After a long shower and a giant cup of coffee, I found myself working in the home office of my townhouse.

I’d tried my damnedest to focus on the list of tasks I had to complete, but Casey’s words kept haunting me and left me in a foul mood.

In love with Ashur, as if.

Ashur and I had become friends over the last year and a half, moving past the anger and heartache of our youth. However, that didn’t mean I was in love with him. And our mutual attraction only indicated that we’d have mind-blowing sex. Nothing more.

I was not in love. I knew better than to fall down that rabbit hole.

I glanced at my ring and sighed.

Who was I kidding? I was fucked. And not just literally. Great, now I was thinking about the dream.

I groaned and pressed my fingertips to my temples.

“Ms. Zain. Your gown has arrived, and the designer wants to make sure it fits.”

I turned my office chair toward my assistant, Eleanor, or Eli as I called her.

She was a slender woman in her late forties with long blond hair and gray eyes. I’d hired her as my assistant eight years ago, right after her husband, a former Solon agent, had died from a heart attack. As a new widow, she was looking for a complete change of career from teaching theater at the University of Washington. Eli understood the lifestyle I lived, having experienced decades of it as an agent’s wife. She also accepted the complexity of managing a public career and having another very secret one.

I’m not sure what I would have done without her. She had a way of keeping me in check, and sometimes I wondered if she knew more about my job than I did.

Thank God she’d agreed to move across the country with me. She was the presence I needed to keep me grounded in this intimidating world I now existed in.

“What gown?”

She typed away on her tablet with a distinct frown on her face. “The one for your first official dinner as the first lady.”

“Oh, God.” I dropped my head onto the desk. “I totally forgot about the fitting.”

The last thing I needed to focus on was a state dinner planned for the week Ashur and I returned from our honeymoon.

I had to get these last-minute tasks completed for my law practice, make sure Tyler was set for as smooth a transition as possible, and double check the details of Ameera’s auction and hopeful rescue. And then there was the fact my body hurt like hell from the beat-down Casey had given me at my insistence. If the pain I felt in my hip was any indication, I’d have a bruise. Shit, now I’d have to explain the mark as Casey predicted I would.

What the hell had I been thinking?

That you needed a distraction from thoughts of jumping the man you’re marrying but shouldn’t want so desperately.

“Can we reschedule? I have too much to do. Plus, I have to get to the last-minute wedding logistics meeting before the rehearsal.”

“No. The designer is here, and it’s better to get it over with. The meeting isn’t for two hours, giving you plenty of time have the fitting and finish up your work.”

I wasn’t going to win this one. No one got between Eli and her agenda.

“Fine. Have them set up in the guest bedroom. It’s the only room not filled with boxes.”

She nodded, stepped out of the room, giving Casey instructions, and then returned in less than two minutes.

“Please tell me you aren’t wearing red to your first official gala as first lady.”

“It was the only thing that looked great on my body and didn’t cost an arm and a leg.”

“You do realize you’re marrying a billionaire? He can afford a high-end gown.”

That was something I didn’t need a reminder of. I was going to use Ashur’s money for more important things. Like freeing Ameera.

“It wouldn’t look appropriate if I wore custom-made haute couture clothing. I won’t have anyone question Ashur’s fiscally conservative stance. Now to respond to the red dress comment. The gown was Jacinta’s and Samina’s idea. They wanted me to distinguish myself from past first ladies. Since I agreed with them, I chose a dress that suited my personality.”

She cocked a hand on her hip and glared at me. “I see your point on the cost and keeping your personal style, but red? Really?”

“Really,” I retorted and then signed a few last-minute account transfer documents Tyler needed. “I like red. I look good in it. End of story.”

“I know when it’s a lost cause.” She used her stylus to check off something on the tablet.

“You know if you keep scowling, your face is going to freeze that way,” I said with a smirk.

Eli could give Attila the Hun a run for his money when it came to annoyed glares.

“I’m charged with keeping your life organized. If you don’t have it together, then it’s my fault.”

“You take your job too seriously.”

“I’m supposed to. There is a huge difference between being your PA in Seattle and managing the first lady’s schedule.”

“I have complete faith in your ability to coordinate my life. You’ll do a much better job than I ever would.”

Eli approached me and then took a seat across from me. Uh-oh, I shouldn’t have said that. Eli may work for me, but she was like a no-nonsense aunt who told it like it was, whether I wanted to hear it or not.

