Normally Regent’s Park was a placid ocean of green, and the manor house with its soaring neo-Georgian architecture gave Roman a sense of staid peace. Not today. He stared out an upper-floor window, over the sea of impatient reporters covering the president’s imminent visit to London. The crowd of them was so thick he couldn’t see the damn lawn.

Of course, all those cameras and questions weren’t the only reasons Roman couldn’t find any calm.

“I’m surprised you didn’t go to the airport to meet Zack. You know I truly can hold things down here. Nothing would have burned to the ground.” Gus stared out, her eyes on the crowd rather than him.

She’d refused to look him in the eyes since their arrival. In some women, he would have interpreted her downturned gaze as a form of submission. And he would probably have relished it. With Gus, the lack of visual contact was merely her way of telling him he wasn’t worth her time. All week long, even when they’d been forced to work side by side, she’d made him feel as if there was massive chasm between them.

It was driving Roman insane.

“I didn’t want to fight all that London traffic to the airport. Connor is making sure Zack’s arrival runs smoothly. That gives me a few moments to find some peace and quiet before the storm begins.” Before he could quietly sneak away because all eyes would be on the president.

“Ah, well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” she murmured as she stepped back.

He was so weary of her interpreting every word he said in the worst possible way. “I wasn’t telling you to leave. I was answering your question.”

She stopped, turning on those ridiculously sexy heels he would swear she wore twenty-four seven. Even when she dressed down, those red-soled shoes would poke out from the hem of her jeans and make her legs look a million miles long. It was even worse when she paired those stilettos with shorts so teeny-tiny they should be outlawed. When she wore them, Roman couldn’t think straight.

“But you’re after peace, and we all know I’m not conducive to that.” Her lips turned down in a frown, but she was still one of the most gorgeous women he’d ever seen.

She also looked at home amidst all the luxury. Normally the president would stay at Winfield House, but it was under renovations so they’d been offered this jewel of a mansion in the heart of London. He could practically see Augustine in one of those Victorian gowns, all buttoned up and proper, like her name. But he knew how hot she could get underneath that prim exterior. Lately, he’d been wondering if he could make her hot again. If he could melt the ice between them.

Dangerous thoughts.

“That’s not true. Do you think I don’t see all the effort you put in to make everything run without a hitch? You’ve worked your ass off all week so that Zack will be comfortable when he gets here. I know that.” Did she think he didn’t see her at all?

“Ah, but I didn’t do that for Zack.”

Of course not. Zack might be the authority figure, but technically that wasn’t who Gus worked for. “You did it for Liz.”

Her hair was piled on her head in a perfectly mussed bun. On other women it might look messy, but the soft tendrils perfectly framed her face, drawing attention to her eyes and those bee-stung lips. “Yes. She’s my boss. I did my job. Don’t think it was anything more than that.”

Why did she have to play the tough chick around him? If any realization had come out of the last few months of secrets and lies and death, it was that he missed Augustine. He missed her in bed, missed the passion that had once been a conflagration between them, but most of all, he missed her friendship. He knew they weren’t good together in the long term, but were either of them looking for forever? They were married to their jobs. “So you watching after Lara was just your job? You taking on the Number 10 chef was your job?”

Number 10 was the colloquial term for Number 10 Downing Street, the residence of the prime minister of Great Britain. They’d been in and out of Number 10 several times for preliminary meetings and to ensure that everything was ready for the president’s visit. Naturally Gus had made friends. If by friends, one meant someone powerful who wanted to murder her.

Her jaw firmed and she pointed a finger his way. “That fucking chef made one of my girls cry for asking if she could get some ranch dressing on the side. I get it. He’s some kind of wizard with twenty culinary degrees, but the girl only wanted some damn dip. Pretentious ass.” She took a deep breath. “Did you have to deal with the aftermath? I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t think about the fact that the prime minister might get involved.”

The chef had been caught shouting at one of the aides and threatening to quit if she wasn’t shown off the premises. Watching Gus put the incredibly rude man in his place had gotten his dick hard. Seeing her put an arm around the thirty-year-old Harvard grad she called one of her “girls” had softened up his…did he have a heart? Oh, he knew he had one in the physical sense. He had a whole report from his physician on how his dietary habits would kill his heart someday. But did he have one that felt things?

Roman shook his head. “I told the prime minister that we would bring our own ranch next time if it was too much trouble to stock his pantry with his guests’ preferences. It wasn’t his fault, per se, but he needs to understand I won’t see any member of our staff treated that poorly, even by a celebrity chef.”

