“What exactly do you mean when you say you’re going to marry my sister?” Dax scratched his head, staring at Roman as though trying to figure out if he was joking or not.

Roman glanced around the large parlor in the East Wing of the White House, hoping for some backup. Dax was making him crazy. He’d tried to explain the new situation to his friend about ten times already.

Dax’s new bride, Holland, slid an arm around her husband’s waist and cuddled close. “I think he’s trying to tell you what everyone else has known for years. He’s in love with Gus. It’s about damn time, Calder.”

It was, in fact, far past time.

Dax frowned. “Is this like an April Fools’ joke no one told me about?”

Roman groaned. “No, but we’re thinking about getting married in April, buddy.”

Gus claimed she needed at least that long to properly plan her wedding. Since he was the reason she’d waited all these years to get hitched, he was willing to give her anything she wanted. The only thing he’d insisted on was that she move in with him the minute they’d gotten back to DC. He’d refused to wait another second to start their lives together.

They’d flown home yesterday morning. He’d had her in his bed that night. And he planned to every night from now on.

Life was looking up.

But this evening was likely going to be a rough one. Zack had asked them all to gather in the parlor, and Roman was almost certain the news wasn’t good. Zack had waited until this afternoon to listen to the tapes, unwilling to chance that anyone could overhear while still in England. How hard had it been for Zack to finish up his meetings with the prime minister as if nothing had happened? Hell, it had even been hard on Roman, but at least he’d had Gus by his side.

Dax nodded. “So you’re going to have a fake wedding then and that’s the April Fools’ joke. I’m going to be honest, I don’t get it.”

Dax seemed determined to play dumb. That or all the Maui sunshine on his honeymoon had damaged his brain. “No. We’re having a very real, very legal wedding next April.”

“And you’re marrying my sister?” Dax said the words slowly, as though they would make more sense that way. “Roman and Augustine. Married. Okay, maybe that’s funny to someone, Roman. But since you’ve never had a sense of humor, I think yours is probably just lame. You should stop with the jokes.”

“Oh, my god, Dax. Stop tormenting him. I’ve already told Mom, and she’s really excited for us.” Gus joined Roman, wrapping her arms around him. “The truth is, Calder and I have been banging off and on since college. I finally agreed to make an honest man of him. Get with the program. Everyone else knew.”

While Dax stood gaping at her, the French doors behind them clicked open. Gabe, Everly, and Lara walked in, all dressed for dinner. Gabe cleaned up nice in his suit, while the ladies looked lovely in their sparkling cocktail dresses. But no one could match his Gus.

Dax frowned as if Roman and Gus’s news was finally sinking. “Gabe, did you know something was going on between Roman and my sister?”

“I know they had a white-hot affair back in the day and Roman’s been bitter about it ever since.” Gabe smiled their way and gave Gus a thumbs-up. “Thanks for letting him crawl back. He’s so much easier to deal with when he’s getting laid.”

“I did not crawl.” Well, not entirely. But he did like the part where he got to sleep with the most beautiful woman in the world every night. It was a definite perk.

Gus winked up at him. “It took him a while, but he learned.”

Yes, he had. He’d learned never to argue with his gorgeous, too-smart-for-him wife-to-be. He leaned over and brushed his lips against hers. “I take my time, but I get it right in the end, baby.”

Dax was back to frowning. “Roman, that’s my sister. Do not kiss her around me. Don’t kiss her at all.”

Gus rolled those pretty eyes of hers. “Maybe he’ll settle down after we’re married. Or have some children. I’m taking the ladies to the next room. I’ve set up appetizers and a bartender. Don’t be too long.”

He took hold of her hand and pulled her closer as Holland started trying to explain to Dax why it was all right for him to kiss Gus. “Hey, you don’t have to leave. Zack wants to talk.”

She gave his hand a squeeze. “I know he does and he’ll feel better if he talks to his best friends first. I don’t have to be in this room to be part of the group. You five need a few minutes. It’s been a long couple of months, and Zack doesn’t have Liz, so he needs you guys more than ever.”

The ones who were left. Gus didn’t mention Mad, but it was as if crazy Crawford was in the room. Hell, he should have been.

“You’re right,” Roman murmured.

