would cut a bitch if anyone fucked with me.

I sighed.

If only Ameera was there, she’d have made it the ideal fitting. I missed her so much and couldn’t stop the worry that constantly plagued me whenever I thought about her, which was often. When the girls had asked about her, I’d made up some excuse, saying she had to finish up a project in South Africa and couldn’t get out of the assignment in time for the wedding. The girls were used to Ameera’s international assignments that kept her out of the country for months at a times, so my excuse was believable. I hated lying, but what else was I supposed to do?

I was at the mercy of her captors, but if given the opportunity, I’d skip my wedding to get her back.

What sucked was that Ameera had only been in Geneva to resign from Solon. I was her North American director but we all reported to the international directing board who were in Geneva, and they required an in-person debriefing when tendering a resignation.

Years of working two time-consuming jobs had taken their toll on her, and she needed a change. One that wouldn’t require espionage and always looking over her shoulder. Her goal was to take over her mother’s fashion house and deal with the temperamental models instead of terrorists.

She’d never made it to her meeting. Instead, five minutes after she’d left her hotel, she was taken by the remaining members of a sleeper group Solon had brought down.

Now it was over three months later, and we still hadn’t gotten her back. I could only hope and pray she was okay.

The car passed over a speed bump, jostling me out of my brooding.

I released a deep breath and pulled out my compact.

Time to get my game face on and ready myself to survive the night.

I could do it. Many people had in-law issues. I could deal with my father-in-law.

The door opened, and I scooted over. Casey offered me his hand as I stepped out.

“Is everyone here?” I asked Casey.

“I received word both families are waiting for you and Mr. Kumar in the Yellow Oval Room.”

Straightening the pleats on my floor-length dress, I glanced toward the gardens. From my angle, I could see the windows of the Oval Office. Ashur would be in his meeting with the House Republicans.

Hopefully, the discussion would go smoothly, and they wouldn’t run over. The last thing I wanted to do was be in a room with Minesh Kumar without Ashur. Minesh had turned my life upside down and ruined any chance of marrying for love.

I should have gotten over the past by now, but it was hard to do when the man took every opportunity to insult me and turn his nose up whenever I was in his vicinity.

I’d held my tongue for the last two years, wanting to keep the peace for Ashur’s and Samina’s sakes. They both had political careers where reporters and potential challengers were looking to find any dirt on their personal lives. Any whiff of my discourse with my father-in-law could lead to people snooping into my background more than they already had, and I had enough on my plate as it was.

“This way, Ms. Zain.”

I studied Casey as I followed him through the entryway of the residence. He wasn’t the only Solon agent I’d seen working in the White House since Ashur took office. Solon had men and women stationed in every government across the globe.

Yes, the organization’s goal sounded idealistic, and maybe it was, but when any government had any say in an organization, there was always bureaucracy to slow things down. And what we did was time sensitive and could mean the difference between life and death. And then there was the fact that we toed the line of legal and illegal means of accomplishing our objectives.

Shit, I had to stop thinking I was still part of Solon. I couldn’t afford the ramifications of anyone finding out what I’d spent my time doing for the last ten years.

A tall, middle-aged, balding man approached Casey. I had never met him before, and I thought I’d met all the staffers. He shuffled back and forth in his too-tight suit, making me think he’d been a few pounds lighter when he’d bought his clothes.

After a few words, he glanced in my direction and then back at Casey. He then pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, dabbed his face, and left without a backward glance.

Whatever Casey said to him had scared the living shit out of him enough that he couldn’t run away fast enough.

“Do I want to know what that was all about?” I asked, seeing a bit of agitation on Casey’s face.

“President Kumar asked that you met him in his office.” He gestured toward a hallway.

Once we cleared the additional security, I said, “It had to be more than just that.”

“He broke procedure, and I informed him if he ever approached you without clearance that Mr. Kumar would hear about it.”

I frowned. “If he dared to touch me, I could break every bone in his pudgy hand before he knew what hit him. Hell, you’re the one who taught me the move.”

“Yes, but no one is supposed to know this. As Secretary Camden said after the meeting, you will need to curb your reflexes. As far as anyone knows, you’ve spent the last few years taking on human rights cases that require hours in the courtroom, not time training to disarm combatants.”