Her lips turned up from a frown to a sexy-as-hell smirk. “I wish I could have seen that. And thanks for backing me up. You know how I get when I see an injustice done.”

She couldn’t allow it to pass. She had to fight, not only for herself but for those around her. Augustine, The Ice Queen. “I know.” He glanced down at his watch and sighed. “In another ten minutes, Zack will arrive. And the world around us will explode.”

She grinned, the first real, honest smile she’d given him in years. That expression kicked him in the gut. “Oh, it might explode in more ways than you know. Mommy and Daddy are still fighting.”

“What? Zack claims that everything is fine. Did something happen that I’m unaware of?”

Gus moved into his space, her hand wrapping around his tie. “Hang on. You’ve got this knotted wrong. It’s too short for this suit. Can’t have the great Roman Calder looking less than perfect.”

Yes, there was his heart. It was thudding in his chest because she was touching him for the first time in years. Gus was always careful. Even when they worked together long into the night, she made a concerted effort to keep distance between them. Now she moved in close and he could feel the brush of her breasts against his chest as she righted his tie.

“What’s happening with Zack and Liz?” he reiterated, staying perfectly still under Gus’s hands. He didn’t want to give her any reason to stop. Being so close to her, he could feel the heat of her body, smell the delicate scent of citrus that clung to her. Desire warmed his blood.

She twisted the tie with an expert hand. “Well, after years of flirtation your boy suddenly decided that he no longer wanted my girl. It’s like getting dumped—and hard—when you least expect it, and you didn’t even get the fun stuff that might have made the upset worthwhile.”

Roman had to defend his best friend. He also had to keep up the pretense to prevent Gus from guessing the real reason Zack had put distance between him and his press secretary. “I’m sorry Liz is hurt, but I doubt Zack meant to make her feel as if their relationship was anything more than professional. I should probably be less surprised that Liz developed feelings for him. Zack has a certain charm, I suppose, and I know many women view him as a challenge. Still, for him they’ve always shared a strictly working rapport.”

Her hands didn’t stop working, but her eyes suddenly lifted, met his. Roman worried Gus could see right through him.

“Really? I find that interesting since I’ve watched them together for the last few years. He tends to her as often as she does to him. But then I suppose my instincts aren’t the best when it comes to the Perfect Gentlemen.” She released his tie and tried to step back.

Gritting his teeth, Roman caught her hands gently in his. “It’s not the same, Augustine. What’s happening between Zack and Liz is nothing like what happened between us. Zack’s never touched her. Don’t paint him with the same brush. He’s not a bad guy.”

“But you are? Somehow, I don’t think you see things that way.”

He knew he should let her go, knew touching her, being this close, was dangerous, but he couldn’t force himself to step back. For the first time in thirteen years, she was looking at him. She was giving him an opportunity to explain himself.

Had he been waiting all these years to do exactly that? He’d tried to call her over and over after that night. She’d changed her number, and he’d convinced himself it was for the best. The very next time he’d seen her, she’d been so cold that he’d sworn the memories of her warm smiles and hot embraces couldn’t possibly have been real. He’d let more than a dozen years slide by since then. He thought he’d gotten over their affair. He’d even convinced himself that he’d fallen for another woman. Later, he’d pondered marriage. Having a family had actually crossed his mind once or twice. Inevitable as he’d gotten older, he supposed. Maybe parenting wouldn’t be so terrible. Maybe he’d matured enough to be a decent father. Roman didn’t know.

What he knew for damn sure was that he was right back here with Augustine. Full circle.

“I see myself as the man who hurt you when I didn’t mean to.”

She backed away, ending the contact with a laugh that didn’t sound even vaguely happy. “Roman, that was forever ago. I don’t think about it.”

That was his cue to puff up and toss back the “fact” that he thought about her even less. At least that’s what he would have done in the past. Before Joy died. Before they’d lost Mad. Somehow enduring all that, knowing that life guaranteed no tomorrows, had made him less combative. “I think about it a lot. All the time lately.”

Her eyes flared, a sure sign he’d surprised her. It was good to know he could still do that. “Why?”

He moved in again, like a moth to her never-ending flame. “I suppose I feel the years weigh on me. I never meant to hurt you.”

She wouldn’t quite meet his gaze. “It’s okay. I was fine.”

But now that he was standing so close, Roman saw plainly that wasn’t true. She hadn’t been all right then and her armor was even stronger now. “Gus, we were so young. Definitely ambitious. If we’d tried anything more permanent, I’m sure it would have been a disaster. We weren’t ready for commitment.”