“Besides, you’ll tell me everything later, and I’m okay with that.”

He needed her to understand. “I choose you, Augustine. If you want to stay and listen, I’ll keep you by my side or I’ll leave, too.”

Gus flashed him one of those brilliant, world-warming smiles that lit up his days. “And that was all I needed.” She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him. “I love you. Now talk to your friends. I think it’s time to show whoever these Russian assholes are that they can’t mess with the Perfect Gentlemen.”

Oh, but the Russians were messing with them. Whoever had ordered that file clandestinely delivered to Liz’s room back in London definitely had the upper hand. Still, he took her words of encouragement to his heart. “I love you.”

It was so nice to say the words and know what she would say next.

“Love you, too.” She kissed him again, then leaned close, her voice going low. “Any word on the Deep Throat front?”

Gus was obsessed with finding the man. Not the informant, but the mastermind behind them all. She was absolutely certain it was a man—a man they never thought they would see again. He hated to let her down, but she must be wrong. That wasn’t going to happen.

“The private investigator I hired found absolutely nothing to support your theory. He also couldn’t find hide nor hair of the woman you described meeting in the cemetery. I’m sorry. I can keep looking, if you like.” He would hire another investigator and look into it if it made her feel better.

Exhaling a deep breath, she shook her head. “No, he’ll show up when he’s ready. We need to be patient. He’s out there. He has his reasons for the subterfuge, I’m sure. I’m going to have faith.”

He wouldn’t show up at all because he was dead, but Roman wasn’t about to state the obvious to his fiancée. Maddox Crawford was gone, and no conspiracy theory was going to bring him back.

Another click of the doors, then Zack and Connor strolled in.

“That’s my cue to leave,” Gus said. “Take care of him. He looks tired. I’m trying to be patient because I know how hard the last week has been on him, but he needs to start treating Liz better. She wasn’t even invited tonight. I asked if she was coming to dinner and she had no idea what I was talking about.”

He leaned over, letting his forehead rest against hers. “I can’t force him to see the light, baby. I don’t want to hurt Liz, either, but including her in his life has to be Zack’s choice. I’ll talk to him, but I can’t promise anything.”

She sighed, a contented sound. He knew the feeling. Being able to touch her, to connect with her, soothed him, too. They hadn’t stopped being passionate. They still argued, but always with the knowledge that, more than anything, they were passionate about each other.

She straightened up. “Ladies, I’ve got a bartender ready for us next door and some of the most delicious canapés you’ve ever had. Also, the bartender is an aspiring model. He’s got some very funny stories for us.”

The women perked up, laughing and talking as they strode out of the room.

“Model?” Roman asked.

Gus shrugged. “Hey, we’re taken, not blind. You should see what I have planned for our girls’ night out.”

Gabe stared after the women. “Gus is a bad influence.”

Connor put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You hadn’t figured that out yet? She’s a terrible influence, and I’m so glad she’s here with us.”

“Everly and Holland like to shoot people. Lara runs a political tabloid, and Gus eats reporters for breakfast,” Roman pointed out. “We have a type, guys. They’re all troublemakers.”

“I just want something clarified,” Dax said. “Why, exactly, was my sister kissing you? And why would she mention having your children?”

He was going to murder Dax.

“Because she loves him and she’s finally where she belongs,” Zack said. “And I’m very grateful to her for stepping in and handling some of the duties that traditionally belong to the First Lady. I can’t ask Elizabeth anymore. And thank god Gus knows us well. I believe she arranged a very nice bottle of Scotch tonight. I could use a glass.”

His woman was kind. “Gabe, please get a glass for Dax, too. He looks like he needs it.”

Zack addressed Connor. “Are we good on the dead body front?”

Connor took his seat. “Absolutely. I worked with a completely trustworthy London firm, and they even got me dossiers on the two henchmen. Both known associates of the Bratva. No big surprise there.”

“And Kemp? What else do we know about him?” Roman asked.

“I managed to ensure his record will say he died in the line of duty. His body was found outside of the house in London, on the grounds where he was keeping a lone wolf terrorist from reaching the president. It’s all classified, of course, but that’s what we’re telling his family.” Clearly, Connor had been working his ass off. “As for who he took his marching orders from, I’ve got nothing so far. I checked through all of his personal things. I even went through his apartment this morning. His phone and his financials are clean. If he was doing this for money, he hid it impeccably well.”

