She wants her Secret Service agent back...

She was the president’s only daughter. And like a bad movie cliché, Vivian Bennett fell in love with her Secret Service agent, Joe Hunt. Except the night she chose to confess her feelings, the night he rebuked her embarrassing advance, was the night her stalker kidnapped her.

That was ten years ago. Joe, of course, had rescued her. But that didn’t stop her father from firing him, and her juvenile mistake cost Viv her best friend. Well, she’s back in Washington and, even though her dad’s no longer in office, she’s started to get threatening letters. She needs—wants—the only man she’s ever trusted to protect her a second time.

“You want me, of all people, to protect you?”

Vivian took a deep breath. She’d known coming here wouldn’t be easy, but Joe was her best option and her first choice.

“I’m no longer entitled to Secret Service protection and I wouldn’t want that anyway. I could hire another investigator but that person wouldn’t know me and wouldn’t really understand the situation like you do.”

And the last time in her life she had felt truly safe was when Joe had been watching over her. She wanted that again. She was willing to sacrifice her pride to get it. Hers had been a foolish stunt by a twenty-year-old girl who thought she was madly in love...

You were madly in love.

Regardless, she thought, her feelings had cost him his job, his future and his relationship with his father. Not to mention what that did to the rest of his family. Vivian had considered what might happen when she saw him again—that he might yell or, worse, tell her to get lost in that scary soft tone he always used when he was super angry.

His laughter was unexpected.

Then suddenly he stopped. “You do recall what happened the last time you were under my protection?”

Dear Reader,

Her Secret Service Agent is kind of a crazy story. I actually wrote this book many, many years ago. And I always loved the idea of it. However, after taking it out of the drawer, I realized how much I had changed as a writer in the years since and knew that I was going to write the whole book over again.

It was great rediscovering my old self while at the same time realizing how far I had come in my twenty-plus years writing for Harlequin.

Joe was then and is now one of my most favorite heroes, and Vivian is the heroine I most respect for being afraid about a lot of things but always standing up to those fears. I really hope you enjoy their story! If you like Her Secret Service Agent, you can follow me on Amazon, find me at www.stephaniedoyle.net, on Facebook at Stephanie Doyle Books, or on Twitter, @stephdoylerw. Phew! That’s a lot of places.

Stephanie

Her Secret Service Agent

Stephanie Doyle

www.millsandboon.co.uk

STEPHANIE DOYLE, a dedicated romance reader, began to pen her own romantic adventures at age sixteen. She began submitting to Harlequin at age eighteen and by twenty-six her first book was published. Fifteen years later, she still loves what she does, as each book is a new adventure. She lives in South Jersey with her cat, Hermione, the designated princess of the house. When Stephanie’s not reading or writing, in the summer she is most likely watching a baseball game and eating a hot dog.

MILLS & BOON

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

Ten Years Ago

“VIV, WHERE ARE we going?”

“Just follow me,” Vivian said, taking Joe by the hand and leading him through the crowded house party a couple of blocks off the Georgetown campus. She needed privacy, something she’d thought would be easy to find at a college party. Everyone had stories about secret hookups at parties like this. The reality, however, was there were more people than space in the brownstone and the hooking-up seemed to happen openly.

Something she might have known if she actually did the college party scene more often. She didn’t usually come to these types of events. Not the most social person, she preferred spending her nights quietly with a small circle of friends. Friends she could trust.

For that matter so did Joe Hunt, who was her Secret Service point man.

Tonight had been his night off, but Vivian had convinced him to switch shifts with Cindy, who mostly handled nights and weekends. Joe had a hard time denying Vivian anything, so it wasn’t a surprise he’d agreed to the request. Now she had to work up the courage to go through with the rest of her plan.

Vivian thought that if she could have him to herself at a casual event, and they could really talk, then he might understand what she was feeling. He might also be more willing to admit what she was pretty sure he was feeling, too.

“Seriously, Viv, if this is about you thinking I’m going to let you drink, forget it. You’ve got six months to go before you’re twenty-one, and I’m not bending on a single hour. Your father would have my ass.”

Vivian didn’t bother to answer. As if drinking beer was even close to what she was getting ready to tell him. She’d been waiting for this night for weeks, and the last person she wanted to think about now was Daddy.

As president of the United States, leader of the free world, he was known to be an overbearing hard-liner. As a single father to his only daughter, he was even stricter. He would definitely not approve of what Vivian was about to do.

Despairing of finding an empty bedroom, she decided her second-best option was a room she knew would allow them privacy and had a lock on the door. She found an upstairs bathroom off the master bedroom. While there were people milling about in the bedroom, talking and drinking, the bathroom was fortunately unoccupied.

It would have to do.

She pulled Joe in behind her, shut the door and locked it for good measure. Phase One was complete.

Then she turned to face him, and all the words got stuck in her throat. He was dressed casually, albeit professionally, to help blend in at the event. As point man, his job was to stay with her at all times while Carl Mather, his backup, secured the entrance and exit points and patrolled the perimeter of the house.

With his hair, slightly longer than standard for a federal agent, and his slacks and button-down, along with a blazer she knew covered his shoulder holster, he might have passed for college age. A preppy Georgetown law school student, perhaps.

It was a point of contention for him because she knew his buddies in the service called him Baby Face Hunt. Any time someone said it to him he scowled, which usually made her smile. She took enough grief from him on a daily basis that she loved it when he got a taste of payback.

“And now we’re in the bathroom. Why?” he said as if still trying to understand why she had led him here.

“I wanted to talk. In private.”

“So talk.”

Vivian nodded. This was it. Phase Two. She wanted to tell him how much he’d meant to her these past two years. She wanted to tell him how desperately alone she’d been before he came along. Having lost her mother at twelve had been hard, as it would be for any girl that age. But going through that while her remaining single parent was running for the most visible office in the world hadn’t been a cakewalk.

Then Joe came into her life to take over her protection going into college and everything changed. Realistically, she understood she was just an assignment to him. His job. But she also knew when she talked, he listened. And he talked to her, too. They ate most of their meals together, knew about each other’s day. Each other’s lives and families. Each other’s goals and dreams.

In the two years they had been together, somehow he’d become her best friend. The person she most wanted to be with in the world.

The man she...loved.

Except saying all that was apparently not going to happen. She wanted to share everything with him, but now that the moment was here, she could barely breathe.

Shit! It was happening again. She couldn’t take enough air into her lungs, and then she started to pant.

“Viv,” Joe said, moving in and holding on to her shoulders. Forcing her to meet his gaze. “Look at me. Look at me. Easy now. Deep breath. In. Out. Again. In. Out.”

After a few moments she was breathing normally. Joe always had that effect on her minor panic attacks. Like he could will them away.

Only now his expression got harder, darker. “Okay, for real. Talk to me. What’s got you upset? Did someone say something to you? Do something?”

Vivian shook her head. This was supposed to be a fun night. A casual party. They were supposed to be talking about their relationship, only now she could see she was worrying him.

“No, nothing like that. It’s just...we’ve known each other for two years...and I...thought...that... Oh, forget Phase Two.”

That was when she did it. It was actually pretty easy. Joe still had his hands on her shoulders. All she had to do was press her body against his. She found his mouth with hers and then wrapped her arms around his waist as if she could hold on for dear life.

This was Phase Three. Everything depended on Phase Three.

She could feel his surprise, feel his hands tighten on her shoulders. She broke away from the kiss and he opened his mouth to say something, but it was too late. She was kissing him again, and this time her tongue was in his mouth and she was tasting him.

Vivian Abigail Eleanor Bennett was kissing Joe Hunt, and it was heaven.

Then her back was pressed hard against the locked door of the bathroom and she felt his tongue thrusting against hers. She thought she might have whimpered. Suddenly he was gone and she was empty.