“I hope you’re going to be available at god-awful hours to help me get out the aggression that’s been building up without training.”

“Give me the time and place, and I’ll be there.”

“I will hold you to that, and it may be sooner rather than later.”

As I approached the closed doors of the office, two Secret Service agents nodded their greetings and opened the door.

“Go right in, Ms. Zain.”

I smiled and nearly ran straight into Senator Harrison from Georgia.

“Excuse me, Senator,” I said, trying to steady myself.

He all but glowered at me. “You, young lady, are a terrible influence on him. With Kumar’s approach to policy, I’d viewed him as a conservative in the guise of an independent. But now, with you in the picture, I’m not sure anymore.”

“I believe you give me more credit than I deserve. Ashur is his own man and will do as he sees fit.”

He snorted. “We’ll see.” Then he walked around me and into the hall.

The doors closed, making me jump.

Ashur held a tumbler in his hand and leaned against the wall near his desk, the Resolute Desk.

God. Could the man get any sexier?

He wore a dark gray suit custom made to fill out his very built six-three frame. His almost jet-black hair was cut short and combed neatly. Something I knew went against his natural style but was required as part of his job title. His light brown eyes stared at me in a way that made me think of things that were better left locked down.

This man was too good looking for his own good. No wonder the press loved to comment about him being the “hot president.”

A tingle shot into my core, and I felt the urge to shift my legs in hopes of curbing my need.

Why couldn’t I get my hormones under control when I was around him? I wasn’t the barely legal high school graduate anymore. Dammit, I was thirty-three fucking years old.

The slight curve to his lips told me he’d caught my reaction, but instead of saying anything, he offered me his tumbler. “Want a sip?”

I walked toward him, trying to ignore the cocky grin on his face, took the glass from his fingers, and brought it to my lips before taking a deep gulp of the scotch he preferred, a twenty-five-year-old Macallan.

The potent, over-the-top expensive liquid burned down my throat and gave me something to think about other than the desire I felt for the man next to me.

“What did Harrison say to you?” Ashur picked up a lock of my hair and twirled it around his callused finger.

“He thinks I’m a bad influence. And that my liberal views are rubbing off on you.”

“He’s just mad I sided with the Democrats on a pipeline he wants me to open up. He knew my stance on environmental issues even before the election. He’ll get over it.”

“Your nonchalance is going to get you in trouble. You don’t want the Republicans to close rank when you name your Supreme Court pick.”

“I’ll worry about that later. Like when Justice Bosworth announces her retirement.”

I almost said she wasn’t the only one planning to retire but kept my mouth shut. I’d have to disclose my source, and that would be open up a whole can of worms I wasn’t ready to address.

After a few moments, he said, “You’re good for me, Tara. You don’t let me intimidate you, and you show me points of view that are opposite of mine.”

“Now that is something I never expected to hear from your lips.” I glanced at him, leaned a hip against a table by the window, and folded my arms. “You never give compliments twice in one day. What do you want from me?”

He came closer to me. “Now that’s a loaded question.”

He clasped the tumbler from my fingers, setting it on the windowsill.

Ashur’s gaze perused my body.

“Like what you see, Mr. President?”

“Very much. Though I’d enjoy seeing what’s under the designer outfit even more.”

“Of course, you would,” I responded a little too breathlessly.

And I’d like to lick down those six-pack abs you hide with those expensive suits you wear.

His hand glided along my arm and then settled on my hip.

My breath hitched, and the arousal I’d dulled with the alcohol reignited.

This would be so much easier if I wasn’t crazy attracted to him. In the grand scheme of things, sexual desire for the man one would marry was a requirement. But this wasn’t a normal relationship. It was a bargain wrapped in many strings.

I couldn’t let my attraction cloud my judgment into forgetting this was business.

“Tara.” Ashur’s voice was gruff as he said my name.

“Yes.”

“Sixty-one hours and you’re mine.”

The possessiveness in his statement made my stomach jump. And instead of annoyance at his claim on me, it aroused me.

“I know, Ashur.”

“Ashu.” His fingers flexed on my waist.

I licked my lips. “We’re not lovers yet.”

“You want me as much as I want you.”

I gave a noncommittal hum but my pulse hammered in my ears.

