Read The Gentlewoman Online

Authors: Lisa Durkin

The Gentlewoman (3 page)

She was ready to get the conversation off herself. It had
taken Landon weeks to talk her into accepting the appointment after the former
congressman from her district was arrested with hookers and enough alcohol and
drugs in his system to embalm him. Landon had pushed the party and governor to
replace him with somebody who cared about the region and the people, and who
was electable. That person had been Rory, even when she didn’t know if she had
her heart completely in it after all that had happened to her. Landon and the
party pushed and they were right. All it took to get her into the game was for
the first reporter to cut into her with, “Why should we give her the job when
she didn’t even know her husband was a criminal?” Her teeth bared.
Nobody
cared more for northern Ohio than she did, and if they wanted the right
representation, they’d go with Rory Morgan.

Dorn began to talk about his journey. “Well, as you pointed
out today, after my wealthy upbringing, I decided I needed to step out of the
Dorn mold of businessmen politicians so I went to the academy after completing
Princeton. I spent fifteen years chasing bad guys and made a good name for
myself at home in Maine. I finally felt the need to run for Congress five years
ago. I’ve been here fighting for Maine ever since.”

Rory had tensed. “What academy, FBI?”

“Yes, I was an agent.”

“Oh, but not for five years?”
How much did he know?

“Not for five years. Would you like a beer? I’m having
another.” She smiled and nodded. He might not know all her secrets.

She followed him to the sofa and he held his hand out for
her to sit. To her surprise, he sat down close and turned to face her, intently
studying her face. She felt self-conscious in her running gear.

“So you run a lot? What else do you like to do?” He measured
her with those baby-blues.

“I do run a lot. It keeps me in shape. I also do some
kayaking at home. That’s all I do, except work.” Not very impressive, she
admonished herself.

“Kayak? Where do you kayak?”

“Well, I’ve kayaked on both the Atlantic and Pacific. But
mostly when I’m home, I walk out my back door and drag a rig into Lake Erie and
take off.” She said this with a great smile and flourish.

“Ohio. I’ve never been. It’s never sounded like somewhere
people want to go.” He was grinning and obviously looking to get a rise out of
her.

“Oh, well, you should visit because you are really missing
out. I live in Bay Village, right outside Cleveland. Schools are top ten in the
nation, cost of living is incredibly low, and the beer and rock ’n’ roll are
always flowing. Not like Portland, Maine. I was there several years back and
couldn’t find anything to do after dark. The whole town seemed to go to bed.”
Actually she’d loved Portland. It was really beautiful.

She couldn’t seem to stop herself from flirting. It was so
hot the way he was gazing at her. He had the reputation of a gigolo anyway.

She wondered what it would be like to sleep with Jackson
Dorn. He was rumored to have had plenty of lovers. She’d only had one lover
since her husband. It had been to try to get past her marriage, if she was
being honest with herself. Shane Sutton, the FBI agent assigned to cover her in
case her in-laws struck back after she killed Aidan. She had known Shane was
interested. He was like a puppy dog following her around. She had decided to
try with him, to see if she could return to some semblance of normalcy. When
she had slept with him, she had her answer. She could still fuck, but the rest
of her was completely numb. The pangs of loneliness soon intensified. Sex had
to be enough because happily ever after didn’t exist. It was okay with Shane
for a while, until he wanted to couple up. Then she had sent him packing. She
told the FBI to go to hell. She didn’t need Shane or them. She had been numb
ever since.

“Yes, I agree people in Portland close it down early. It’s a
very sleepy town,” he stated.

“Wonder what else there is that’s fun to do in Portland?”
She was horny; she admitted it. Maybe she should let go and get laid.

He was staring at her. She could tell he was mentally
weighing his options after the mood swings she had displayed in the car.

He leaned in and looked down at her lips. “I’m going to kiss
you, Morgan. If you don’t want me to…” He put his hand on the back of her head
and pulled her toward him gently. His lips slowly touched hers. They were very
warm and soft, and she felt an electric transfer of heat. He pulled back and
looked at her quizzically. He kissed her again, deeper and harder, leaning into
her. He pulled back again. He looked very deeply into her eyes and she saw a
look of questioning. A strong wave of desire rushed through her, the likes of
which she had never felt before.