“What the effing hell was that?” he shouted at her.

Still reeling from desire and excitement, it took her a second to process his words. All she could think about was how her mouth felt. It was the only thing on her body she could feel. Hot, swollen, wet.

He tasted...amazing, and all she knew was that she wanted more. Except he was yelling at her.

Wait. Why was he yelling?

“What are you thinking? I’m seven years older than you and a freaking federal agent!”

“But...”

“But nothing!”

Vaguely, Vivian wondered if the people out in the bedroom could hear them. Mortification started to descend on her. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She knew how he felt about her. She’d just confirmed it with that kiss.

“You idiot! Is this why you brought me here? To make some half-assed, immature pass? What? Did Daddy’s little princess think she was entitled to some screwing? I’m not your damn slave, Viv. You’re my freaking work assignment.”

“I didn’t... I mean... I love you.”

He slammed his hand hard against the door next to her ear, and she jumped. In the two years they had been together she’d never seen him like this. Joe was her rock, her stability. Joe was the person who made the fear dissipate. Joe took panic attacks away and made her feel like she could do anything she set her mind to.

He’d been annoyed with her at times, sure, but he never got angry. Never like this.

“You’re nothing but a stupid kid. What the hell do you know about love?” he asked softly.

She heard each word. Deep, as if they had penetrated her skin instead of her ears. Somehow her world had just exploded in front of her, and everything she knew to be real was fake.

She turned, fumbled with the lock and ran out of the bathroom.

“Vivian!”

She heard him shout her name, but she didn’t stop. She ran down the steps, pushing everyone out of her way, oblivious to the stares and whispers that followed her. They were always there, like a soundtrack to her life.

What was the matter with the president’s daughter?

Did someone upset the princess?

Then she was out on the sidewalk. Her breaths were shallow and she couldn’t get control over them. She needed to calm down. To focus. But the one person who could help her do that was the last person she wanted to see.

Then she heard someone coming up behind her, felt a hand reach around and put something over her mouth. She tried to pull away when it all went dark.

* * *

JOE WAS GOING to kill her.

Hopefully, right after he saved her life.

It was the one thought that kept surfacing once Vivian had regained consciousness in the freezing-cold cabin, blindfolded, naked and tied to a chair.

No, it would be okay. Joe would come for her. Yes, he was angry with her. Yes, she knew this was her fault for running away from him, but it wouldn’t stop him. Nothing would stop him until he found her.

She tried to bring his face into focus through the fear. Except the only face she saw was the angry version of him. The one who called her a child and an idiot.

She needed the other Joe. The one who made her less afraid. She’d suffer anything to have him here right now, kneeling in front of her and telling her to count her breaths.

Breathe. Just breathe.

That was what she’d been doing, Vivian remembered now. She ran away from Joe, something she would no doubt receive a severe lecture about. She was never supposed to leave his line of sight at an unsecured event. His definition of a party.

Only she had to get away from him. She remembered getting to the sidewalk, struggling for some air and then...

The hand. A hand coming around her face, pressing against her mouth and nose. She hoped she hadn’t simply fainted with fear. That her kidnapper had used some kind of drug. Otherwise, that would result in yet another lecture from Joe.

He’d been diligent about teaching her self-defense, an hour almost every day. He would be disheartened to know she hadn’t even attempted to fight off her attacker. Hadn’t even reached for her panic button.

Nothing.

Yes, The Hand had to have been holding something. Or maybe he knocked her out with a blunt blow to the head. Vivian tried to concentrate on whether she hurt anywhere, but the truth was she couldn’t feel a thing.

Except the cold and the brush of the ropes across her shins, stomach and breasts, irritating her bare skin.

She didn’t think she’d been raped while she was unconscious. She was a virgin, so she had to believe if The Hand had raped her, she would be sore between her legs. She wasn’t. However, as it had gotten colder, numbness took over and she couldn’t be certain of anything.

At least he hadn’t touched her that way since she woke up. How long had it been?

At least one day. Despite the blindfold, she could tell there was a subtle change in the light in the room. There had to be windows here, letting in the sun. How long she’d been unconscious before that, she had no idea.

Vivian didn’t know what was worse—when she was alone like she was now, or when he came to her. Shouting passages from the Bible. Calling her wicked names. Beating her, then crying that he was sorry as he told her how much he loved her.

At least during those moments she was focused. The pain helped to keep the numbness at bay. She also listened for clues in his words, his manner of speech, hoping he might reveal his identity or where he was hiding her.

She’d seen movies like this. Eventually, he was going to have to call her father. She knew Daddy and the Secret Service would be waiting to take the call. When that happened, her father would demand to speak to her to prove she was still alive. She wanted to be able to give him and Joe, who she was sure would be right next to her father, an indication of where she was.

So far she’d only been able to determine they were someplace drafty with no central heat. Her kidnapper had a Southern accent and he knew his Bible really well. The Hand had given nothing else away.

“Vivian! Oh, Vivian! Where are you, slut?”

Her body shuddered at the sound of his voice. He was back. Somewhere in the house. The panic returned, and she forced herself to take full breaths.

She could hear the creak of the door opening. Felt that she was no longer alone in the room.

“There you are. Right where I left you. That’s a good girl. A very good girl.”

Her heart started beating against her rib cage like it was trying to get out of her body. Although she found herself almost grateful for the adrenaline rush that warmed her a little.

She attempted again to talk to him. To reason with him.

“My father,” she said through chattering teeth, “will pay you whatever you ask.”

The Hand laughed, the sound more grating than his Bible verses.

“I don’t want your daddy’s money, Sugarplum. I want you. I love you. I want you to be with me. Forever. But I need to purify you first. I need you to come to me like a baby comes to her momma. When I know you’re clean then we can go away together.”

Moving her would mean a chance at escape. “I...think I’m clean now.”

She wasn’t at all. She’d peed herself twice since being here.

Since she couldn’t see beyond the blindfold, she was unprepared for the heavy backhand across her face, followed by a second and a third. Then a solid fist against her left temple made her head spin.

Although she should have expected it by now. He apparently didn’t like sass.

You’re losing it, Vivian. Get a grip now!

It was Joe’s voice in her head. Typical of him to be so harsh with her at a time like this. She would never understand why she had chosen to fall in love with a man as unforgiving as Joe Hunt. Then she actually giggled. Foolish girl. She was a child. What did she know about love?

“You’re not clean. You’re dirty! Dirty. Evil and dirty. I know because I see it in your eyes and in all those pictures they take of you. I see the dirt, and I want to cry because I know you want to be clean. Don’t you, Sugarplum? Don’t you want to be clean?”

“I...want...to...be...clean,” she stuttered. “Maybe I could have a blanket and wipe myself off.”

The Hand connected with her right cheek this time.

Okay, the hitting was starting to piss her off. Although maybe that was a good thing. The anger mixed with her fear might keep her warm a little longer. Which was important because if she died of hypothermia before Joe rescued her, she was sure she’d never hear the end of it.

Wait, she thought hazily, that didn’t make sense. She tried to shake off the low buzzing in her head. She needed to stay clear. She needed to listen for clues.

“Sugarplum, Sugarplum, I don’t want to hurt you. I have to hurt you because you don’t understand. You can’t get clean from the outside. You need to get clean from the inside. Do you understand now?”

She let her head fall forward a few times.

“Goooood,” The Hand crooned. Then he began to stroke her hair. “You’ll see, Sugarplum. This will work. You’ll get clean and I will have been the one to save you. Then we can be together. Forever.”

She didn’t want to ask, but she had to know. “What if... I...don’t...get clean?”

A thin point of pressure against the base of her throat penetrated the numbness. It wasn’t a gun. It was too thin. Sharp. A knife.

