No Stranger to Scandal

Eight



Lucy looked at Hayden, her head and heart at war. Now that he’d shared her bed, a couple of days apart seemed an eternity, so going with him to Montana was tempting on that factor alone. But there were unspoken words in his tone that made her think there was something else behind the invitation.

She stood to give herself some distance and took a few steps away. “Why do you want me to come?”

“We’ve been working together, so it makes sense.” He casually shrugged his broad shoulders and leaned back in his chair. “Can you get the time away from work?”

She was sure she could, since Graham wanted her to focus on the exposé, so the more time with Hayden, the better. Still, Hayden’s expression was too serious, too concerned.

“A few days ago you were angry at me for not being honest about doing the exposé. You said you’d been up-front. So, do it again now—be straight with me.” She crossed her arms under her breasts. “Why do you want me to come to Montana?”

He pushed his chair away from the desk and stood, but he didn’t come closer, as if respecting the distance she needed for this conversation. “I don’t want to leave you in the same town as Angelica when I’m not around. I don’t trust her, and she’s fixated on you.”

“I’d been in the same town as Angelica for years before you came along.”

He shook his head. “That was before. Her visit here a few days ago showed she’s on edge. She knows the walls are closing in.”

“You think you need to protect me,” she said, voice flat.

“Of course I should protect you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s my investigation that’s pushed her. It’s my responsibility to make sure you’re safe.”

Responsibility? There was that word again. Her stomach hollowed out. The last thing she wanted her lover to see when he looked at her was someone to be responsible for. Would he think that if they didn’t have a ten-year age difference? Would he see a woman his own age as able to look after herself?

She straightened her spine. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, Lucy. But if I’m right about Angelica, she’s capable of things worse than we already suspect her of.” With hands around her shoulders, he pulled her close and whispered in her ear. “Did I mention Josh will be staying in D.C. with the nanny? And that I’d book two suites in a new spa hotel—one for us and one for appearances. The one for us would have a hot tub built for two.” He placed several damp kisses on the shell of her ear, then pulled her lobe into his mouth, making her blood sizzle.

“Hayden...” she said on a sigh as she melted into him.

“I could make you very glad you agreed to come.”

Oh, yes, she knew he could. That fact wasn’t in question. What she needed to decide was whether she should go. Hayden’s hands slipped down to her waist and, nudging the edge of her blouse up, found bare skin just above her skirt. The delicious heat started to rise, and all reservations about going away with him evaporated.

“Okay,” she said, swaying against him. “But no more telling me what you think I want to hear. Promise you’ll just say what you mean.”

“Promise.” His lips moved across her cheek and captured hers in a kiss that was as much a vow as his word had been.

* * *

As the check-in receptionist at the Fields Chalet handed over the keys to her suite, Lucy smiled and thanked him, then moved aside so Hayden could check in to his suite. A buzz of excitement had been building deep in her belly since they’d left D.C. On the flight, and at both airports, she and Hayden had acted as if they had only a professional relationship, a charade they were keeping up for now.

She glanced around the foyer, all thick wooden poles and soaring glass panes showing the spectacular mountain view beyond. She’d been to Fields to ski in the past, but had always stayed in her aunt’s villa on the mountainside, which was kept fully stocked, so she hadn’t strayed into town. Since Hayden needed to interview people in the old township, they’d booked into this high-end chalet on the main street. Its grand opulence could have seemed out of place a few doors down from the feed store and across the road from a sawdust-and-peanut-shells tavern, but the chalet had landscaped the area between the road and the front door to create a buffer between the two worlds of Fields.

In the years the president had gone to school here, it had been a sleepy town of ranching families and local businesses, but over time that had changed. The rest of the country, including Lucy’s own aunt Judith, had discovered the stunning skiing and snowboarding location and development had soon followed. Now Fields was a hybrid of the charming old town and shiny new developments.

Hayden came up behind her and she could feel the warmth emanating from his body. Not touching him during the trip had been a special kind of torture.

“Would you like me to help you to your room?” he asked politely, taking her carry-on suitcase.

“Thank you,” she said in the calmest voice she could muster. “That’s very kind.”

They set off for the elevators, her body vibrating with the need to feel his skin under her fingertips, his mouth on hers. Hayden hit the button for the elevator, and in the partly secluded alcove, he dared to let the desire in his gaze flare to life.

“I hope you don’t have plans once you reach your room, Ms. Royall,” he said, his voice low.

A shiver raced across her skin. “Something in mind?”

“Hell, yes,” he said as the doors whooshed open.