“Why else would he do it?” Dax asked.

Loyalty. Duty. Honor. Country.

The why wasn’t the question, but rather who. Who could convince a Secret Service agent to chase Russian coverts through England without telling his boss? It would have to be a smooth-talking son of a bitch who’d known how to properly motivate Kemp.

Roman shrugged. “You can guess. We have to consider that Deep Throat will target another agent. He’ll want to stay close to the president.”

Because he seemingly wanted to help.

“And Darcy Hildebrandt?” Zack asked.

“Is of no concern to me.” Connor shot back. “If the Brits knew she was a double agent, they can bite my ass. If they didn’t, then they should have. She flew under the radar. Spies do that. It’s the way the game works. If they find the grave, they’ll discover that she was buried with two known members of the Bratva, and the Brits are smart. They’ll realize someone did their dirty work for them. It’s the way our friendship survives. They help us. We help them.”

Roman was willing to let it go, though Gus still teased him every day that he kind of, sort of dated a double agent who’d tried to kill them. “Then it sounds as if we have cleared up as much as we can from the trip.”

“Yes, especially since I hear there’s a new charity serving the English countryside’s cat population,” Zack said with a sly smile. “The Roman Calder Society for Felines.”

He groaned. “Gus did that. Though she funded it with my cash. She’s already got all my passwords and access to my accounts. Your sister is going to cost me a fortune.”

Dax finally smiled, his face lighting up. “Excellent. Now I feel so much better about you sleeping with her. Wait until you get her bill from Neiman Marcus. That woman loves good shoes.”

He loved how she looked in them. He wouldn’t complain at all as long as she wore them for him when they were alone and she was naked. It was probably best to not say that out loud.

Roman turned to his best friend. “How are you holding up, Zack?”

Gabe started handing out drinks and they all sat. The five of them. There was an empty seat to Connor’s left. A seat that would never be filled again, despite Gus’s conspiracy-filled daydreams.

Zack accepted the drink. “Besides the fact that I gave in to blackmail and should likely be impeached? I’m great.”

“You simply didn’t mention a project that’s years away.” They’d been over this a hundred times. It wasn’t the right time to push back. They didn’t have enough information. They needed to gather more intel before they moved on the forces working against them.

“It’s a slippery slope, and you know it.” Zack took a long swallow. “And now they know they can control me. The good news is I think I know why.”

“You listened to the tapes?” Gabe settled in.

“Of your mother’s sessions while she was in that psychiatric hospital?” Dax asked.

“Yes, I listened to them. So has Connor.” Zack sat back, crossing his right leg over his left. “I asked him because he’s got some experience with psychology.”

Damn straight he did. The CIA had taught him well. Roman was glad Connor had been willing to do it because he certainly hadn’t wanted to listen in. It would hurt too much to hear the pain of a woman he’d known since childhood. He couldn’t imagine what absorbing and analyzing those sessions had done to her son. “What did you find out?”

Zack took a deep breath, as though steadying himself. “My mother talks about accidentally killing a child while she was in Russia. She was drunk one night and she stumbled around. The problem is even when she talks about the incident, she sounds like she’s drunk. She picked up a baby. Her baby. And she dropped him.”

Connor leaned in. “That is not what she said. She said she thought it was her baby. Never once did she confirm the baby was hers, merely that she thought it was. We know there were at least two infants in the house at the time. You and Natalia’s child. She said she was so sorry and she couldn’t ever make it up. I do not believe she killed her own child.”

Zack’s jaw formed a stubborn line. “I think you’re wrong. She accidentally crushed her infant’s skull, and my father knew she couldn’t have another baby. I believe that child, the real Zack Hayes, was switched for Natalia Kuilikov’s son.” He paused. “Me. I’m Sergei and that’s why the Russians think they can use me.”

Roman refused to believe it. “Zack, your mother’s ramblings might not mean anything. Your theory… It’s all supposition. I believe you are Zack Hayes. You were raised to be Zack Hayes. You’re the best man I know.”

