First Lady (42 page)
Lauren gasped, then felt her knees begin to melt.
Dev sucked harder.
“No hickeys!” Lauren squealed, half-heartedly. One red mark on her neck, and she’d have her excuse to stay in tonight, and she was fairly certain that with a few kisses and well-placed caresses her lovely partner could be persuaded to join her.
Regretfully, and after a tender kiss to skin only lightly tinted with Devlyn’s lipstick, the President lifted her head. She sighed dramatically, making it very clear that she was more interested in feasting on Lauren’s throat than a bland State dinner. “You were sent here by the Republican Party to ruin me, weren’t you?” She lifted an accusing eyebrow.
Lauren arched one right back. “How did you know?”
Haughtily, Dev sniffed. “I’m not a woman to be trifled with. I’m—”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re the President. Somehow I hadn’t forgotten since the last time you told me.” The banter was familiar and easy, and Lauren felt a good part of her unease begin to disappear.
Devlyn smiled and went to the bed to retrieve both of their small black purses. She was never sure why she brought one, knowing that she would hand it to an aide for safe keeping as soon as she arrived at the dinner. And that she’d never be able to locate that particular aide again, until it was time to go. It was always the same.
“If you need me,” Dev held up her hands to give Lauren a good look at her, “Look for the suit.” It was a narrowly fitted, perfectly cut, bright malachite-colored pantsuit that would certainly stand out in a crowd.
Just like its beautiful owner, Lauren thought fondly. “I’ll keep that in mind and aim for Armani.”
“May I escort you to dinner?” Devlyn bowed gallantly, causing Lauren to chuckle.
She was about to say “of course” when she stopped. Lauren really didn’t want to go this very second. She wanted to play and she wanted something else, and both of those things, she decided, were worth pushing herself a tiny bit beyond her normal comfort zone. Besides, it was something she suspected her spouse would enjoy even more than she would. She gave Devlyn a sexy smile, and instead of answering Dev’s question, she posed one of her own.
“Do you know how badly my fingers are itching to get to the beautiful body beneath that suit you’re wearing?” Her hand drifted down her own abdomen, her fingers suggestively dancing across cool silk.
Devlyn’s mouth went as dry as the desert in less than a millisecond, and Lauren fought hard not to laugh out loud at the stunned but totally interested expression. “Ummm—” Dev swallowed and tried again, her eyes riveted to Lauren’s hand. “Ummm—”
Luckily, Lauren wasn’t really looking for a verbal response. “Devlyn?”
Electric-blue eyes snapped up to meet Lauren’s, their pupils already dilated.
“Do you know how much I love and want you, Devlyn?” She let out a breathy sigh, and her hand reached up to cup her own breast. “It makes me crazy sometimes.”
Dev’s hands went limp and, with twin thumps, the purses hit the floor.
A low groan bubbled up from Lauren’s chest and she slowly licked her lips, giving her own breast a firm squeeze. “I can’t think of anything more divine than slowly undressing you, then kissing,” another squeeze, “and licking,” this time she pinched her nipple and wasn’t sure whether it was her or Devlyn that whimpered, “and wrapping my lips around—”
Lauren’s words were cut off by the impact of a flying body. Their mouths crushed together in a fiery display of passion and raw want as loud, lusty moans filled the room. Long moments later, as a hot tongue caressed her throbbing jugular, Devlyn fuzzily, but finally, figured out the allure of being fashionably late.
*
*
*
Lauren took her place at the top of the executive grand staircase, which led into the State Dining Room, and was greeted by two hundred pairs of expectant eyes. She smiled weakly at the crowd below, saying a mental “thank you” when Devlyn moved away from her security team to join her.
The President blinked a few times, moistening dry eyes.
“How late are we?” Lauren managed to ask, without moving her lips.