She started and froze. She couldn’t do this. It felt like
too much and she didn’t have anything inside to spend. As bad as it sucked, she
pulled back. His eyes widened and after a deep breath he looked away. When he
turned to her again he had a calm smile on his face.

“I should go. It’s getting late.”

“Okay, I understand.” They walked to the door together.

“Thanks for dinner.”

“No, thank you, you bought.” He smiled.

“Catch you later,” she said as she walked out the door.

“Good night, Rory,” he said, closing the door.

Damn. She needed to stay away from Jackson Dorn.

Chapter Two

 

It was Saturday and Rory was working to make her condo more
livable. She liked her new place. It had all the requisite dark maple hardwood
floors and white crown molding. The walls were muted apricot and it had a nice
warm feel. The kitchen was open and had maple cabinets and pot lighting, with
beige-and-black granite countertops. She unpacked the boxes room by room and by
Saturday evening had a pretty well-organized kitchen, bedroom and closets. She
had no living room or bedroom furniture, and decided she needed to do something
about that before she got too busy with the work of Congress. She had been
sleeping on a mattress and box spring that were delivered with her boxes, and
that was quickly getting old. Time to be more domesticated, less early college
years. She headed out the door.

“Hello, Congresswoman, what are you up to today?” Jackson
smiled brightly as he walked to his door and unlocked it.

“I was unpacking and making the place habitable. How about
you?” She tried to sound friendly.

“I was at the office, several things I needed to get done
there before the session’s in full swing and my committees require all my time.
Where are you off to?”

She started to feel guilty. Maybe she should have been at
work all day. She couldn’t let other people get ahead of her.

“I’m headed out to pick out some furniture. I figure I might
want to sit down at some point.” She blushed as she checked the contents of her
purse.

He looked up from the mail he was sorting through. “That
sounds fun. Can I come along? We could get some dinner together.”

That sounds fun?
She gazed up at him. This guy was
trying to cozy up to her, and for more than what his reputation was famous for.

“Sure, if you’d really like to. I’d like the company.”
Congressman Dorn might think she was a babe in the woods, but she would have
fun figuring out his game. Plus, he was a nice piece of eye candy.

“Great, hang out for ten minutes while I change?” He held
open his door for her.

When he emerged, she was sitting at the kitchen bar sorting
through emails on her iPhone. Her breath caught at the hot congressman in jeans
and a navy-blue cable sweater.

“You don’t have a car, do you, Morgan?”

“No, not in DC. I thought I’d just use the Metro.”

“That might prove challenging once you get into the swing of
the session. There’re lots of different meetings scheduled across the city.
It’ll keep you running. You may want to think about it. Or lots of people use a
car service.”

“Is that what you do?” He held the door open for her.

“Well, I have a car here, but I use a service for work
during the session. It’s faster than trying to find parking.” He directed her
out the back door of the building to the parking area behind a small green
space. He clicked the key fob in his hand and a blue BMW answered. He opened
the passenger door for her.

“I guess I didn’t think about that.”

“Hungry, Morgan? I’m famished. Would you mind if we eat
first?”

“That sounds great. I am kind of hungry.”

“Good, I know a great little restaurant in DuPont Circle if
you don’t mind Italian?”

“Sounds good. So what committees are you working with this
session?” She thought she sounded casual.

“My usual. I’m chair of several of the subcommittees on
Homeland, and I sit on Energy and Commerce and Appropriations.” He gracefully
swung the car through the early evening traffic. He might be a good ally to
have in her corner after all. “What committees are you looking to serve with?”

“I was hoping for Energy and Commerce myself. I’m also
interested in Health and Human Services.”

He glanced at her as they pulled up to a red light. “There’s
an opening on Energy and Commerce. You may be a good fit, a freshman from a
swing state. I’d back you.”

“Thanks, Dorn.” That was all she could manage as she looked
into his eyes. That was too easy, and she wondered what he’d want in return.
She decided to wait for it, make him ask.