A single, perfectly manicured eyebrow arched up. “We?”

He sensed the danger, but didn’t know how to avoid stepping in it. “Yes, Augustine. We had no idea what we were doing. But we had fun and learned a lot. In the long run, no one honestly got hurt. At that age, feelings mend easily, right? So shouldn’t we forgive ourselves for whatever mistakes we made and move on?”

She pulled away, her whole demeanor turning chilly. “Sure. No one got hurt. All is forgiven. Consider me moved on.”

Frustration welled, sharp and unexpected. “What did I say wrong now?”

Her face went blank, smoothing into the same impersonal expression he’d seen for the last thirteen years. “Nothing at all. The past is in the past, and we should leave it there. But now I should make sure the sitting room is ready for Liz. I’m sure she’ll need some quiet time after all that press. Oh, I meant to ask… Is Zack bringing a date? He’s got a lot of appearances planned. Lately, he shows up for every occasion with some bimbo on his arm.”

Roman saw two things clearly: he wasn’t forgiven, and the past wasn’t just an ancient memory. “He’s not seeing other people to hurt Liz.”

“And yet, he’s managing to do so beautifully. But then he learned from the best.”

He could feel his frustration simmering. At her tight, acidic smile, it bubbled and spilled over into anger. “What is that supposed to mean? Damn it, Gus. In one breath, you tell me you’re over everything that happened between us, then the next you throw our past back in my face. Which is it? What do you want from me?”

“The truth would be nice,” she shot back. “If Zack only cares about Liz professionally, why won’t he let her quit? Maybe she has other opportunities she’d like to explore.”

“That’s between the two of them.”

She stepped in his path again, ready to fight. “No, it isn’t. That play has Roman Calder written all over it. You think I don’t know your moves?”

“I get blamed for everything, don’t I? Everything that goes wrong, every nasty political move, you lay all that at my feet. In your eyes, no one else could possibly be as bad as me. But you’re totally over what happened between us.”

“I am. I don’t care about you. I don’t think about you.”

She was a liar. The stubborn tilt of her head all but shouted that her bravado was an act—one he’d believed for years. “Is that right?”

“Not unless it’s work, and then I’m usually trying to get through it so I don’t have to deal with you.”

He moved closer, knowing damn well she wouldn’t back up. That wasn’t how Augustine operated. No retreats for her. She would hold her ground until the bitter end.

Awareness flared through him at the light in her eyes. “Never? You haven’t once stopped to remember how good we were together?”

“I’m good with a lot of men,” she shot back.

No one ever challenged him the way she did. She got his blood pumping in a way it hadn’t in well over a decade. In the past, this kind of anticipation had been reserved for election night, but fighting with Gus right before he shoved her on the bed to begin the real battle ranked right up there. He remembered.

Roman loomed over her. “Oh, I think you forget how I could make you scream my name, baby.”

“I don’t forget anything, Calder. It’s just that nothing between us was particularly worth remembering,” she replied, her head tilting back to maintain their eye contact. Her shoulders squared and he could practically hear her growl. “In fact, neither were you.”

The barb hurt, but that was her anger talking. Roman let it go. “Then let me show you all over again.”

He slid a hand behind her neck, giving her precious seconds to oppose him. If she said no, he might be able to walk away. It would kill him, but he’d do it.

“This won’t change a thing,” she whispered, her face guarded.

But he saw the anticipation gleaming in her eyes.

Roman held in his shock. Her reply was not a no. She didn’t hate the thought of him touching her.

That was all he’d needed to hear. The time for talk was done. Not recognizing those moments in the past had been his mistake. Talking had never been their strong suit, but this… Oh, this had been everything. He could feel her body pressing against his as though she couldn’t quite help herself. As though she felt the same magnetic pull.

Breath held, he lowered his mouth to hers, ready to taste her for the first time in well over a decade.

“Roman? Roman, are you in there?”

Gus stepped back quickly, her face flushed as she turned toward the door that led to the hallway. The French doors opened, and Darcy Hildebrandt strode in.

The attaché to the prime minister was lovely and young as she smiled his way. She was wearing a perfectly respectable but feminine business suit, her blonde hair artfully styled. She had a charming upper-crust British accent and the worst timing in the world.

She ignored Gus altogether and strode right to him, hands outstretched in welcome. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Good morning, Roman. You look completely dashing.”

She moved into his personal space, offering her cheek.