Dev smiled down at the Secretary of Veterans’ Affairs and his wife. The man raised his glass in silent tribute to Devlyn, and for a second the President just knew she had to be wearing a big old, lovesick, “I just had fabulous sex with my equally fabulous wife” smile on her face. She lifted her chin a little higher, deciding that that was about the best reason to smile she could think of. “I don’t care how late we are,” she murmured back. While it wasn’t quite the truth — Devlyn was, and always would be, compulsive about her responsibilities — just this once she was willing to cut herself a little slack. “Extra time and a few stolen kisses with you is worth giving all the apologies in the world for, Lauren. It was time well spent.”
Dev turned her head and smiled at Lauren with so much heartfelt happiness and love that, for a moment, Lauren’s vision was blurred with unshed tears.
“Ready?” Dev whispered.
“No.”
“Perfect.” But Devlyn stood her ground, allowing the dozens of photographs of them to be taken, all as she surveyed the landscape of the room.
Lauren marveled at Devlyn’s calm, powerful presence. The eyes that had been trained on her only a few seconds before were all now firmly resting on one very presidential spot. Guts were sucked in, shoulders thrown back, and conversations hushed all around the room the instant Devlyn took her place by Lauren’s side. It was more than protocol or manners; Devlyn was the kind of leader whose presence alone commanded everyone’s undivided attention.
The guests’ expressions ranged from envy to awe when they took in the sight of Devlyn and Lauren standing together. Lauren felt a surge of pride for her partner, and a smile bloomed on her lips, despite her own niggling apprehension.
The music that had been playing stopped, and arm in arm they started walking, the Marine Honor Guard leading the way. She felt Dev’s hold on her hand tighten as they descended the stairs.
“Ladies and gentleman, and honored guests,” a deep, disembodied voice announced.
“The President of the
United States
and Ms. Lauren Strayer.”
While many women kept their maiden name after they married, never had Lauren felt so conspicuous about doing so. Several nasty looks from some of the older guests below told her they would have much rather heard “Mrs. Marlowe” announced. She wondered briefly if they would have had collective aneurysms had Devlyn taken the name Strayer upon their marriage. Heh.
The reception line loomed large and long before them and Lauren plastered on what she hoped would be a permanent smile. Devlyn’s, she noted, was wholly genuine, almost to the point of beaming. No wonder she continuously works herself to the point of exhaustion. She loves this.
It took nearly 20 minutes to traverse the reception line, and when they reached the end Lauren couldn’t help but let out a long, relieved breath. She heard her spouse’s chuckles from a few feet away. “Tell me you’re not glad,” she said discreetly, her voice playful.
“Oh, I’m glad.” Devlyn steered her towards the large, formally set banquet table, knowing that they would need to stop and mingle for at least a half an hour along the way. “I just hide it better.”
Dev caught sight of David and Beth across the room and watched as David approached her with a grin on his face while Beth appeared far less pleased.
“Hello, Madam President, Ms. Strayer,” David greeted formally, looking dapper in his tuxedo, his thick, red hair slicked straight back.
Dev could tell by the expectant look on her chief of staff’s face that he had something to discuss with her, and she sucked in an excited breath in anticipation.
David clasped his hands behind his back and rocked back on his heels as he turned his head to address Beth and Lauren. “Will you ladies excuse us, please?”
“Yes,” Beth said tartly. “Go. I don’t want to look at either one of you.”
David’s shoulders slumped just a tiny bit, and his gaze softened as he looked at his wife. “Beth—?”
“Go on,” she interrupted, but managed to give her husband a resigned bump with her hip. “Go so Lauren and I can say terrible things about you both while you’re gone.”
“Am I not going to like what you’re going to say?” Dev wondered out loud. That was not what the piratical gleam in David’s eyes had told her. She cocked her head in question.
“You’re going to love it,” David gushed, his enthusiasm instantly restored despite his wife’s sour face. The tall man led Devlyn over to a quiet corner where they stood, heads tilted towards one another in conspiracy as they talked.