“But if I’m correct, I was born on Russian soil of a Russian mother. I’m a Russian citizen,” he replied, his voice softer. “I’m not only ineligible to be president, I’m the ultimate sleeper agent—the one who has no idea he’s in place. I think I should step down immediately.”

“And send the entire country into chaos?” Gabe asked. “Do you know what that would do to the stock market? Your VP isn’t exactly the brightest bulb.”

“That’s why they picked him.” Dax scrubbed a hand over his hair. “Franklin wanted someone he could control easily, but if you step down, the speaker will likely control him, and we all know that son of a bitch doesn’t care about anyone but himself. No. You can’t step down now.”

“This is not a democracy,” Zack said.

Connor laughed. “Of course it is. It has been ever since Mad brought us together and we first voted on whether to study for our chemistry final or sneak out to watch the girls’ school swim practice.”

They had not studied that night.

“He’s right. Let’s vote,” Dax insisted.

“Guys, this is not only dangerous for me, but for you and all your wives,” Zack pleaded.

“I know how my wife would vote,” Gabe said. “Roman, organize this sucker. That’s always been your job.”

Because he’d understood parliamentary procedure at a very young age. “I call for a vote of the Perfect Gentlemen. All for staying the course and standing behind our friend and our president say aye.”

“Aye,” said Gabe.

Connor nodded. “Aye.”

Dax gave his commander in chief a salute. “Aye.”

“Aye.” There was no way Roman would let him step down. “We fight.”

Zack sighed. He sounded tired, but he looked damn relieved to have his friends on his side. “All right then. We fight.”

Roman took a long swig of Scotch and vowed they would do whatever it took to win this fight, come hell or high water.

 

* * * *

 

Zachary Hayes straightened his dress shirt and looked in the mirror. When the hell had he gotten those gray hairs at his temple? They’d seemingly popped up overnight.

I didn’t mean to do it. I wanted to hold him. He was my baby. My sweet baby. I hated what Franklin had planned for him. I wondered if it would be better if I put him out of his misery then and there.

He shivered at the insanity in his mother’s voice. Was that why his father had shoved him in a boarding school? Because he’d been afraid to lose the replacement? How much had he paid Natalia Kuilikov for her baby so he would have a new Zack Hayes?

“Are you ready to go, sir?” Thomas asked.

He depended on the massive Secret Service agent. Thomas had been with him since his first day in office. “Yes. I already sent my bag along.”

“It’s good that you’re taking a weekend to yourself, sir. I can’t remember you relaxing for even an afternoon in years,” Thomas said.

He needed to get away or he might do something he shouldn’t. Couldn’t. But the temptation to wrap his hands around Liz’s graceful throat and strangle her was strong. What else was he supposed to do after discovering that the incriminating e-mails indicating he’d stifled the FAA investigation had come from her office? Her desk. Her laptop. Oh, she’d made a good attempt to cover it up, but she’d been the one to leak critical information to the press. She’d been the one privately communicating with Darcy Hildebrandt. He had proof. Connor had even found an e-mail from Liz telling Darcy that she’d managed to tag Augustine’s phone.

Liz, who had the clearest bluest eyes. Liz, who had always taken such good care of him. Liz, who he dreamed about at night. Liz, the woman he’d yearned for more than any other, even his own wife.

Liz was the snake in the grass. Liz was in bed with the Russians.

How long had she been plotting against him? How long had she been planning to sell him out? Had she done it because she hated him? Because she didn’t care about her country? Because she sought power? Or had she stabbed him in the back simply for the money?

He’d been such a fucking idiot, suckered in by her halo of pale hair, her sweet expressions, and that body he’d kill for.

Hence this trip to Camp David. He intended to get his head right. A guys’ weekend. His best friends and no one else.

Well, except a security detail because he was hardly allowed to use the bathroom without them.

He and Connor would lay out all the details for the rest of their friends. Together, they would help him decide how to deal with the beautiful traitor he’d been in love with for years.

No. He lusted after her. It wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. He didn’t deserve love. Power and money and a father who ranted and raved about his demons, yes. But not love.

“The car is ready when you are,” Thomas said, stepping back out of his room.

How the hell had he gotten here? His problems were pulling his friends away from their wives. Did he have any right to do that? Did he have any right to drag any of them down with his sinking ship?

Hadn’t his ambitions taken enough from all of them already?