They continued to talk until they arrived at the restaurant.
The place was packed, with the Saturday night crowd in full swing. She was
wondering how long they’d have to wait for a table, as Jackson sauntered up to
the hostess. He flashed his beautiful white smile, and asked her if there was
anything available right away. The hostess, a tall thin blonde in a very
low-cut black evening dress, all but swooned and checked the book behind the
counter. Rory rolled her eyes when the hostess looked up and giggled.

“Right this way, Congressman Dorn.”

They were led through the packed restaurant and several
people turned to shake hands with Dorn. Rory went seemingly unnoticed to the
men and one or two women he exchanged pleasantries with.

They were seated and a waiter came immediately to take their
drink order. “I feel a little underdressed,” she confessed, looking around.

“Don’t worry, there’s really no dress code here.”

She picked up her menu. “Come here often, do you?”

“I come here occasionally.”

“On your numerous dates?”

“My reputation precedes me, I see. Yes, I like to go out and
have fun.” He chuckled.

“You do have quite the reputation. I believe they call you
Playboy Dorn.”

“Yes, Playboy Dorn. I’m a playboy because I go on some dates
and throw parties on occasion.”

“Well, there’s also the rumored sex-capades. Don’t forget
about those,” she answered with a smile on her face.

“Don’t believe everything you hear, Morgan. You know that.”
He set his menu down and looked around. “I haven’t had anywhere near the amount
of fun the media and gossips give me credit for.”

The waiter returned. Rory ordered the lobster-stuffed
ravioli while Jackson chose the lasagna and ordered a crisp dry pinot grigio to
accompany the food.

As they started on their salads and bread, she pressed
further. “So you’re trying to tell me that you’re not the sexual rogue the
rumors give you credit for?” She couldn’t seem to stop herself.

“Well, I’m no angel, but no, I’m not the man-whore they make
me out to be. I think it’s just because it’s novel to have a single congressman.
You’ll see. They’ll start tracking your companions as well.”

She laughed. “There won’t be any companions for me. I’m just
here to work.”

“Well you’re going to have to give yourself a break every
once in a while. Otherwise you’ll burn out and do no good here. And what about
the social activities you’ll need to attend? You’ll need an escort to those.
Half the deals in Congress are made at dinner parties and happy hours.”

“Is a set of testicles mandatory for admission?”

He laughed hard, throwing his head back. “No, but it’s
customary. Come to think of it, we haven’t had a single congresswoman in the
recent past. Or at all that I can think of.” He tried to recall such a
situation. “Well, this ought to give the gossips something to talk about, two
unmarried folks in Congress at the same time. What is the world coming to?” He
smiled again as the food arrived.

Dinner was delicious and Jackson engaged her in conversation
about the shipyard. She explained the deal, how bringing that hull-building
industry to Cleveland would revitalize the steel business, and he listened
intently as she described the jobs growth and economic indicators she could
rattle off from memory.

“I had heard Trojan Japan was looking to relocate their
hull-building yards, but didn’t know Cleveland was a frontrunner for the deal.
Congressman Powell from South Carolina has been courting them, a couple others
I’ve heard of as well. What’s your hook to beat them out?”

“We’ve been talking to Trojan Japan for quite a while now,
pointing out the benefits of freshwater building. They’re interested; it cuts
down on their EPA licensing and filing fees. Plus they get the benefit of the
steel and iron distribution channels and other raw materials availability in
the region. It’s a money saver for them.”

“Then what’s the holdup? Sounds like a no-brainer.”

“The EPA is the holdup right now. Our Environmental
Protection Agency needs to release the report on Lake Erie in the next three
months so the deal can go through. This is a new one on the EPA. In addition to
the usual environmental tests on the lake, in order to be approved to support
building of oceangoing vessels, Lake Erie has to test negative on several
higher-based environmental standards that have never been routine to conduct in
fresh water. Very expensive tests, usually in the budgets for those oceanfront
locations that do shipbuilding. EPA has been awaiting appropriations, but time
is of the essence.”

