Home > Rich Man's Fake Fiancee (The Landis Brothers #1)(12)

Rich Man's Fake Fiancee (The Landis Brothers #1)(12)
Author: Catherine Mann

“Just do your job.” Matthew’s voice took on that renowned Landis icy tone. “If you have anything more to say on this subject, we can take it up at headquarters later.”

“You’re the boss.” Brent shoved away from the rail and walked away with his companion.

Matthew narrowed his eyes at the retreating man, then turned back to Ashley. “Did he say something to upset you?”

“Nothing. Really. Everything’s fine.”

Matthew brushed a thumb over her cheekbone, glancing around much like Brent when he’d checked to be sure no one could overhear. “You look tired. You’ve got dark circles under your eyes.”

His words, too close to Brent’s concerns, pissed her off when her emotions were already raw. She wasn’t a weakling, damn it. “What a smooth talker you are.”

“Beautiful—but tired. I realize campaigning can be a grind.” He stepped away, taking her drink from her and placing it on a deck table alongside his. “We’re leaving now.”

“You can’t go.” She looked around at the people still dancing on the upper deck. “This is your party.”

“I most certainly can punch out whenever I want. We’ve docked. Others are disembarking. I learned a while back if I stay

’til lights out at every function I’m on hand when the party turns wild and that never goes well for a politician come picture time.”

When he put it that way…. She tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. “Well, by all means then, let’s blow this pop stand before Mrs. Hamilton-Reis hangs her bra in place of the flag.”

Chuckling, he shuddered. “Thanks for placing that image in my mind.”

“Always happy to please.”

His eyes narrowed. “You do please me, you know. Very much, Ashley Carson.” He dipped his head and brushed his mouth along her ear. “I’m so very sorry I messed things up for the chance to please you again.”

His words sent a thrill of excitement and power up her spine. Sure, Brent Davis’s years of political wisdom attested to reasons she wasn’t the wisest choice to stand by Matthew’s side, at least for tonight, she could have one more memory to tuck away.

And she intended to make the most of it.

Strolling along the private shoreline outside his home with Ashley, Matthew wondered if he’d pushed too hard too fast by saying something suggestive to Ashley on the boat. He wanted an affair with her, but he already sensed they wouldn’t have much time. She would cut and run from his lifestyle soon enough, without a doubt.

But all the touching and kissing for the camera was playing hell with his libido. He’d suggested this barefoot walk alone along the shore to cool them both down before they turned in for the night. A long night. Likely alone, because as much as he wanted her, she would have to set the pace this time.

Ashley kicked her way through the rolling surf, her gold shawl billowing behind her in the breeze. Creamy white fabric with its tantalizing glimmers of gold stitching molded to her chest the way he wanted to fit his palms against her curves.

Gathering the hem of her gown up to her knees, she shot ahead a couple of paces before spinning on her bare feet to face him, her loose hair streaking around her face. “What did you dress up as for Halloween as a kid?”

Her question blindsided him more than anything he’d heard from the most seasoned reporter. Of course that could also have something to do with his lust-fogged brain at the moment. “Excuse me? I’m accustomed to obscure questions from the press, but that one came way out of left field.”

“Then I guess it’s an excellent question.” Her gentle laugh carried on the salty breeze as light as any meringue, simple, but damn fine. “It just struck me over the past couple of days that we really don’t know that much about each other. Those holes in our knowledge could be a real pitfall in an interview. So? What about your childhood holidays?”

He thought back to all those pictures in his mother’s countless family photo albums. “A cop. I trick-or-treated as a cop.”

“And?”

Matthew shook his head, his shoes dangling from his fingers. Water slapped at the dock where the family speedboat bucked with each wave. “Always a policeman for Halloween. Drove my mom nuts. She really got into making us new costumes each year and I kept asking for the same one, just in a bigger size.”

“If you wanted to be a police officer, what made you want to go into politics?”

“Who said I wanted to be a cop as an adult? Just because I dressed up like one as a kid doesn’t mean…” He scratched his head. “Okay, never mind. Fair question. Politics is the family business. It’s only natural I would follow this path.”

“Your father was in the Air Force before becoming a senator.” She scraped her hair back from her face. “And your brothers chose different paths.”

“That they did.” He thought back to their childhood years, putting on costumes in preparation for the day they would be able to play out their dreams for real. “We’re looking for ways to serve our country.”

“You could have done that on the police force.”

“My father died.”

She slowed to fall in pace alongside him. Not touching, just there. More present in the moment than most people who got right up in somebody’s face. “That must have been an awful time for you.”

“He didn’t get to complete his term.” There was something so damn sad about unfinished business—his father’s term, his old fiancée’s diploma never picked up.