As soon as they’d entered and the doors closed out the world, she turned to him. “Hayden—”

Before she could get any other words out, he’d pushed her against the wall, his hips pressed against hers, and claimed her mouth. Everything inside her melted and she dropped her handbag to the floor so she could use her hands to touch him—shoulders, biceps, neck, wherever she could reach. Under her fingers, his body shuddered, which only made her belly tighten even more, made her want him more. She arched her back, bringing her hips into closer contact with his, and was just considering pulling his shirt from his trousers when a chirpy bell sounded and the doors opened.

Hayden groaned as he pulled away. “I couldn’t wait another second.” He thrust a hand in front of the closing door to keep it waiting for them. “That trip was far too long—being so close, but not being able to kiss you.”

She swallowed, trying to get her voice to work. “And now there’s the walk from this elevator to our rooms. Yours or mine?”

“Your room, my room, I don’t care.” He cupped her chin and gave her bottom lip a butterfly-light caress with his thumb. “As long as it’s a room with a bed.”

She trembled with anticipation. “Then my vote is for the closest one.”

The corner of his mouth quirked. “Race you.”

He stepped out of the elevator, holding the doors open until she’d picked up her handbag and followed, then he strode down the hall, carrying both the bags, faster than her legs could keep up with. She caught him as he stopped to open the door with the key card. He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her through the door with him and nudging his carry-on bag through with a shoe.

The heavy door shut behind them and she had a few seconds’ glimpse of the opulent room with a gas fireplace and a majestic view of the mountain before Hayden dropped her bag and took up their kiss where they’d left off in the elevator. This time she wasn’t wasting any time and, as his tongue moved in her mouth, she undid his belt and slid it out of the loops on his trousers before throwing it as far across the room as she could.

When she reached for his zipper, Hayden pulled her hands back and wrenched her shirt over her head. “I need to feel your skin, to taste it.” His mouth came down on her shoulder, his tongue moving, teeth scraping across to her collarbone.

She moaned and felt for the wall behind her, taking a small step back, using it to help her stay upright. Hayden followed, pinning her against the cool wall as he found her mouth again. She pulled his shirt from his trousers as she’d wanted to do in the elevator, and he broke away for the seconds it took to grab it from the back and yank it over his head. When he came back to her, the feel of his bare chest on her sensitized skin made a sob rise in her throat. The dark, crisp hair brushed against her cheek while she tried to catch her breath, the muscles moving under her fingers as he kept moving, unzipping his trousers and kicking them away, divesting himself of his boxers, then sliding her skirt up her thighs and moving on to her panties.

“Condom?” she asked with what was probably her only remaining brain cell.

He held a foil packet up between his fingers. “I threw a couple in my pocket in case of an emergency.”

“This certainly qualifies as an emergency,” she said and took it from him, ripped it open and rolled it down his length, luxuriating in the solid feel of him.

The instant she was finished, he lifted her and brought her legs around his waist. She pushed against the wall at her back to give her traction and slid down onto him, all the breath leaving her body in a ragged sigh as she did.

He stilled and looked at her with such hunger, such raw need, that her pulse spiked even higher. “You know there’s a bed about ten feet away,” she whispered.

“Too far,” he said as he moved inside her, and all thought stopped. All she could do was feel—feel his hot mouth on her throat, the building wave inside, the frantic need that grew with every touch, every movement, until it was too big to contain and it reared up and crashed down over her, through her, and she was helpless to do anything but hold on to Hayden with every last bit of strength she had. Within moments, he rasped her name and shuddered, and she gripped him even tighter, panting, never wanting to let him go. Never.

Never.

Her skin turned cold. Never? This was a fling. Of limited duration and purely physical. She unwound her legs and slid down his body, and let him lead her over to the bed. Had she left her heart unguarded? Hayden pulled her down and under the covers, then wrapped her in his arms. Squeezing her eyes tight, she ignored the fluttering in her belly and let herself enjoy him for the time she had left. She’d deal with the fallout of a bruised heart when—if—it happened.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Hayden pulled the rental car up in front of a little cottage with bright pots of flowers and plants clustered on the porch and the paved walkway that led from the front gate. A little painted sign on the mailbox proclaiming “Jessup” showed they’d found the house of the former maid to the president’s family. His gut told him this was where Angelica Pierce’s phone-hacking odyssey had begun.

Lucy undid her seat belt and turned to him. “What are we looking for?”

Hayden straightened his tie, reconsidering the wisdom of bringing Lucy. His main thoughts had been about getting her out of D.C. while he was away, and keeping her safe from Angelica, but when he’d been trying to convince her to come, he’d implied she’d be helping with the investigation. Unfortunately, he hadn’t thought much past her safety till this morning.

