It gave them time to draw up their own. The closer they could stay to the truth, the better. He didn’t trust the senator and his team with anything too elaborate.
‘There,’ he murmured when he saw a reporter he recognised. Perfect. The correspondent was about to interview Gunderson right on the Capitol steps.
Moving back into the shadows of a cherry blossom tree, Brody watched and waited. He was far enough away that he couldn’t hear, but he could read body language. The reporter approached, and Samuel began talking earnestly. Whatever the senator’s failings, this was where he excelled. When that man looked into a camera, he connected with people.
And…there was the bandage. The cameraman moved in close when Gunderson pulled back his sleeve for all to see.
‘Nice,’ Brody murmured. He watched the aides for any sign of nervousness. The guy in the bowtie was solid, but the woman looked concerned. That was OK. It worked.
They just couldn’t let the discussion go on for long. They could not get too deep into the issue of Genieve.
A jogger sprinted past, and Brody moved over to a nearby bench. He leaned against it and tapped his fingers against the wooden back. The story of those two being a couple just didn’t ring true. Even if nobody ever found out she was a paid escort, there was the age difference. The senator’s female constituents didn’t like their sexy senior senator dating someone half his age, even if the men were impressed. Genieve was too bright a flame. Anyone would question why she was with him. At best, she’d be labelled a gold-digger.
The two just didn’t fit, contract or not.
At least that was the conclusion Brody had come up with, some time as the sun had been coming up. The kiss had nothing to do with it.
Nothing and everything.
He tried to ignore the tingle in his lips, but he rubbed them together anyway. They’d been doing that on and off ever since she’d moved in and planted one on him. He remembered the feel of her, the humid air pouring out of the bathroom, and the scent of clean, beautiful woman. His lungs expanded, and he blew out a breath that was more winded than the jogger who’d just passed.
Why had she done that? She’d been half asleep, he knew. Had she even known who he was? Or was it habit? That possibility was like an elbow to the gut, but it hadn’t stopped him kissing her back – right after his brain had kicked back into gear.
Which it needed to do right now.
Realising he’d become distracted, Brody reached up to adjust his sunglasses. It was a sign to the senator’s aide to get things moving along, but just then Gunderson tapped the reporter on the shoulder and shook his hand. It looked like things were winding up on their own as the senator and his troupe began marching again up the Capitol steps.
Brody watched until they made it all the way inside without any more reporters swooping in. He rapped his knuckles against the wooden bench and moved along, too. The first phase of his plan had gone well.
Now he just had to catch up with two novice reporters and let them know just how unwise it would be to continue spreading unfounded rumours with charges already hanging over their heads. It hadn’t taken much digging to discover one had a Peeping Tom conviction from his college days. Something about the girls’ shower…The other had a mother who worked at a bump-and-grind in a questionable area downtown. It didn’t matter if she just served drinks. He could spin that.
Brody straightened his tie and slid his hands into his pockets as he headed to the Metro entrance. As tired and ill-tempered as he was, he had no doubt Phase Two would be any different. For Jenny’s sake, he wouldn’t let it.
Genieve was disoriented when she awoke. For a moment, panic flared when a bright light glared in her eyes, but she soon realised it was the sun, not intruding reporters. Brody’s house. She was at Brody’s. She rolled onto her back and waited for her heart to slow. She’d slept better than she should have, given the events of last night. Deeper. In her line of work, she didn’t often spend the night. When she did, she’d trained herself to doze rather than truly sleep. Apparently not here, though. She’d crashed.
She stretched and felt the comfortable mattress adjust with her. The house sounded quiet around her. Was Brody still sleeping?
She pushed back the covers and got up. She knew he’d stayed up late, strategising and using that evil-genius brain of his. The hallway was empty when she peeked outside the guest room. No grumpy hunks threatened to bump into her, and she felt mildly disappointed. She had to have been more than tired to kiss him last night. Delusional, really, but it had been nice.
She pushed her hand through her tousled hair. Really nice.
Tiptoeing down the hallway, she looked into the rooms. She found the master bedroom, but it was empty. Unable to help her curiosity, she stepped inside. The bed was made with hospital corners, and everything was shipshape. Was he a neat freak by nature or did he have a cleaning service come in to keep the place tidy?
Did he sleep with them, too?
Some of his patented grumpiness rubbed off on her, and she left the room as she found it. Silence still permeated the house. It felt wide and open, but welcoming in a strange sort of way. He’d brought her here to protect Samuel, she knew, but she still felt sheltered. Hidden safe in the den of the big bad wolf.
She padded on bare feet back to the living room. There were an empty mug and some papers on the coffee table, and the cushions on the sofa were rumpled. Still, she saw no signs of the man who’d brought her here.
‘Brody?’ she called.
When she got no answer, she went to the garage and discovered his car was gone. He’d told the senator he’d contact him with a plan in the morning. Apparently, he’d headed out to do that in person – leaving her all alone in his house. Interesting. She surveyed the place. Was he a trusting soul or was this a test?
It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to do anything. She had more pride and class than that, but did he not know how much a person’s space told about him? Although she’d already read this space…She poked at a cashmere blanket draped over a chair. There was way too much decorator influence to learn much about the man.
But what was that?
She looked out the sliding glass door to the back yard. It had been too dark to see when she’d arrived, but the sun was high in the sky now. Through the big plate-glass door she saw a fire pit, gardens, an outdoor seating area and even some birdfeeders. Now that wasn’t done by a manila-and-beige decorator. She watched a bright-red cardinal land on a ground-level feeder.
Fascinating. Now she was getting somewhere.
She went to the sofa and curled up on the rumpled cushions. The papers on the table were filled with notes. How was he planning to handle this mess? And what was he planning to do with her? His handwriting was crisp and clean, but that didn’t help her. Her brow furrowed as she tried to follow the arrows and clouds of ideas. She blew out a calming breath. She really wanted to know what he was up to, but trying to translate his notes only gave her a headache.
Grumbling in frustration, she turned on the television. By luck, she landed right in the middle of a news segment with Samuel. She sat up straighter. The senator was on the steps of the Capitol, talking to a reporter about the events of last night. Genieve held her breath as the reporter’s questions focused on the break-in. Samuel called her his girlfriend, and the interview ended with no bombshells exploding.
‘Good,’ she said with a sigh. The senator had handled