“Then I’m going to have to make you clean. I’m going to have to open you up so I can get the dirt out. Then I will baptize you in your own blood. You’ll like that. You will at least be clean for God.”

“Oh...kay...” she muttered, losing all sense of what he was saying. She was fading. She felt it. Her body was starting to shut down, and for the first time Vivian considered what might happen if Joe didn’t get to her in time.

“I don’t want to do it, Sugarplum. I surely don’t. God has told me that you are my one and only beloved, and you must sparkle if you are going to be with me. But if I can’t get you to sparkle...if I can’t make you shine...then I have to kill you, don’t you see? I can’t let you be with anyone else. Not when you’re so dirty. Clean with me or dirty and dead.”

“Joe... Joe,” she muttered like a mantra over and over again.

“Very slowly, put the knife down and back away from the woman.”

Vivian lifted her head at the new voice in the room. She hadn’t heard the door over The Hand’s talking.

“Joe,” she cried out.

“Shut up, Vivian.”

Yep, that sounded just like him.

“No!” The Hand cried out in return. “You can’t have her! She’s a dirty slut, but she’s mine. She’s mine. She’s all mine!”

“This is your last warning. Put the knife down and step away from the chair.”

“Never! I love her. I love Sugarplum this much!”

Three successive shots rang out. Vivian felt a heavy weight fall against her body, and then she felt something wet and warm run down her stomach and legs.

The smell of it hit her like a punch in the gut.

Blood.

Then she didn’t feel anything anymore.

* * *

JOE SAT IN the waiting area of the hospital, his head in his hands.

What did I do? What did I do?

The single question kept rolling over in his head, and he couldn’t turn it off. He probably should have been more focused on the events of the last three days. Working with the FBI, identifying Harold McGraw through footage at various public events, tracking down an obscure piece of property in northern Virginia he owned. Only forty miles outside DC.

It had been good work by everyone on the team, and they found her. Alive.

It had been the first time he’d discharged his weapon as an agent, and it had been lethal. Joe didn’t care, so why did he keep asking the question?

What did I do? What did I do?

He knew the answer.

I let her go. I let her go. I let her go.

He heard a door open, and then several people were walking down the hospital corridor toward him. Secret Service in front of and behind the president. Joe got up and walked to intercept them. He had to know how she was.

“Sir,” Joe began.

The two men in front of the president stepped aside, and Joe noticed how much older Alan Bennett looked today than he had just three days ago. As if he’d aged three years instead.

“Please, sir. If you could tell me how she is. Anything. I’m going crazy waiting for some kind of news.”

The look of contempt on the president’s face might have made another man back off, but Joe wasn’t going anywhere.

Yes, he knew he deserved the older man’s rage. Joe had given a full report to the president immediately after Vivian had been taken. He had claimed total responsibility for allowing her to leave his line of sight voluntarily. He hadn’t told the full truth, of course. He would never go there. Certainly not with her father.

He’d said only that they had argued and exchanged harsh words. Vivian had been upset and Joe had thought she needed a moment to gather her composure.

Carl, his backup, had been monitoring the back of the house. It had taken Harold McGraw only minutes to knock her out and put her in his van. Drunken college students watched it happen like it was some kind of fraternity prank. So damn easy.

“I’ve given notice to your superior. You’re not on suspension. You’re terminated. Effective immediately. Now leave my sight.”

Joe dropped his head. “Understood, sir. But if I could just see her...”

That was when he heard it. A shrill scream from behind the door the president had just exited.

“Joe! I need Joe!”

“If I could see her... I might help to calm her panic attacks.”

“Jooooe! Joe! Where is he?”

“Good question, Joe. Where were you?” The president didn’t wait for an answer and instead closed his eyes. His pain was a tangible presence in the hallway. When he opened them, Joe knew for certain he was never going to see Vivian Bennett again.

“I...failed her. I know. But I can help her now.”

“I think you’ve done enough.”

Joe nodded. This man wasn’t going to let him pass. “Please, if you just tell me... McGraw, did he...? I mean the rape kit...was it...?”

He couldn’t even get the words out, but in what must have been a moment of empathy, the president said, “He didn’t rape her.”

The breath left Joe’s body then, and he thought he actually might pass out. She’d been beaten, psychologically abused, but not sexually assaulted. Her first time wasn’t that. It was small comfort, but he had to know.

“Thank you. For that. Now you have to promise me you’ll take care of her,” Joe begged. “I know you’re the president, but you have to be her father now.”

“Where’s Joe! I want Joe!”

Joe closed his eyes against the anguish in her voice. “You have to promise me. Please... I can’t leave her unless I know that.”

President Bennett got up in his face. “If you don’t leave now, my men will assume you are a credible threat to myself and my family and have you arrested.”

Joe dropped his head. He had no choice. He turned and walked down the hallway as fast as he could without running. Not because he was afraid of being arrested but because if he had to listen to the sound of Vivian screaming for him for another second he was pretty sure he was going to lose his mind.

CHAPTER TWO

Present Day

JOE HANDED THE woman in front of him a tissue from a box he kept on his desk at all times for just such an occasion.

“I’m very sorry, Karin. Unfortunately the evidence is pretty conclusive. Your husband is having an affair with his coworker.”

He thought it helped for him to say the words out loud. As a private investigator who had shown a number of spouses evidence of adultery, he knew his clients often didn’t believe him until he had spoken the words.

Maybe there is a reason you have a photo of him removing her blouse.

Maybe there is a reason his car was parked at a remote area and she was facedown in his lap.

Maybe there is a reason why her tennis appointment every Wednesday is conducted at a small hotel downtown and neither she nor her instructor is ever seen holding rackets.

Joe had heard it all. Which was why he said the words out loud. Only, having to say them to a seven-months-pregnant woman left a more bitter taste in his mouth than usual.

“What do I do?”

“You need to decide that for yourself, but I strongly suggest talking to him first. Be honest. Give him a chance to be honest in return.”

Another part of the script. What Joe was really thinking was that she should throw the jerk out on his ass, take half his money, and find someone who would be decent and faithful to her.

He heard voices in the hallway outside his office, and through the beveled glass he could see two tall figures in suits standing just outside. Joe’s office was a single room, so when he was meeting with a client, he kept the door locked to prevent interruption.

Karin apparently had heard enough. He handed her a few more tissues, told her he would send his final bill and then walked her out the door.

He wasn’t at all surprised to see who was waiting for him. It had only been a matter of time.

“Hi, Joe,” the older man said as he offered his hand.

“Hey, Carl. Long time no see.”

Carl nodded grimly. “This is Special Agent Mark Thompson. If you have a few minutes, we would like to talk to you.”

Special Agent Thompson was a young fresh-faced man who reminded Joe of himself at that age. The man pulled out and showed his badge to Joe.

“Yeah,” Joe said. “I know what they look like.”

“Sir, we’re here in an official capacity. We think it best to stick to the formalities.”

Joe looked at Carl. “Official capacity. Well, this sounds important.”

Even as he opened the door and let the two men in, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

He sat behind his desk while they took the guest chairs in front of him.

“I don’t know if you heard that Ms. Bennett is back in DC. She’s opened a new store in town and was recently featured in a local newscast.”

Joe nodded once. Of course he knew she was back.

“In the past few months, she’s been receiving anonymous notes.” Carl took out a laminated piece of paper and set it on his desk. “Does anything about this letter look familiar to you?”

I’m coming for you, Sugarplum.

Block letters, from different print mediums. “No, the letter is not familiar.”

His brain was reeling. Someone was threatening Vivian. Someone was calling her Sugarplum. He knew that name. He knew the last time she’d heard it. It had been right before he’d shot Harold McGraw.