“What are they in trouble for?” Lauren asked, accepting a drink from a server. “Thank you.”
Gesturing with her chin, Beth indicated the area next to an enormous vase of flowers that sat on a white marble stand.
It was a relatively quiet area and would allow them a moment of modest privacy without Lauren appearing anti-social. Beth leaned forward to smell the flowers as she spoke. “You didn’t have plans for your Sunday, did you?”
Lauren’s eyes slammed shut.
“You’re cursing in your head, aren’t you?”
“Yes!” Lauren groaned. “What now?” She found herself wanting to wail and barely resisted the impulse. “She needs a day off!”
“Take it easy.” Beth moved a little closer to her friend and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I know she does. And you probably do, too. But I can guarantee that Devlyn won’t be relaxing by the pool this weekend.”
Lauren pulled an orchid from the bouquet and examined its delicate petals with unseeing eyes. “I know when to say I’ve had enough. She doesn’t.” Her jaw tensed as she replaced the flower, its delicate heady scent going completely unnoticed. “I seem to recall her taking off at least most of every Sunday. Now even getting her to do that is like pulling teeth. She’s burning the candle at both ends.”
“You’re telling me? David’s only a little better, and that’s only because I outright threatened to divorce him if he didn’t spend a little time at home. God help us if he actually lived where he worked, too.” Beth turned to see Devlyn, who was smiling broadly and patting David on the back. “But emergencies do come up.”
“There’s always an emergency.” Lauren’s face darkened. “And I won’t do that to her, Beth. I’m not above playing dirty, but she’s already worried that she’ll do something that will make me leave her. I won’t threaten her with that and add to her stress.”
If Beth was surprised, she didn’t show it. “I’m glad.” She finished the last of her champagne and looked around for a place to deposit her glass. She decided to keep it in her hand when she realized she’d have to move to set it down. “Devlyn needs to be reassured that you’re not going to disappear on her, Lauren.” Her eyebrows knitted when her mind was involuntary drawn back to a very dark time in their lives. “I don’t think she’d live through it if you did.”
“That’s not something Devlyn has to worry about,” Lauren informed her. The resolute quality of her voice left no room for doubt. “But her health, family, and well-being are.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you.” Beth ran a hand through her dark curls. “But I don’t know what to say about this weekend. David just got word that Sheik Haroun Yousif has finally agreed to come to the negotiating table. And he wants to do it tomorrow, with Dev and Secretary of State Jared Ortiz as mediators. Nothing is going to stop her from being there.”
“Jesus. He said he’d never negotiate!” Lauren finished the contents of her glass in one long swallow, irrationally angry with a man she’d never met.
“I know. But it looks like if it’s going to happen at all, it’s this Sunday at
Camp David
.”
Lauren studied the bottom of her glass for a moment. “I can’t ask her not to take part in that. It’s what she and so many others have been working on for months.” She glanced up at Beth with a lost expression on her face. “But it’s always something important, isn’t it? She can never give enough.”
Beth sighed. “She’s a strong leader who hasn’t accepted her own limitations because she doesn’t believe she’s reached them.”
“She’s not just a leader, Beth. She’s a friend and a mother and a million other things that don’t stop demanding her time just because some land-grabbing bastard has finally decided he’d like to spend the weekend at
Camp David
.”
“Lauren!” Beth glanced around again, but Lauren’s voice was so low that she’d barely heard her herself. “You’d better hope nobody around here can read lips.”
“She can’t keep this pace up.”
“Then you’d better prepare for a fight.”
Lauren nodded grimly. “I can’t bear the thought of her hurting herself.”
Beth’s smile was as gentle and reassuring as she could make it. “Neither can I. I’ll help all that I can.”
Lauren gave her friend a quick hug. “I know you will. And I think I’m going to need all the help I can get.” She pulled away and surveyed the milling crowd that was, in small groups, starting to work its way near the dinner table. “Time to make nice with the guests?”
“If we want to eat before
.”