He glanced at his cell and thought about calling the whole weekend off. He could shut himself up at Camp David and…

I don’t know anyone at all who broods quite like you, Zack.

He could hear Liz’s soft Southern voice teasing him. She was the one who often pulled him out of his broody moods. She was the one who made him look forward to waking up in the morning. She was certainly the one who’d made him look forward to the future. For so long, he’d been looking forward to formally dating her. After the campaign for his second term, he’d planned to do just that. He’d even thought about how nice it would be to have a White House wedding…and maybe a baby.

Now everything had changed. He was running away so he wouldn’t kill her.

No, he was running away because once Connor had brought the incriminating evidence to him, his first thought had been to drag Liz to his bed and teach her that she couldn’t betray him without consequences. He ached to tie her up and make sure she understood exactly who was in charge and that she would never be allowed to betray her country—or him—again. He’d thought about marrying her so he could remind her every night that she served at the pleasure of the president—and no one else—and always would for the rest of her life.

That would be a terrible mistake.

She was somewhere in the West Wing working with Gus, who thought Zack was the worst human being for mistreating her friend.

He was going to have to tell Gus to be careful of the people to whom she gave her trust.

Zack grabbed his cell phone, then pocketed it. Maybe he should call this weekend off, but he wasn’t going to. He needed this. And he owed his friends. They had elected to fight with and beside him. That meant getting all their ducks in a row before the Russians came at them again. Maybe they’d even mount an offense of their own.

He strode out of his room, nodding at people he passed down the hall. He moved quickly, not wanting to be drawn into conversation. He needed a glass of Scotch and the company of his pack.

Would they still be his friends if the worst about his past and his parentage proved true? Maybe it was silly to worry, but he did.

Thomas waited at the limo. “I’ll be driving you today, sir. And for the record, it’s been a pleasure to serve you. Don’t get the car too bloody.”

“Bloody?” Zack shook his head as he peered inside the open limo door to climb in. “What are you talking about?”

But Zack instantly saw that the backseat wasn’t empty. The lights from the car door illuminated a pair of expensive loafers and designer slacks in the otherwise dark car. Someone was sitting inside his limo.

A chill raced through him. “Thomas?”

“I hope you don’t fire me, sir. But respectfully, I insist you talk to him. It’s time.”

So Thomas was in on this conspiracy, too. He had wolves all around him—the kind in sheep’s clothing. They wouldn’t kill him, not today. They had plans for him, after all…

Better to get this over with. Maybe he would finally find out everything he needed to know. Information would certainly help him decide how best to fight back.

Zack climbed into the limo and sat, then turned to face his enemy, still sitting in shadow.

The outline of the face seemed eerily familiar. The shape of the nose. The piercing color of those eyes.

But that was impossible. Wasn’t it?

“Hey, buddy. Do you have any idea how good it is to be back in civilization? I’m done with the prepper shit, and no matter how hard I tried, there was nothing glamorous about glamping.” Maddox Crawford leaned forward, light shafting across his face. He held a crystal tumbler filled with Scotch and wore a jaunty smile. He looked a little older than he had a few short months ago, before his “funeral.” But he also looked utterly alive. “I’ve been living on freeze-dried crap, and Lara’s friend Freddy makes this rotgut whiskey that’s truly horrible.”

Zack blinked. “Mad?”

“In the flesh and even more handsome than before I died,” Mad shot back with a wink. “I’ve had time to perfect my skin care regime. You need some, buddy. You look like shit. Now let’s get down to business and talk about who’s trying to twist your balls and ruin this country because you have fucked this up terribly.”

Zack stared at his not-dead friend as the car pulled away from the White House. He grabbed Mad’s arm to make sure the guy was actually real. “I can’t believe it’s you. Where have you fucking been? How could you let us think you were dead? Why the hell—”

“I know. I know. But it’s all part of the conversation,” Mad assured. “Settle in. This won’t be easy.”

Zack’s mind whirled with possibilities and implications, but he grabbed a Scotch and sat back to listen. It was going to be an interesting, informative ride.

 

Zack, Liz, and the entire Perfect Gentlemen family (including Mad) will return in AT THE PLEASURE OF THE PRESIDENT in Fall 2018!