Joe’s jaw clenched as it finally dawned on him why two members of the Secret Service were here in his office.

“What the hell is this, Carl?”

“Sir, we’re looking into anyone who might have been involved in the Bennett kidnapping,” Agent Thompson answered. “As a person of interest.”

Joe nearly growled. “Carl, you have five seconds to shut this little puppy’s mouth and tell me what the hell is going on.”

“Sir—” the kid began.

“Thompson. Shut it,” Carl snapped. “Sorry, Joe. Direct orders. Vivian told her father about the letters and he asked us to look into it. She’s not under SS protection unlike her father. Although currently he only requires a detail when he’s out of the country.”

“The former president is in China. Shouldn’t you be with him?”

Carl frowned. “Never made it onto his detail team.”

Right, Joe thought. Because while Carl had for the most part been blameless in “the Bennett kidnapping,” as the puppy referred to it, it had still happened on his watch. The president wouldn’t have forgotten that. One more thing Joe could claim responsibility for destroying. Carl’s career potential.

“So you’re investigating the source of these letters.”

“She reported the letters to the MPD, but they haven’t been able to provide much information. She told her father and...”

“And the federal government is now involved. I get it,” Joe said, and he did. Alan Bennett was a commander of men. If he asked for something, he got it. Always. “But seriously, Carl? You have to know I would never...”

“I do. But here is the thing. According to Vivian, she only told one other person McGraw referred to her as Sugarplum.”

“Me?”

“No, her therapist.”

Joe tried to keep his expression blank, but it wasn’t easy. Not when the world knew what McGraw had done to her.

“But it occurred to me that you were there with her in the cabin,” Thompson said. “You might have heard McGraw use the name, as well. I communicated that to President Bennett, and he agreed you should be checked out, as well.”

Joe almost laughed. Bennett knew damn well Joe had nothing to do with terrorizing Vivian. This visit was just his way of telling Joe to stay clear of her. Which was why Joe hadn’t been all that surprised by their arrival. He’d almost expected it since learning she was back in DC.

Ten years was a long time. But not long enough to forget. At least not for President Bennett.

“I can’t help you,” Joe said finally.

He stood and shook hands with Carl. He ignored the puppy.

Then he decided he’d had a hell of day and needed a drink.

* * *

THE DOOR TO the bar opened, and a ray of bright light poured in. For a moment the place seemed to glow, then once more it sank back into its familiar gloominess. Joe could hear someone walking toward him on high-heeled shoes, delicately clicking against the floor. And he knew. He knew it before he turned his head.

“Hi, Joe.”

Vivian Abigail Eleanor Bennett. The last time he saw her, her eyes were swollen shut and her lips were parched and split. But now the angry red gash on her forehead had healed. The ugly purple bruises on her face and collarbone had vanished. Although he noticed she had dark circles under her eyes.

She was stunning. As a young woman she had been pretty, made even more so by how little she realized it. Ten years later and she was drop-dead gorgeous. Same blue eyes and long blond hair, but the ten years had only added to her looks.

Her mother had been a Southern Belle Beauty Queen champion, so it was no surprise where her looks came from. Still, it jolted him.

“May I sit?”

He nodded, unable to find the words after all these years. It was a tie between I’m so sorry I let you go and You ruined my life.

He couldn’t imagine it would be much different for her. Something along the lines of I shouldn’t have kissed you and You bastard, how could you let that monster hurt me?

The bartender approached her and hiked his chin as a signal he was ready for her order. Dom’s wasn’t a really formal place.

“I’ll have what he’s having.” She smiled.

“I’m having a shot of Jack and a Guinness chaser.”

“I’ll have a Chardonnay,” she said and then placed a bill on the bar, which Dom traded for the glass of wine.

Joe shook his head. It was surreal. He could turn his head and look at her. Talk to her. When for so long she’d been nothing but an image on a screen. For weeks after he’d been fired, he’d watched every second of media coverage he could find, replaying it over and over again so he could see for himself how she was healing. If the bruises were fading. If she was still favoring her right side.

Then, of course, came the interview. The one that was supposed to settle the incident and repair the American psyche. After all, if the president’s daughter could be abducted and abused by a monster, then no one in this country was safe.

Then the other incident happened. Joe hadn’t stuck around to watch that.

Now she was sitting next to him drinking a glass of wine he could tell was foul by the way she winced after every sip.

“What the hell are you doing here, Viv?”

She set the glass aside and turned to face him. Again he was struck by how beautiful she’d become. Or maybe he’d forgotten how pretty she’d been back then because he had always shut down those thoughts.

Mostly.

“I’m sorry about what happened today. I had no idea that Carl would...”

“Question me? Interrogate me? Suspect me?”

She gulped. “Any of those things, I suppose.”

Joe shrugged. “Hey, just another day getting my life turned upside down by the Bennetts. Not like that hasn’t happened before.”

Vivian nodded. “I guess I deserved that.”

She didn’t deserve any of it, he thought. Yet she deserved all of it, too.

“You ruined my life,” he said and laughed. Because she would hear one thing, but he knew it to mean something else entirely.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Then she laughed, too. “Wow, that felt good. For so long I’ve thought about how to tell you that. At one point I thought maybe skywriting it over an Orioles’ home game. ‘Joe. Hunt. I’m. Sorry.’ Big block letters so I would know you would see them. It actually feels strange to finally say it.”

It would have been easy enough to say she had nothing to be sorry for. It would be easy for him to ask forgiveness for screwing up and letting her get hurt. But they’d both be lying if they forgave each other.

“I did try to fix it. I didn’t know you had been fired. I thought you had resigned. Cindy, remember her?”

The agent who should have been on point detail that night instead of him. “Yeah. I remember her.”

“She told me what really happened. I went to Daddy, but he didn’t want to listen...then I sent a letter to your superior at the time and I explained to him what happened. You deserved your job back.”

“That was you,” Joe said, remembering the odd call he’d gotten from Tom, his old boss, a few years ago. It had been right after Bennett left office after his second term. Tom determined that Joe hadn’t been given a fair hearing. Tom wanted to know if Joe would consider reinstatement under suspension, on condition of a formal review of the incident.

Joe had been too far removed from his old life to think about going back. No, he had his freedom, his business, the life he’d built after his spectacular failure. It wasn’t great, but he owned it. Grasping at the past didn’t feel like a solution because nothing could be undone.

Things could only begin again.

“I thought you would go back,” she said.

“I didn’t want it.”

“I thought maybe the Colonel...”

“The Colonel was dead by then.” So there was no hope of regaining his father’s approval. Not that Joe would have wanted it. He could be just as stubborn as his old man.

“I know. I just meant I thought you might do it for him.”

Joe looked at her. “How did you know about the Colonel?”

“Your mom,” Vivian said as if it were obvious. “You must know we still keep in touch. We’re friends on Facebook. I get to see all the grandchildren your siblings are producing. Your nephew Mike looks exactly like you. He’s mastered your serious frown.”

She was smiling like it was a shared moment between them, but his mind was blown. No, he didn’t know she was in touch with his mother this entire time. On Facebook? It was inconceivable.

Did his father know that? Vivian Bennett hadn’t been a popular topic in the Hunt household after the kidnapping.

“Why are you here?” he asked again, suddenly irritated. With her, with his mother for not telling him she was talking to Vivian. And that his mother knew how Vivian was doing while he did not. That his mother would have seen pictures of that life on freaking Facebook of all things.

“To apologize for Carl’s visit. It must have surprised you to learn I was back in DC.”

“I knew you were back,” he admitted. “Too many people I know who knew you. They loved telling me, too, like they expected some kind of reaction. You have to love people and their desire to create drama.”