He tilted his body away, pecking her lightly and wishing he didn’t have to deal with all the European affectations. He had a stupid erection because whenever Augustine was around his dick stood and saluted. “Sorry. I was trying to have a few moments of peace and quiet before the president arrives.”

She stepped back. “Well, I’m sorry you were interrupted, then.” She finally turned toward Gus. “Is there something I can help you with, Ms. Spencer? Mr. Calder’s job is extremely important. We should give him this time alone so he can be rested when the president needs him.”

“Wow, did you also earn a master’s of kiss assery while you attended Oxford?” Gus asked.

Yep. There was the Augustine he knew and admired the hell out of.

Roman moved into damage repair mode. Darcy was sweet—and no match at all for Gus. Maybe he’d been too relaxed about letting the pretty Brit flirt with him. She’d seemed like a balm to his ego, but he certainly wasn’t going to shift their relationship from professional to personal. “Augustine, you mentioned something about making sure there was tea served in the ladies’ parlor?”

“Nope. I didn’t mention tea at all,” Gus replied. “But I’ve got a full bar in there. After six hours on a plane with Zack, Liz is going to need a drink. In fact, I think we all are.” She glanced down at her phone. “And they’re pulling in. I’ll go and greet them in the drive. You and Darcy can have the room.”

She strode out as if she didn’t care whether she saw him again.

Damn it.

Darcy frowned up at him, lingering entirely too close for his comfort. “Your tie is all wrong. It’s far more fashionable to wear it a bit shorter now.”

She started to reach for it, but he caught her hands. “I prefer it as is.”

He didn’t care, honestly, but Gus had fixed his tie the way she wanted it. He wouldn’t let someone else change it. Not that she was paying any attention to him at the moment. Instead, he turned to see her walking out to the drive.

“Of course. You look smashing either way. Shall I go and fix the ladies’ parlor, then? It won’t take a moment. I’ve seen to the president’s library myself. You have appetizers and a fully stocked bar. I’ll switch the ladies to a lovely high tea. We wouldn’t want the gossip to get out that the women in the American party are less than ladylike.”

What the hell did that mean? “I think you should leave the ladies to Augustine. Dear god, don’t take their booze. They’ll come after ours.” He switched topics, letting her know this one was closed. “I’m rethinking tonight’s gathering. Maybe we should have a single greeting party and host it here. All of us together.”

She wrinkled her nose and put her hand on his arm as he started outside. He suspected Darcy had read one too many Jane Austen novels. She had very Victorian ideas about how women should behave. It wasn’t a representation of most of the British ladies he knew. At first, he’d found her approach rather cultured. Interesting, even. Now it bugged the hell out of him.

“Perhaps we should discuss that at length,” she argued. “Oh, and you asked for theater tickets. I reserved a box at one of the West End’s most historic theaters. It’s good publicity. There will be six of us. The prime minster and his wife, the president and his date, and you. I’ll come along to ensure everything runs properly and to handle the press on our end. I know them quite well. I thought that since you don’t have a date, my idea would be most logical. The arrangement would be all work, of course, but leaving that seat open seemed a bit sad.”

He shook his head. “I’ll let Gabe and his wife go.”

“Oh, no. I’ve let everyone know to expect Roman Calder. You must go.”

Damn it. One of the reasons he had insisted that the other couples come along was to give him some cover. And for a visit. It had also been an awfully long time since they’d all been together for more than a few hours.

Roman opened the door, holding it for her like a gentleman. “I’m sure the prime minister will find Gabe and Everly charming.”

She looked back at him, tears glimmering in her eyes. “I promised him you would come.” She stopped and visibly shook off her sadness, discreetly wiping her eyes. “But I’m sure it will be all right. He can be a demanding man, but I’ll make him see reason.”

Or the PM might fire her because she’d vowed to deliver time with the president and his right hand. The last thing he needed to deal with from Darcy was an anxiety attack. “All right. I’ll go.”

Her smile turned brilliant and she reached for his arm again as they strolled into the anemic London sunlight. “Excellent. We’ll have a lovely time. I’ve got the prettiest dress. I’ll ring Mimi to make certain we won’t clash. We can’t have that when we’re arm candy for two of the most powerful men in the world.”

“Mimi? The British model?” Gus asked. “The one who’s far too skinny to even manage carrying a last name? That’s who Zack’s dating now?”

If Darcy heard the sarcasm in Gus’s voice, she didn’t show it. She simply smiled and squeezed his arm. “Yes, she’s quite lovely. She and the president will make the most stunning couple. But Roman and I won’t be far behind. I’ll go and talk to the housekeeper now, darling. Don’t worry. I’ll make certain everything is exactly the way you like it.”