“Hayden?”

“Tell me I’ll be able to trust you in there,” he said gruffly.

Her cheeks flushed pink. “You’re doubting me?”

“I’m acknowledging your split loyalties.”

“I’ve already proved you can trust me several times, including not telling Graham about Nancy Marlin when you asked me not to.” Her gaze was unwavering. “I’m on the side of truth, Hayden.”

His shoulders relaxed a fraction as he accepted her words. “Okay. But just so we’re clear, this interview is confidential.”

“Not a problem. I’m actually looking forward to seeing you interview someone else.”

“I usually run interviews alone, but if you have something to ask, let me know.”

“Which one am I—good cop or bad cop?” Her eyes twinkled with humor and suddenly he had to clench his hands on the wheel to stop himself reaching for her and feeling that curving mouth under his own.

“Barbara Jessup hasn’t done anything wrong, so we can probably dispense with the bad-cop role this time. Though if you’re still in the role-playing mood when we get back to the chalet—”

She laughed as she opened her door and said over her shoulder, “Let’s just deal with this meeting first.”

Barbara Jessup was an older woman with neatly pinned-back white hair and a welcoming smile. Hayden made the introductions when she met them at the door, and explained that Lucy was an ANS employee who was working as a consultant on this case. When she brought them into her living room, there was a plate of homemade cookies and a pot each of coffee and tea. He’d already spoken to her on the phone and she’d been keen to help, so after only a few minutes of small talk, they were able to jump to the heart of the matter.

Hayden placed his small recorder on the table and turned it on, then picked up his notebook and pen. “You spoke to Angelica Pierce, a journalist at ANS?”

“Oh, yes. A couple of times. The first time was back when President Morrow was just a senator. I always knew that boy would go far,” she said, pride filling her features.

“Then you spoke to her again more recently?”

Barbara picked up the plate of cookies and offered them around as she spoke. “About the time he was elected. Ms. Pierce said she had a few more questions.”

Hayden took a raisin-and-nut cookie but put it on his plate, keeping his hands free for taking notes. “Did you tell her about Eleanor Albert and the baby?”

The older woman squirmed a little in her seat. “In the first interview, she was asking about his school days and his friends, wanting to know if there were any left living here she could talk to. I gave her a few names, and when we came to dear Eleanor, I said I didn’t know where she was now and hadn’t seen her since she moved towns after giving up her baby.”

Just as he’d suspected, Angelica had stumbled over the information that had started the story. “Did you mention the baby might be the president’s?”

“Of course not!” Her teacup clattered into its saucer. “I’d never betray the family that way, even if I did know the truth.”

“I’m sure they appreciate that,” he said with a genuine smile. He liked Barbara Jessup. “When Angelica Pierce came the second time, did she ask about the baby again?”

Barbara sniffed. “She certainly did. But I told her I didn’t know anything.”

“And did you know more than you told her?”

“I know a lot of things about a lot of people, including about that baby. That doesn’t mean I’ll tell a journalist.” She looked pointedly at Lucy.

Lucy’s brows drew together and Hayden smothered a smile. “As I said, Lucy is helping with this investigation—you can trust her. Do you have friends or family who know the same things about Eleanor and the baby as you? People you might have talked to on the phone after Angelica left?”

Her face crinkled up in thought for a moment. “I did phone my friend Nancy Marlin and told her how the interview went.”

“Nancy knew about the baby?” He’d been planning to ask about Nancy Marlin since Lucy had overheard Angelica and Marnie discussing her, but it was even better that it had arisen naturally in the conversation.

“She worked for the Morrows for one summer, the one when Eleanor left, so she knew—or suspected—as much as me.”

He caught Lucy’s gaze. There was a faint flicker in her eyes that most people would have missed, but he’d come to be able to read Lucy—her investigator’s senses had perked up the same time his had.

He looked back to Barbara Jessup and gave her a warm smile. “This is very important, Mrs. Jessup. Think back to that phone call for me. Did either one of you mention in that conversation that you thought the baby might have been Ted Morrow’s?”

Her hand flew to cover her mouth, her eyes wide. “Is it all my fault?” she said from between her fingers. “Has that boy got all this trouble falling on his head because of me? I wasn’t even sure the baby was his. Oh, sweet Jesus, what have I done?”

Lucy moved over to the sofa beside Barbara and put a comforting hand on her arm. “No, Mrs. Jessup. This is not your fault. You did really well when you were interviewed. You kept the Morrows’ secrets.”