Another lie. He had heard she was back, that was true. What she didn’t know was that he’d gone to her store in Georgetown. Vivian’s Creations. He’d played out a dozen scenarios where he opened the door and walked inside. Said hello.

In the end, he’d left without entering.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her. It was more like he didn’t want to be the one who made the first move. Which was ridiculous. It was entirely possible Vivian never wanted to see him again. He thought maybe it would be better if they met in a Starbucks, or the Metro. Some place where they could run into each other casually.

Except Carl and the puppy showed up before any of that happened. Now she had come to him. Yes, this was much better, he decided, letting go of his irritation. Because he was pretty damn sure she hadn’t tracked him down to Dom’s to apologize for a few questions from the Secret Service.

“No, Viv, I mean why are you really here?”

She squirmed on the stool and then reached to fiddle with her diamond earring, something she did when she got nervous. Only they hadn’t been diamonds back in college. Just simple hoops or studs.

It made him wonder how well she was doing with her business that she could afford diamonds. Despite Daddy being loaded, she’d never wanted his money. She used to talk about it all the time, making her own way. Becoming her own woman. Someone who wasn’t always in the shadow of her overbearing father.

Joe had pointed out that having Daddy pick up the college tab was a pretty big helping hand. Joe’s father certainly wouldn’t have paid for any private college. His children had the option of the military or bust.

Still, there was a part of him that couldn’t help feeling proud that she’d earned her success.

“You mean why did I come back to DC?” she asked, and he knew she was playing innocent. He let her have a pass. None of this shit between them was easy.

“Yeah. Why now after all these years?”

“Daddy’s getting older. You wouldn’t know it to look at him, but I realized hiding away on the other side of the country I was missing out on time I could be spending with my father. Suddenly I wasn’t afraid to come back anymore.”

“Did you have a business out there?”

That made her smile. “Still do,” she said, not hiding her pride. “I have some really talented people running it for me, while I get Vivian’s Creations off the ground here. I’m a chain now. Who would have ever have thought I might actually do something productive?”

“Me. I did.”

She met his eyes and then focused on the wineglass instead and nodded. “Yeah, you did. Always giving me pep talks.”

“I knew what it was like to have a father like yours. Always feeling like you never measured up. I felt I needed to offset that.”

“Yes, but my father loves me, too.”

Joe couldn’t say what the Colonel had felt for him. Love? If it was, it was fleeting after Joe had failed the nation.

“Don’t be mad.”

Joe’s lips twitched. Vivian always told him that when she knew whatever she was going to say next would make him mad.

“What?”

“I went to him.”

“Who?”

“The Colonel. I wrote a letter to your mother. I thought it was important that your family know the truth...”

“Hell, Vivian. Are you serious? What the hell did you say?”

“That you weren’t to blame. That we got into a fight and I ran away from you. That it was my fault. I didn’t mention...the other thing.”

The kiss. A kiss he hadn’t forgotten in ten years.

Joe was still trying to process why she thought the truth exonerated him.

“Your mom asked me to come and talk to him. To try to make him understand. I think she was heartsick about how he’d treated you. Plus, she probably missed having you around. I said everything I could, but he never looked at me once. When I ran out of words, he said thank you and left the room.”

One more thing to be angry with that bastard over, being a jerk to Vivian.

“I could have told you what his reaction would be.”

“Maybe. But you weren’t there.”

The jab hurt, and he looked at her to see if she’d said it intentionally. Reminding him of his many sins. Leaving Vivian at the hospital and never looking back.

Sometimes he could still hear her screaming in that broken voice.

Where is he?

So many sins. How could she possibly forgive them all?

One more time. “Why are you here, Viv?”

“I’m scared,” she admitted. “Not really something new for me, but with these notes...”

It wasn’t the answer he wanted, but at least she wasn’t lying. He could feel her fear in her tight, shallow breaths.

“Carl’s going to handle it. He’ll find whoever did this. Some nutjob who saw you on the news and now wants his fifteen minutes.”

She shook her head. “It’s not enough. I have a lot on my plate starting this new business, rebuilding my life here in DC. I can’t do that looking over my shoulder everywhere I go. I want to feel safe. I need to feel safe. Which is why I’m here. I want to hire you to protect me.”

Now that, Joe thought, was irony. Then he burst out laughing.

CHAPTER THREE

IT WASN’T EXACTLY the reaction she expected. She waited until he had calmed down, but noted that there were actual tears in his eyes. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him laugh so hard.

“It’s not that funny.”

“Yes. It is. You want me, of all people, to protect you?”

Vivian took a deep breath. She’d known coming here wouldn’t be easy, but she’d also known he was her best option and her first choice.

“I’m no longer entitled to Secret Service protection, and I wouldn’t want that anyway. I could hire another investigator, but that person wouldn’t know me and wouldn’t really understand the situation like you do.”

And the last time she had felt truly safe in her life was when Joe had been watching over her. She wanted that again. She was willing to sacrifice her pride to get it. It wasn’t a question that he could have forgiven her. A foolish stunt by a twenty-year-old girl who thought she was madly in love...

You were madly in love.

Regardless, she thought, her feelings had cost him his job, his future and his relationship with his father. Not to mention what that did to the rest of his family. Vivian considered what might happen when she saw him again.

That he might yell, or worse tell her to get lost in that scary soft tone he always used when he was superangry.

Laughing was unexpected.

Then suddenly he stopped. “You do recall what happened the last time you were under my protection?”

Yes, because she’d been stupid. Vivian shrugged. “I’m guessing you won’t make that mistake again. You were the best at what you did, Joe. I know that, even if no one else does.”

He huffed. “You don’t know anything about me anymore.”

Yes, it had been ten years, but back when they had been together, she had known Joe Hunt.

“I hear that Hunt Investigations has a sound reputation and that you come highly recommended. I did some research before I made the decision to find you.”

She couldn’t read his expression. Maybe pride? Then he closed it down. “Yeah, I’m aces at catching cheating spouses in the act. Just ask anyone. No marriage is safe when Joe Hunt is on the trail.”

“Surely you must work other cases.”

He stared at her hard for a moment and then shook his head. “I don’t think this is a good idea. For either of us. Find someone else.”

“There is no one else!” Vivian blurted out. She felt it. She was losing the battle. Losing him. The thought of that, after she’d had to summon all her courage to see him again, was unthinkable. “No one I trust. No one who can take away the constant feeling that I’m being watched...”

Her breathing got shallow, and she could feel the panting begin, the panic escalating.

Not in front of him. Not in front of him.

“Look at me, Viv. Eyes on me.”

Helpless to resist, she met his eyes and felt his hands on her shoulders to hold her steady.

“Deep breath.” He breathed it in with her. “Another one. Again.”

She repeated the effort until her breathing regulated. Her face, though, was flush with humiliation. She’d hated that lack of control.

“Still get them?”

“Not as much,” she said tightly. In fact she hadn’t had so much as a hiccup in years. Not until she got the first note. Then it all came flooding back.

“It’s the letters. They’re upsetting. The name... No one knew that name, Joe. It’s not possible he’s...”

“He’s dead.”

Vivian nodded. Intellectually she knew that. Three sharp blasts, then the feeling of his blood spilling out of his body and onto her legs. Warming her after she’d been so cold.

She shuddered and tried to focus on the facts. Joe knew he was dead because Joe had killed him.

“Sugarplum,” she muttered. “To this day I can’t even look at a plum in the grocery store. Pathetic I realize, but a fact.”

“Are you sure you never used the name with anyone?” he asked. “Told some reporter at some time? It would have been easy to let it slip. You were constantly being hounded for comments.”

Vivian considered it, but no, it wasn’t possible. She hadn’t been able to say the name at all. When trying to give the federal agents as much detail about the time spent as his prisoner, even thinking the name caused her to shut down completely.