I pushed back from my chair and folded my arms across my body. “Let me have it. You’ve got something on your mind.”

“Are you truly going to give up everything you’ve built in your practice and Solon to become first lady?”

The last thing I wanted to do was give up the job that had given me my identity for all of my adult life, but what choice did I have? I also wanted a child, and I’d never ever put my child knowingly in danger, despite what Mummy believed.

Yes, two children were part of the agreement, but I hadn’t hesitated when Ashur put babies as part of our arrangement. I’d wanted to be a mother but had resigned myself for it never to happen. This was the reason I’d immersed myself in Solon so much that I’d surpassed other agents in rank who’d been at the organization longer. Now that parenting was part of my future, I’d settle for a life I never expected to have happy and healthy kids.

“You know as well as I do that flying all over the world for all my causes isn’t possible anymore.”

“But will you be happy in this new role?”

“I don’t know, Eli.” I sighed. “All I can hope for is that I find a project that can keep my focus without being a liability for Ashur. I’m not polished or sophisticated or well-groomed for the role I’m in. The one project I could have gotten involved in I gave to my predecessor and she’s gone global with the endeavor.”

A little over three years ago, I had been part of a Solon operation focused on stopping an underground ring specializing in the sale of child brides on US soil. This group targeted poor immigrant families from the Middle East and Asia, who were struggling financially and barely living above the poverty line. These parents sold their daughters to wealthy men who were looking for a legal way into the United States. The girls had no choice in what happened to them, and if they refused, they were either thrown out of their homes or physically harmed. These parents viewed the dowry earned more than worth giving up a child to a man who could be five times their age.

My team had flown to Pakistan where some of the girls were being held and bartered for their safe release. I knew when I’d gone in that the men I was meeting with were on the US terror watch list, but my priority had been to free the seventy-plus American girls being held until their “fiancés” could come to get them. I’d negotiated their release, but an American conservative reporter had recognized me from my international casework, taken pictures, and then written a piece about me. It had caused a national stir, and President Edgar had made it his mission to make an example of me. He hadn’t cared that I’d fought to bring back American citizens who were being held in captivity; it had only mattered that he could make an example of me and use it as a platform to campaign for reelection.

Thankfully, Jacinta and Samina had come to my rescue. They’d introduced me to First Lady Amanda Edgar, who was looking for something that distinguished herself from her inflammatory husband and together we created the No Bride Initiative, focused on stopping the epidemic of child brides in America. I never expected Mrs. Edgar to have such a passion for the work, but she had, and now it had become an international organization. And thus, I was left without something that I could grab onto as my lifeline in the political world to which I would never belong.

“You don’t have to fit into the roles other first ladies took on. You can be yourself.”

I gave her my “are you kidding me?” look.

“Listen to what I have to say before you tune me out.”

“Fine. Go ahead.”

“You can still be part of Solon, just not in the field. Nearly all past directors took hands-off behind-the-scenes roles. You’re the only one who has ever taken active field assignments after climbing the ranks.”

“So, you think I can do my first lady duties, have lots of little Kumar babies, and run operations for Solon?”

“Without a doubt. You ran a successful law practice with crazy, high-profile clients, took on pro-bono cases that made international headlines, and had an additional over-the-top demanding career without cracking.”

Well, when she put it that way, why not add a couple of kids, political jockeying, and a sexy-as-sin president to the mix?

Not! Taking all of that on would write me a first-class ticket to Looneyville.

“I think you give me too much credit.”

“I’m only telling you how I see it.”

“It’s too late, even if I wanted to change my mind. I had my resignation meeting two months ago when I joined Ashur on his presidential tour of Europe.”

She set her tablet in front of me and pointed at the document she’d pulled from our secure cloud. “According to your contract, you can rescind any resignation within six months of notification.”

“And how would you know this?”

She lifted a brow. “I read everything that passes over my desk.”

“And?” I folded my arms across my body.

“And today I received a special courier delivery with a rebuttal letter from the board saying they will wait six months before making your resignation official, per your contract. This means you can still change your mind.”

I released a sigh. “You’re like a pit bull with a bone. Fine. I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I ask.” She checked her watch. “Now, time for the fitting you’re determined to avoid.”

I frowned, moved from around my desk, and headed to meet the designer of my gown.