She turned on her heels and hurried away.

Gus stared at him, looking all but ready to roll her eyes.

“It’s not a date.”

Her gaze slid away as the big black SUV pulled up. Suddenly they were surrounded by men in black suits. The Secret Service was damn good at keeping a low profile until the moment they were needed. Every square inch of the big manor home they were staying in had been checked and rechecked, security on high alert for this visit.

Flashes began flaring the moment the door opened. As a second SUV stopped behind the first, Zack stepped out, buttoning his suit coat and waving at the crowd. He looked cool and collected, nodding toward the reporters even as he completely ignored their shouted questions. Surprisingly, he moved around the SUV and stood stoically as Liz emerged, his hand outstretched to help her down.

“What is he doing?” They’d talked about this. Liz was supposed to ride in the second SUV, staying as inconspicuous and removed from the president as possible. Gabe and Connor were meant to occupy the lead car with Zack.

Gus’s lips turned up in a smile. “Something right for once in his life.”

Zack helped Liz down, one hand steadying hers and the other on the small of her back. She tried to pull away the second she stood on solid ground.

What the hell was going on? Gabe and Connor were smiling and waving to the crowd, obviously providing cover. But why?

Liz started up the stairs and stumbled. Zack caught her, helping her back up and whispering something in her ear. Liz’s whole body stiffened but she allowed Zack to hustle her inside the house.

Roman looked over at Gus. Her face didn’t show it exactly but he knew her well enough to realize she was as surprised as he felt. In silent answer, she shook her head. She had no damn idea what was going on either. As they followed the party, Roman gave her a little shrug, holding the door open for her.

“Don’t touch me again.” Liz turned on Zack, her normally perfect blonde hair mussed.

Zack’s face was a mask of frustration as he faced her down. “If you don’t want me to touch you, then how about you stay away from the vodka, baby?”

Zack was always calm. Always cool. Holy shit.

“Holy shit,” Gus said under her breath.

Yes, they always had been in sync.

Liz bent over, pulling off her high heels. “I’m not drunk, you asshole. You try walking around in five-inch heels!”

Liz drew her hand back and Gus went into action.

“Nope, we’re not taking our frustration out on the Louboutins. They are innocent.” Gus looked back at Zack. “Unlike you.”

Zack seemed to deflate. “Gus, I…”

She was already turning her boss toward the east wing where she’d set up the ladies’ parlor, one palm held in his direction. “Talk to the hand, Mr. President.”

Yep, there was his Augustine. Proper when she needed to be…but otherwise quick to send a guy her proverbial middle finger.

Once the two ladies were gone, Roman turned to Zack. “What the fuck?”

Zack held up his hands. “You do not want to know. Where is the Scotch?”

The door opened again and the rest of the party streamed in.

“She had no right to say those things,” Gabe muttered.

“Oh, really?” Everly faced off with her husband. “After everything he’s done? Screw you, Gabe.”

When she turned and flounced out of the room after Gus and Liz, Gabe shook his head, looking incredulous. “I don’t get why she’s so angry. Everly knows why Zack has to distance himself from Liz.”

Lara stood next to Connor, her eyes wide. She looked down the long hall as the other women walked away.

Zack turned to the only remaining female in the room. “Lara, you talked to Liz. Could you please tell me what’s going through her head? And Gus. I know Gus is planning something.”

Lara’s lips formed a stubborn line.

Connor put a hand on his wife’s hair. “Princess, it’s okay. You’re helping your friends by talking to us. We simply want to make sure they’re all right.”

Connor was high if he thought that woman was going to talk.

Lara broke away. “I’m so sorry, babe. Down with the patriarchy!”

Lara turned and jogged after her friends.

“I told you. Augustine is a terrible influence,” Roman reminded. “We’re damn lucky Dax took Holland on a honeymoon to that bed and breakfast in Maui or she would be right there with the other women. Lara’s lost to the dark side now. Accept it and move on, buddy. No one’s getting any tonight.” He put a hand on Zack’s shoulder. “Let’s get you a drink and catch you up. I think we’ll be safe in the study.”

“Call it what it really is. The doghouse. We’re all sharing it,” Zack pointed out. “I’m the most powerful man in the freaking world and one blonde can still make me tuck my tail between my legs.”

Roman leaned in. “Well, you wanted to know what it’s like when a woman knocks you on your ass. This is it.”

Zack marched to the study, holding up his middle finger and muttering how badly he needed a drink.

Roman sighed and prayed they would all survive the next few days.