It wasn’t until she’d started therapy with Nicholas that she’d finally been able to recount more of the details of her kidnapping. Something he assured her she needed to do to put it behind her.

But Nicholas wasn’t someone she necessarily wanted to remember, either. She certainly didn’t want to discuss him with Joe. For now she didn’t see the point. Carl and his agents were going to investigate the origin of the letters. Joe was simply the body man she needed to watch her back.

The less said about her time with Nicholas, the better for both of them. Only, there was the small matter of Joe not wanting to take the job.

“I know this is strange,” she began. “For both of us. I know I’m probably the last person you ever wanted to see again, and now I’m asking you for something, as well. You can say no if you hate me that much. It’s okay for you to walk away. But if any part of you remembers who we used to be before it all happened, then I’m asking as your old friend to help me.”

He lifted the remaining glass of whiskey and swallowed it in one gulp.

“Okay. You win. Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

“You remember how it works, Viv? Where you go I go. Which means I’ve got to check out your place.”

Right, Vivian thought. She was taking Joe back to her place.

She could handle that. At least she hoped she could.

* * *

“WHERE’S YOUR BED?”

They were back at her apartment and Joe was moving from room to room. Finally he joined her in the kitchen, and Vivian tried to think straight.

It was hard when part of her wanted to pinch herself. It was surreal to her that he was actually here with her now. Not a dream. Not a memory.

He was certainly older. Some gray was smattered throughout his dark brown hair. A beard grew tight along his jaw. Back in the day the other agents had called him Baby Face Hunt, much to his chagrin. No one could say that now.

Of course, he was still handsome. She’d never expected that to change, and she didn’t think she would ever look at Joe Hunt and think him not handsome. His eyes were still the same. Deep, dark brown and intense. Although now there were lines around the edges, like rings in a tree marking the years of his life.

And when he asked her where her bed was, she felt a pang.

Not good.

A series of thoughts ran through her head. Did he want to take her to bed? Would she let him? Were they finally going to do what she’d felt had been destined for them all those years ago? Was this the thing they could do that would finally close the door on their past and let her move on with her life?

“It’s not an invitation. Just a question,” he elaborated.

Or maybe he just wanted to know where her bed was.

Mentally, Vivian scolded herself. She knew better than to indulge those feelings.

Adolescent crush. Hero worship. Fantasy-based infatuation. These were the terms Nicholas had used to describe her feelings toward Joe. Which in many ways helped. If he hadn’t been that important to her, then it wouldn’t have hurt as much that he left her when she needed him most.

Except he had been. Important. And it had hurt.

Back then.

“I don’t have a bed.”

“From what I can tell, this is a one-bedroom apartment. That room back there is supposed to be the bedroom. All you’ve got in there is some fancy couch, a nightstand and a walk-in closet.”

“It’s a chaise lounge,” she corrected him.

“Whatever. Where do you sleep?”

“I don’t sleep much,” Vivian answered. She didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t want him to see the ripple effects of the kidnapping in her life. She wanted him to see how much she’d changed and grown. Not how much she was still broken.

Half answers had never been enough for him, though, and she could see he was waiting for more.

Vivian shrugged. “I have insomnia.”

“Even insomniacs sleep some of the time.”

“I sleep some, yes. On the couch here. In that leather recliner behind you. Sometimes on the chaise. Whenever my body needs it. You’re not supposed to lie in a bed and not sleep. It develops bad patterns. You begin to associate the bed with not sleeping. I didn’t want to develop any long-term issues with beds in general. Sooner or later I’m going to get over this. Then I’ll need one. For now, no bed.”

“You never used to have a problem sleeping.”

Vivian gave him a look that implied he was being thick.

He nodded. “You haven’t slept in ten years? You look remarkably well, considering.”

“I sleep. I just don’t sleep in a bed.”

“Must be hell on your boyfriends,” he commented, walking past her toward a wall she had filled with framed pictures of herself and her father. She’d once stood next to dignitaries, presidents, congressmen and a queen. She wondered if Joe remembered those times. He’d been at most of those occasions with her.

Then he looked over his shoulder at her with a shitty little grin. “Then again, I guess shrinks don’t have a problem doing it on a couch.”

Wow. A direct hit. She’d been waiting for it. It had to come up sometime. His disdain over what had happened with Nicholas. It was why she’d avoided mentioning his name back at the bar.

Still, she hadn’t been prepared for how much it would hurt. Hadn’t been prepared for him to hurt her so intentionally.

Something he would do only if he hated her.

This had been a mistake, she thought. A mistake to come to him for help. She thought he could make her feel safe. He thought she had ruined his life. Of course he would want to hurt her, punish her.

“You’re right, Joe,” Vivian said calmly. “What a funny joke.”

His expression changed. Almost as if he regretted the words, but it was too late. Now she knew the truth. He really did hate her, which meant she was never going to feel safe with him.

“Vivian...”

“This isn’t going to work.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away from her. “I didn’t mean... I was just...”

“Being an ass? What? You thought reminding me about my scandal would make me laugh?”

If it was possible, Nicholas Rossi had been a bigger mistake than running away from Joe that night.

“Just like that, then? You said you needed me and now I’m expendable.”

“I can’t... I can’t...” She paused and took a deep breath, then another. She was not a weak person, she told herself firmly. She was not. “I can’t do this, Joe. I can’t fight whoever is trying to scare me and you, too. When I found you, I thought I would find...”

Safety and peace. What she’d had before with him before it all shattered. It had been a fool’s errand. A person couldn’t go back.

“Find what?” he asked.

Vivian shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I was wrong. I’m sorry for taking you away from your afternoon bender. You can bill me for your time.”

“What about your phantom stalker?”

She smirked. “Phantom? So you don’t think he’s real? Well, then I guess I’m as safe as I can be.”

“I didn’t say that. The letters are real.”

“They are, but who is to say who sent them? Maybe I sent them to myself. We both know I’m not exactly stable,” she said, a note of hysteria in her rising tone. “Heck, I used to see a shrink, right? Of course, after I seduced him, our sessions were more physical than mental. Not really much time for talking or working out your emotional issues when you’re committing adultery!”

“Calm down, Vivian.”

A typical Joe Hunt command delivered with simplicity and authority. There was never an order he barked that she didn’t obey. Sometimes she used to put up a good fight, but in the end she always capitulated. That was then.

“No, I won’t calm down!”

He moved toward her, and she knew what he would do. Grab her shoulders, make her look him in the eyes, breathe with her. And she didn’t want that again. She didn’t want to remember he could soothe her so easily.

Why had she done this? Why had she opened herself up to all of this again? She never should have gone looking for him.

“No,” she said, backing away from him. “I don’t have to do what you say anymore. Leave. Your services are no longer required.”

For a moment he said nothing, but he didn’t move. She thought he might try to convince her she needed him. He didn’t.

“Whatever you say. You’re the boss. See you around, Viv.”

He went out the front door and closed it slowly behind him.

He’d really left.

Immediately, the atmosphere in her apartment changed from one of comfort and safety to one of emptiness. She was alone again, and she didn’t know if she could bear it.

You were alone before. You’ve been handling this on your own for weeks.

Yes, but it had been horrible. Sleep, which was such a valuable commodity to her anyway, had completely eluded her. She was jumpy and agitated and...

She made bad decisions.

Decisions like finding Joe. Thinking there could be some resolution to their past.

Thinking that...

Go get him. Tell him you need him.

Another bad idea. Only it was getting harder and harder to tell which ideas were good and which were bad.

If she went after him, she would be humiliated.

But she would have him and he would protect her. This she knew for certain.

Except part of the reason she wanted to see him again was to prove to him she had grown up. She was supposed to be an independent, self-confident and mature woman. The fact that on most days she still felt like a scared little girl didn’t matter.

