Fatal Scandal: Book Eight of the Fatal Series Read Free Page B

much to him. She had a reputation to maintain, after all.
    “I can see the gerbils working overtime on the treadmill as you try to convince yourself to let go and roll with it,” he said, amusement dancing in his eyes.
    “You can see no such thing.”
    “Whatever you say, babe. Any minute now there’ll be smoke pouring out your ears.”
    He knew her better than anyone ever had—better than anyone ever would. Her inclination at first had been to fight that, to preserve a piece of herself so she’d survive if things between them didn’t work out. Now, after a year with him, she had faith it would work out and knew for certain she’d never survive without him.
    “Now what’re you thinking?”
    “You tell me. You’re the one with ESP.”
    He studied her intently, making her squirm ever so slightly in her chair. “You’re thinking that you love me so much it’s not even funny, and you can’t wait until we get home to the one place where there’re no prying eyes so you can have your wicked way with me. Am I close?”
    “If you hadn’t already told me how easy I am, I’d tell you you’re delusional. But we know better, don’t we?”
    “Yes, we do.” Smiling, he raised his glass to her. “To my gorgeous, sexy, exasperating,
easy
wife, I love you more than anything, and I can’t wait to see what our second year together will entail.”
    Charmed and touched by his sweet words, she touched her glass to his and took a sip of the dry, chilled bubbly. “Mmm, that’s good.”
    “Drink up. I’ve got plans for later, and I need you uninhibited.” He waggled his brows suggestively, which had her squirming in her chair for a whole other reason.
    Sam glanced toward the far side of the large room where four Secret Service agents were seated at a table talking quietly and pretending they weren’t watching them. She knew others were positioned outside, creating a perimeter of protection all around them. If she allowed herself to think too much about being surrounded every time she was with her husband, she’d lose her mind. So she chose not to think about it—most of the time.
    “Pretend they’re not here,” Nick said. “Focus on me.”
    Focusing on his exquisitely handsome face was certainly no hardship. Mario plied them with four courses of delicious food and wine and more champagne before he carried out a flaming soufflé for dessert.
    “So, are you going to tell me how the deposition went today?” he asked as they dug into the soufflé with two spoons.
    “How do you think it went? I had to relive the nightmare day when Melissa came into our house with a bomb strapped to her chest.”
    “Did it take all day?”
    “Yep. Her lawyers were nothing if not thorough.”
    “And I’m sure you were unrepentant.”
    “You’re damn right I was. I don’t regret anything I did that day. She can sue us all she wants, but I did my job and I have no doubt that Freddie and I saved all our lives that day.”
    “I was there. I can attest to that. What happens now?”
    “Who knows? They take my deposition, and the whole thing goes away until it rears its ugly head again. I’m not giving it another thought until I have to.” Eager to change the subject, Sam said, “You know what the good thing is about your detail?”
    “Is there a good thing?”
    “Yep. We can get totally hammered, and they have to drive us home.”
    “That isn’t a bad thing. Are you totally hammered?”
    “I think I might be. Are you?”
    “Nope. I paced myself.”
    “Always in control, aren’t you?”
    He gazed at her meaningfully. “Not always.”
    Sam’s bite of soufflé got stuck in her throat. The reminder that she was the one person who could break his legendary control made her want to go home immediately. “Is it time to go?”
    “Not quite yet.” He fed her another bite. “Want to dance?”
    Sam looked over at the Secret Service detail. The three men and one woman were done eating and were monitoring them without actually