He tilted my chin up with his index finger and leaned down, touching his forehead to mine. “Why have we waited so long? For two years, I’ve wanted nothing more than to get between those thighs of yours and make you scream my name as you came.”

I’d thought of the same thing almost every day. I kept that tidbit to myself. Instead, I said, “You had your hand.”

He lifted his head and peered into my eyes. “My palm is no comparison to your slick hot cunt rippling around my cock.”

My throat dried up, and I swallowed. “Ash…” was all I got out before his mouth came down on mine.

The kiss started gentle, coaxing with soft passes of his lips, completely disarming me. The second I relaxed into the feel of him against me, he grew more demanding. I lost myself in a possessive, mind-blowing kiss. This definitely wasn’t the gentle pecks he’d given me over the last year that had left me wanting, but a claiming, nothing held back, like a volcanic eruption of heat and desire.

How could I have forgotten how he kissed? My body was on fire, and I couldn’t breathe. This man was too damn good at this.

If I didn’t grab control of the situation, it could lead to trouble. But instead of pushing him away I met his demands with my own.

His tongue glided along mine in an intimate dance that made my nipples pebble into hard peaks inside the lace fabric of my bra. I clutched his arms, wanting to get closer to him.

He tasted of Macallen and orange, telling me he’d nibbled on the orange peel in his drink.

He lifted me onto the table, pushed the hem of my dress up and my legs wide, stepping between them. His thick, hard cock molded against my core.

A semblance of sanity hit, and I said, “We can’t do this here.” But then I threaded my fingers into his hair and deepened our embrace.

He sucked my lower lip into his mouth and then bit, making my core contract. “Why not? It’s my office.” His hands gripped my ass, grinding my clit along his length.

I gasped for air. “Because there are cameras everywhere and people could be watching.”

“No one will see us—this is one of the spots in the room that doesn’t have surveillance.” He licked a line down my throat and then nipped my shoulder where it met the neck.

I moaned and arched to give him better access.

His fingers slid between my legs, and he pushed aside my underwear, rimming my soaked pussy.

I cried out, shifting my hips so he could stroke the spot I was desperate for him to touch. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Ashur please.”

He pulled back, making me cry out in frustration.

“Not until you say it.” He licked my essence from his fingers.

“Say what?” I whined.

“Say Ashu.”

I stared into his amber depths, unable to utter a word. Why was it so important to call him by the silly nickname I’d given him when I was eighteen? Why did he need to hear it?

He touched my face with a gentle caress and then, ran a thumb across my lower lip. “You can say it, Tara. I am your lover. I will be the only lover you will have for the rest of your life.”

I opened my mouth to retort but shut it when he lifted a brow daring me to deny his statement.

“Will I be your only lover?” I asked.

“Yes. I don’t cheat. After you left, I can admit I played the field, but know this. I will never break the vows we made to each other.”

The resolve in his voice made my heart ache.

“Ashur, don’t say things like that. Or you’ll have me believing what we have is more than a business arrangement.”

A scowl crossed his face, and he stepped back. My words had broken the spell of the moment.

I slid off the table onto unsteady feet and tugged off my underwear. Thank God my dress was long and no one would know I’d gone commando.

As I reached for my purse, I noticed Ashur watching me. He’d straightened his clothes and now was back to the polished statesman.

He walked over to me, plucked my underwear from my hands, and then tucked it into his jacket pocket.

“Let’s go entertain the ’rents.”

“Are you really going into a family gathering with my thong in your pocket?”

“Yes.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Never pretended otherwise.” He smiled down at me, and my heart skipped a beat. There was a wicked glint in his eyes reminding me of the boy I’d known and not the too-straightforward-for-his-own-good president he was known for being.

He offered me his arm, and we walked out the door.

We stayed quiet, only greeting various staffers as we passed them.

By the time we took the stairs to the upper residence, my stomach was in knots, and any tingle of arousal from our office interlude had disappeared.

“Ashur?” I said as we took the hall leading to the Yellow Oval Room, where our parents waited.

“Yes?” We paused outside the doors.

“Are you sure you want to do this? We could announce we eloped and everyone would go home.”

He looked down at me, tucked a stray hair behind my ear, and said, “Absolutely. You’re the only woman I’ve ever considered marrying, and I can’t wait for you to officially belong to me.”