Only the illusion counted. If she went running after him and begged him to come back, he would know she hadn’t changed much in the last ten years. He would see her now as everyone had seen her back then. Needy. Clinging.

If that happened, he would never fall in love with her.

Suddenly Vivian wanted to scream. She wanted to smash everything in her apartment just to hear the sound of it splintering apart. She wanted to see physical evidence of what she felt inside.

Why him?

After the scandal with Nicholas had erupted, Vivian had left DC in shame and humiliation. She found a job and a life in Seattle. Then she found a new therapist, Susan, who had actually helped her work through her issues.

She’d begun to understand her dependence on Joe. Vivian had lost her mother at twelve. The woman who had been the center of her universe. Her father had been governor of Virginia at the time. A busy man with a busy schedule, he’d given Vivian every minute he could, but it hadn’t been close to what she’d had with her mother. Not enough of what she’d needed.

Her father would be heartsick to know what it had done to her every time he left her for work. Every trip he’d needed to take. Every event he’d needed to attend, leaving her alone at night.

The horrible, overwhelming fear that when he left, he might never come back. Like her mother.

Vivian used to think that aside from her panic attacks, she’d conquered her fear fairly well.

It wasn’t until she’d met Joe that she understood she’d only been controlling it. Because it wasn’t until she had met him, the fear finally went away.

Her appointed bodyguard. Her very own security net. It had seemed crazy to her. Until the first time she’d tried to ditch him and couldn’t. They were at some pizza place not far from the White House. She wasn’t sure what had made her do it, but she’d tried to leave through the back door. Maybe to test him. Maybe to tease him. She hadn’t gotten ten feet before he was behind her on the sidewalk.

He didn’t scold her. He didn’t lecture her on the importance of her security. He simply took her back to the restaurant.

That was when she knew. He was never going to let her get into trouble. He would never leave her side.

All reasons why a girl who had lived in fear until that moment would find herself falling in love.

Adolescent crush. Hero worship. Fantasy-based infatuation.

Nicholas had made it seem that what she’d felt for Joe wasn’t real. Then, of course, he’d begun to explain to her what was real.

Vivian dropped her face into her hands, the shame and humiliation of how easily she’d been manipulated washing over her like a wave that never stopped coming. She could move past it, she could not let it affect her life, but she could never forget how gullible she’d been.

Susan had helped her deal with that, as well. She’d called out Nicholas for being an abusive monster, preying on a victim when she was at her weakest. That was true, but Vivian had to be honest with herself. She’d let Nicholas seduce her, she’d let him screw her. She’d done it to hurt Joe.

Because Joe had left her.

Eventually, she forgave herself. For everything. Susan had helped her to understand emotions more clearly. If you loved, you loved. If you hated, you hated. If you were afraid, you were afraid, and if you were sad, you were sad. Pretending to feel something else when the other feelings were in charge was a quick way to an ulcer.

So Vivian let herself be sad. She let herself cry because Joe was gone, even though she had told him to leave. Finally she picked herself up, dried her tears and thought about what came next.

She would start looking for another investigator in the morning. Perhaps a woman would be a better option. At least it was a plan.

Changing into some flannel pajamas, Vivian set her cell on the nightstand so it was close at hand. Then she reclined on the chaise lounge as the strain of the day caught up with her.

She hadn’t slept at all last night, and she was exhausted. Concentrating on taking deep, slow, even breaths, Vivian felt herself drift off. The sound of her home phone ringing from the other room penetrated, but she had no intention of risking what might be actual sleep to answer it.

Whoever it was could leave a message.

CHAPTER FOUR

“HAIL TO THE CHIEF.”

The song broke through her sleep. Vivian lifted her head and reached for her cell phone on the nightstand. It was just after one in the morning. Only her father would think to call her at this time of night, and the ringtone proved it.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Oh, baby, were you actually sleeping and I woke you up? You’re never asleep at this hour.”

It was true. If she did manage to get a couple of hours in, it was usually between four and seven. Somehow, knowing dawn was approaching made it easier to sleep.

“I know, but don’t be upset.” Vivian looked at the time again and considered how long she’d been out. “I had four solid hours. That’s a lot for me. What’s up? How are the China negotiations?”

“They would be going a lot better if everyone in the room simply listened to me.”

Vivian smiled as she sat up. “There’s a surprise. Alan Bennett thinks he knows what’s best for everyone.”

“I can’t help it if it’s true. But I didn’t call for that. I want an update on the letter situation. I’m not happy they assigned Mather to review your case. He is incompetent. I’ve been thinking we should approach this from a different angle. Have someone privately look into the matter.”

Vivian almost chuckled. Great minds did think alike. Although she doubted her father would have approved her choice for bodyguard/investigator. All Vivian had to do was mention Joe’s name and her father would immediately look like he needed to hit something.

Another reason why letting Joe go was probably a smart idea. She couldn’t imagine her father would ever accept him as part of her life. Any part.

“I’ve considered that, too, Daddy. I’ll start researching investigators tomorrow. See if I can find someone I’m comfortable with.”

Because that had been the plan, right? Certainly not to go groveling back to Joe. She had her pride, and he’d insulted her. That was way more important than her peace of mind. And her father didn’t like him, and...

And when he’d asked where her bed was, she’d imagined something happening between them, and that was more dangerous to her peace of mind than her stalker.

“Okay. I want a list of names next time I call. I’ll have them properly vetted. In the meantime, I’m going to talk to the director of the service and see if I can’t get him to assign someone more qualified than Mather to investigate.”

Mather was how her father referred to Carl after the kidnapping. Carl hadn’t shouldered anywhere close to the blame Joe had, but her father’s opinion of the man had lowered significantly. Despite trying to explain to her father for years that Carl had nothing to do with her kidnapping, she’d never been able to convince him.

Vivian sometimes wondered who had it worse. Joe for losing his job, or Carl for keeping his but forever being known in the agency to his superiors as That Carl. At least Joe had gone on to have something for himself, with no one to answer to.

She wondered if her father would even mention that Carl had seen Joe today. Had questioned him in a formal capacity as a person of interest. Doubtful, since he probably knew it would upset her and he wouldn’t want to have that fight. Not over Joe. Not again, when they hadn’t had it in so many years.

“I’ll get some names and figure out what to do from here,” she said. “You worry about saving the world and making it a better place for mankind.”

“I can multitask. I’ll be back in a few days for Christmas. Speaking of which, there is an event at the end of this week I would like you to attend with me. A fund-raiser for underprivileged children in DC. The president will be in attendance and he’s asked me to come.”

Vivian was about to agree.

“Jefferson will be there, as well,” her father added before she could reply.

Right. Jefferson Caldwell, junior congressman from northern Virginia’s district ten. He was handsome, he was charming, but most important he was single and looking for a politically suitable wife.

Despite her scandal, Vivian fit the bill of a suitable political wife with the appropriate political pedigree. She’d met Jefferson on a handful of occasions, all arranged by her father. He’d seemed nice and considerate, but she hadn’t felt any spark. Nothing like what she’d felt upon seeing Joe again. The instant attraction. The need to touch any part of him so she was connected to him. The desire to hear him speak, the comfort of having him listen.

There had been a few other men in her life in the last ten years. Nice men. Kind men, other than Nicholas.

One she had liked very much, but as soon as he’d started to hint at marriage she’d called it off, knowing instinctively that wasn’t what she wanted from him. Companionship, yes. Commitment, no.

Adolescent crush. Hero worship. Fantasy-based infatuation.

Or love.

It didn’t matter what anyone called it, Vivian could only speak to how it felt. Maybe now that she’d seen him again, had said what she’d wanted to say to him, it would start to fade.