He’d bet money that after Ted Morrow was elected president, Angelica, like hundreds of other journalists across the country, had gone looking for a new angle. Something different to put on TV. She would have gone back over the footage and interviews from her first trip to Fields, looking for tidbits. When she saw the baby mentioned again, she would have done a simple internet search, as Hayden had done, and found Eleanor Albert was Ted Morrow’s prom date. There was no record of Eleanor Albert having a baby, or even of Eleanor herself after high school, so Angelica would have had no idea if she’d gotten pregnant within a time frame that could implicate the president.

So, hoping for a scoop, she would have gone back to Fields, interviewed the same people again, stirred up memories, and planted the taps on the phones. She’d lucked out when she overheard Barbara and her friend Nancy discuss the baby and their theory that Ted Morrow had been the father. Then she would have had Ames and Hall hire the hackers that focused on Ted Morrow’s and Eleanor Albert’s friends and families—the infamous scene that had been caught on tape—and they found enough information to run the story that had aired after the president’s inauguration. It was all clicking into place.

“I’m sorry to tell you, Mrs. Jessup,” Hayden said as gently as he could, “it’s very likely there’s a tap on your phone and some of the conversations you thought were private have been overheard.”

Her face twisted in disgust. “That’s plain wrong, that’s what that is.”

Lucy’s gaze met his again, just briefly, but in that moment he knew their thoughts were completely in sync. He felt somehow warmer.

“We agree,” he said, nodding. “And I’ll be working hard to make sure those responsible face justice. In the meantime, I can take care of your phone for you. And if you give me a list of your friends Angelica or her team spoke to, I can check their phones, as well.”

“You’re a good man, Mr. Black.” She turned to Lucy and patted her hand. “You hold on to this one real tight.”

Lucy’s mouth opened, startled. Hayden hesitated with his coffee mug halfway to his mouth. If Barbara Jessup had suspected their connection, they’d have to be more careful of betraying it, become more circumspect when they were together.

And even if he could admit there was something between him and Lucy, neither of them would be holding on to the other one tight. What they had was temporary. Physical and temporary.

Before Lucy could reply, Hayden stood and headed for the phone in the corner of the room. “I’ll start with this one.”

* * *

They stopped at a deli in town for lunch after their interview with Barbara Jessup. While Hayden waited for their sandwiches to be made, Lucy found a pretty table on the sidewalk. The town had an interesting vibe with the mix of traditional and new and she soon lost herself to people watching—a lifelong pastime that came in handy now that she was a journalist on the lookout for stories.

“Lucy? Is that you?”

She twisted in her seat to see her aunt—a tall woman dressed in understated elegance—emerging from the ski shop next door. Within moments, Lucy was off her feet and finding herself wrapped in a warm embrace.

“Aunt Judith,” Lucy said, hugging her tightly.

Judith stepped back, pulling a tissue from her bag and dabbing at her eyes. “I didn’t know you were in Fields, sweetie. You should have let me know.”

Lucy felt her own eyes mist over and blinked the moisture away. She should make more of an effort to see her father’s family—a couple of times a year was nowhere near enough. Being busy might be true, and it definitely had been easier to spend time with them when her father was alive and able to be the conduit, but family was important.

“I’m here for work,” she said, promising herself she’d visit again, soon. “Otherwise I absolutely would have called.”

Judith’s face brightened. “How long?”

“Just tonight.”

“You’ll have to come up to the villa for dinner.”

She glanced back to the deli, where Hayden was waiting for their order. “I’m traveling with a colleague.”

“Bring them,” Judith said with a generous sweep of her arms. “Philip and Rose are here, too, so we’ll make a cozy group.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Hayden approaching their table. How would he react to the invitation? He’d made his feelings about his ex-wife’s family clear—inherited money didn’t impress him. In fact, he’d been disdainful of their lavish lifestyle. Aunt Judith was her father’s sister—a Royall through and through—and had expensive tastes to go along with her wealth.

She stepped away from her aunt and turned to Hayden, who’d placed the sandwiches and drinks on the table. “Judith, this is Hayden Black. Hayden, this is my aunt, Judith Royall-Jones.”

Hayden reached out a hand. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“And you, Mr. Black. I was just telling Lucy to bring you up for dinner tonight at the villa.”

Hayden turned to her and raised an eyebrow. She started to shake her head, wanting to save him from a situation he might find uncomfortable.

“We don’t get to see enough of our Lucy, so I won’t take no for an answer.” Judith linked her elbow though Lucy’s and grinned, obviously certain of Hayden’s answer.

He looked from her aunt back to her, then a charming smile spread across his face. “In that case, I’d love to come.”