An engagement never fulfilled with vows.

“Your mother served out his term, and very well I might add. Life has a way of working things out, even the bad things, given time.”

“You’re right.” He needed to remember that more often and concentrate on his own reasons for taking on this office rather than doing it for anyone else. Interesting how Ashley focused him with a few words.

And hell, what was he doing selfishly spilling his guts when he was standing under the stars with a beautiful woman? She turned attention to others so artfully he wondered how many missed the chance to uncover fascinating things about her.

He tipped her chin. “What about you?”

“What about me what?”

“Your Halloween costumes.” He walked alongside her, smiling down and trying to envision her as a kid, probably skinny with hair that weighed more than she did. And a heart bigger than all of that combined. “What did you pick, and I want a list.”

“A pirate, a zebra, a hobo, a ninja, Cleopatra—the fake snake was tons of fun.” She clicked off the years on her fingers. “A doctor, oh, and once I was a pack of French fries. Starr was a hot dog and Claire insisted she was a gourmet quiche, but we all knew it was a pecan pie with fake bacon bits sewn on.”

“Wow, your foster mom organized that for all her kids?” Did Ashley realize she was walking closer to him?

Her arm skimmed his.

Her leg brushed his with every step.

Was she trying to seduce him, for God’s sake?

“Aunt Libby had this huge box full of old costumes and clothes. She was constantly adding items to it throughout the year—picking up additions on clearance or from yard sales.” She looked up at him, her brown eyes the perfect backdrop to reflect the stars overhead. “Actually, we didn’t only use it for Halloween. We played dress-up year round.”

“I’d enjoy seeing pictures of that.”

Her smile faded. “If they survived the fire.”

He slid an arm around her shoulders and tucked her to his side, holding her closer when she didn’t object. “Tell me more about the dress-up games.”

“We made quite a theatrical troop with our play acting. We could be anything, say anything and leave the world behind once those costumes were in place. Looking back, I can see how she must have been using some play therapy for a group of wounded girls.”

“She sounds like an amazing lady.”

“She was. I miss her a lot.” Ashley stared up at him with far-too-insightful starlit eyes. “The way you must miss your father.”

He tried to clear his throat but the lump swelled to fist-size and wouldn’t dislodge.

Ashley slipped her arm under his jacket and around his waist. “That’s why you’re in politics then, to feel closer to him?”

Her touch seemed to deflate the lump and he found himself able to push words free again. “That’s why I started, yes, and then I found out along the way why it was so important to him. It’s not about power. And sure the chance to make a difference at a grass-roots level is…mind-blowing. But there’s more to it.”

“And that would be?”

“Honestly, this has gotten to be such a dirty business no sane person would even want to enter a race. Between the sound-bite hungry press and cutthroat opponents, no one can possibly lead a life clean or perfect enough to undergo that level of scrutiny.

There will be blood in the water at some point and sharks will circle.”

“Okay, you’re really depressing me here, so how about getting to the point soon.”

He chuckled low, the crash of waves stealing the sand from under his feet. “Right. Gotta work on paring down my stump-speech skills. My point? I can’t let fear keep me out of the race.”

“Good people have to step up to the plate, too.”

“Thanks.” He gave her a one-armed hug.

“For what?”

“For calling me ‘good people.’” And damned if that simple hug hadn’t pressed her breast against his side, which had him thinking decidedly un-good-guy thoughts about seducing her right here. Right now. Behind the nearest sand dune.

She stopped, dropping her shoes onto the sand, then taking his and tossing them aside, as well. She clasped both of his hands in hers. “You’ve been worried about our engagement fib.”

He stayed silent for three swooshes of the waves.

She squeezed his fingers. “Doing the wrong thing for all the right reasons is tough to reconcile. I know. I’ve been wrestling with the same issue.”

“What conclusion did you arrive at?”

“Good people are also fallible humans. Sometimes we deserve a break, even if it’s only a temporary reprieve.”

He skimmed his knuckles over the ivory clear and soft skin of her face, over her chin, down her neck. She gazed up at him, her eyes so deep and darkening as her pupils expanded.

If he let himself, he could fall…right…in.

He kissed her. He had to. The past couple of days they’d been dancing around this moment and he knew the solid reasons why he should wait to pursue the attraction, give her time, romance her more. But here, tonight, under the stars, he wanted her and he could feel that she wanted him, too, from the way she wriggled to get closer. He couldn’t sense even the least bit of hesitation in her response.

Her breathy sigh into his mouth reminded him of other times she’d gasped out her pleasure. This usually shy woman certainly tossed away her inhibitions when it came to the sensual.

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