Their relationship ten years ago had ended with an abrupt separation. Because of that, she’d never been able to move beyond those feelings. There had been no resolution to them. Now there was. She’d said she was sorry. He’d said she ruined his life.

Then he’d hurt her. Intentionally. Spitefully.

Now they were over for good. Which meant she had to consider what she wanted her future to be. She wanted love, a husband, children.

None of that was going to happen with Joe Hunt.

“It will be lovely to see him again,” Vivian said after a beat. Maybe it would be. For the first time she might be able to look at a man and not compare him with Joe. Accept him at face value for who he was.

“Excellent. Then it’s a plan. I love you, sweetie.”

“Love you, too, Daddy.”

“Try to get some more sleep—that’s an order.”

Vivian smiled. “Yes, sir.”

Although even as she disconnected the call she knew it wasn’t going to happen. Her brain was fully awake and she actually felt refreshed. As if her sleep had been deep and steady where usually she tossed and turned and slept in short bursts.

Leaving her bedroom, she headed into the kitchen to scrounge for some food. A plan of hot chocolate and a late-night movie was already starting to form. Vivian stopped, though, when she saw the blinking light on her home phone.

Few people called her on her home phone, as her friends and employees all had her cell.

The automated voice told her she had two new messages. Wow, she thought. She’d been so out of it she hadn’t even heard it ring the second time. Actual sound sleep.

“Vivian, this is Jefferson. I had hoped to catch you at home.”

See, she told herself, he sounds perfectly normal. A deep voice with a hint of a Southern accent. There was no reason not to find this man attractive. Except when he’d asked for her phone number, she had purposely given him only her house number, not the cell she always had with her. There was always a sense of distance. Susan used to call these behaviors her barriers. Vivian had always been inclined to build them around herself. The kidnapping had only made that worse.

“I would like to extend you an invitation to a Christmas fund-raising event. I’m sure your father will be there, too, but...well, I would like you to come as my date. The three of us, of course, can sit together.”

“Of course we can sit together. Otherwise you lose the chance at a photo-op,” she muttered, then immediately winced. She was supposed to be keeping an open mind. It was just that she couldn’t help but feel as if Jefferson’s interest in her had more to do with her name than her.

It had been the way he’d casually brought up the scandal when they had first met. How she had been a victim. Vulnerable after having survived such a horrific event. Nicholas Rossi had been the villain and should have been treated by the country as such.

The American people must realize that now in hindsight. That was what Jefferson had said.

As if the American people cared at all about a ten-year-old affair, no matter whom she was.

The former president’s grown daughter was of no interest to the American people. However, as the wife of an up-and-coming congressman, that could change. Suddenly the name Bennett would be back in the political spotlight.

Spin.

His words had felt like spin to her, as if he were already spinning how he would handle any questions related to her very public affair with Nicholas.

Vivian had left DC to stop the spinning.

“Please call me...”

She hit the number to end and save the message, cutting Jefferson off in midsentence. She didn’t have the strength to deal with him yet, so the best thing she could do was put him off. Tomorrow she would play the message again and see if the sound of his voice didn’t make her cringe, make her think of reporters, cameras and fake smiles. Everything politics was and everything she was not. For now she had to admit she was a little oversensitive.

“Second message.”

At first there was nothing. Possibly a hang-up or a wrong number. Then the buzz of a conversation played as if on speaker and Vivian could hear people in the background.

“Why did he do it? Can you tell us that?”

“No. I don’t know why he did it. He said he wanted to make me clean. He said he loved me.”

“Do you think he loved you?”

“I think he was crazy.”

For a moment Vivian didn’t understand what she was hearing. It was her voice on the phone. Her voice and Katy Thurman’s, the CBS correspondent.

This was the interview. The only interview she’d done after the kidnapping. The one her father had insisted she do, to give the country closure. She’d considered it torture having to share publicly everything she had lived through, because it meant living through it again. Only this time with people watching. As if they could actually see her naked and tied to a chair. Bloody and bruised. No one ever wanted to be that vulnerable. Certainly not her.

But she hadn’t been able to say no to her father when he was telling her it was something the American people needed from her.

“How do I ask this without sounding like a monster? Is there a part of you that is relieved he was killed? That you don’t have to suffer through a trial where you would have to confront him every day?”

“I’m just glad I’ll never have to hear his voice again.”

There was a pause. Long enough that Vivian might have thought to delete the message if she hadn’t been focused on trying to breathe past the panic that had gripped her chest. Then she heard it. It was faint and distant, not as loud as the replay of the interview had been. But she definitely heard it.

“Sugarplum. I love you.”

This time the surge of fear propelled her into action. She pulled the phone off the counter. The plug flew out of the socket and the light on the handset dimmed. She stood there with it in her hands as if it were a snake ready to bite her. She considered tossing it in the trash but realized it didn’t make a difference what she did with it.

She’d gotten the message.

McGraw was still alive. He had to be. It was the only explanation—that was his voice. Maybe Joe only thought he had killed him. Maybe McGraw had been in a coma all this time and had just woken up.

Vivian giggled in a near-hysterical state. She was starting to sound like a writer for a soap opera. McGraw was dead. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember that night. It wasn’t a place she often went back to. Her memories were hazy and disjointed. Like clips of a movie she’d never seen from beginning to end.

She was cold. So cold. McGraw was screaming. At her and at Joe.

Shots. Then the sound of Joe’s voice.

“You’re going to be okay.”

“Joe?”

“I’m here, baby. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“I’m so cold.”

Vaguely, she recalled Joe carrying her outside the room where she’d been held. He’d set her down on a chair and kneeled in front of her.

“I’m naked.”

“Shh. Shh.”

“I don’t want you to see me this way.”

“It’s okay, baby. You’re safe with me. Will someone get me a damn blanket!”

“I don’t want you to see me this way. Please, Joe. Help me.”

At her plea, he’d taken off his Secret Service–issued windbreaker and pulled it over her head. She remembered thinking she wanted to crawl inside it and never come out.

There had been agents all around her barking orders. Everything so loud and chaotic it was hard to focus. Until she understood that if she was sitting with Joe, it meant The Hand was dead. She’d wanted to see the body. She remembered needing to be sure.

She’d gotten up and run back into the room before Joe could stop her. FBI agents were standing over the body, and she shoved one from behind to move him out of way.

Then she saw him. Harold McGraw. On the floor at her feet. The knife he’d pricked her with for days an inch or two from his hands. Blood pooled out from underneath him and he didn’t move. He never moved. Then Joe was lifting her again, and carrying her out of the room, his arms secured tightly around her.

“Don’t look.”

“I need to see. I need to know.”

“It’s over. Everything is going to be okay now. I promise.”

“He’s really dead?”

“He’s dead.”

Over his shoulder she’d watched McGraw the whole time as Joe carried her back out of the cabin, waiting to see if he would get up, waiting to see if he would come after her.

He never moved. Not an inch.

He was dead.

Vivian blinked away the memories. Because now she had to question all of it. Her memories, the sound of the gunshots. What if McGraw wasn’t dead? The only person she knew to tell was the person who was supposed to have killed him.

Vivian bolted into action. She ran back to her room and pulled on an old pair of jeans, a sweater and some boots. Dashing toward her front door, she noticed the clock in the kitchen and remembered it was the middle of the night.

It didn’t matter. She had proof. She had a message with his voice on it. She couldn’t have made that up. Joe needed to hear it. He needed to tell her she was wrong and it wasn’t McGraw’s voice because he was dead. Because Joe had killed him.

Grabbing her coat and purse, she opened the door and sprinted out into the hallway. Only she didn’t get very far. Someone was sitting outside her door, waiting for her.

The feel of a hand wrapping around her ankle paralyzed her at first. Then she began to scream.

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