He pulled his cell phone from the holster in his belt and
looked at the caller ID. He held up his index finger. “Hold that thought one
moment, I’m sorry… Hey, kid, what’s up?”

Rory took the opportunity to study him. He was very handsome
and her gaze slowly descended from his smooth aristocratic features and trailed
down his muscular neck. His Adam’s apple was pronounced, and the thought
occurred to her that she’d like to run her tongue over it. Her eyes continued
to travel to where his neck formed a V. She imagined her tongue laving that
spot as well until she looked up and noticed he was looking directly into her
eyes. She immediately swung her gaze in the direction of the waiter as she
considered how much she would love another drink.

He hung up his phone. “Now where were we? You were telling
me about your bid for the shipbuilding yard. You’re going to need to chase
votes on the Appropriations Committee. They aren’t going to come easily.” As he
said this, his eyes roved over her.

“Well, perhaps I can count on your vote, Congressman.” She
stared straight into his eyes. “What would that cost me?”

He leaned forward in his chair and placed his elbows on the
table. With his chin propped on his entwined fingers, his eyes softened and
became seductive. His smile was very sultry, smirking. “I’d have to give that
some serious consideration, Congresswoman. I wonder what you’d offer me.”

“I’m not sure I have much to offer in exchange. I just got
here, and I’m not very popular yet.” She kept her steely gaze trained on him.
Her motto, “show no fear”, repeating in her head.

“I’m sure as time goes by I can think of something.” His
smile told her no shoes would be required for what he had in mind. She was
becoming hot, which made her uncomfortable. She turned the subject back to him.

“So was that a call from one of your many women?”

He let out a deep breath and leaned back in his seat. “No,
actually that was my son.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a son. How old is he?” This
offered her some insight into the playboy she hadn’t expected.

“He’s seventeen, a junior in high school. He lives with my
ex-wife in Portland. I see him a couple weekends a month, either here or in
Maine. He’s on his high school basketball team and is fascinated with the
girls,” he said smiling.

“So he’s a chip off the old block. How long have you been
divorced?”

“Going on ten years. We split when Ryan was seven. I think
he’s dealt with it pretty well. He’s a straight-A student and we really have no
problems with him…besides the fact that he’s a huge horn dog and constantly
chasing the girls.” He smiled as if this was something he was secretly proud
of. She laughed. It was very endearing, his obvious affection for and pride in
his son. She wondered why he and his wife split. With his reputation she
immediately wondered if he had been unfaithful. Unfortunately, it wasn’t
unusual in their line of work.

“You’re wondering why my wife and I divorced, aren’t you?”

She shrugged. He was so handsome. In the dim light of the
restaurant, his blue eyes shined and she knew his lips were soft and kissable.
She was attracted to him, but who wouldn’t be? He looked like he should be
modeling underwear for
GQ
magazine. No wonder he was a playboy. Women
probably swooned at his feet.

“It’s really none of my business.”

“I don’t mind. It’s no secret. My wife was unfaithful.” He
said it almost casually and it took her by surprise. He was so beautiful, one
wouldn’t expect anybody to be unfaithful to a body and face like that.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure that was difficult,” she offered,
hoping to end this line of conversation.

“Yes, it was a very difficult time for me. Believe it or
not, I would have preferred to remain married and work through the situation.
We tried, but without trust and with some real issues I had with her ideas on
marriage, we couldn’t make it work. That commitment was one I took very
seriously. She didn’t, so we had to divorce.”

She reeled from his disclosure. He was very straightforward,
didn’t feel a need to hold anything back. Not like her. Of course, she doubted
even adultery hurt as much as your spouse murdering your father. She was
becoming even more uncomfortable with this conversation and her involuntary
sarcastic impulses continued.

“So since then, you’ve been playing hard with a long line of
lovely ladies, from what I’ve heard. May as well enjoy life, eh?”

“Well, I do enjoy women. I’m not going to lie. Except for
the time I was married, I’ve always had an appetite for certain pleasures.
Although it
has
been overblown in the media because of my profession.
I’m not nearly as misbehaved as they say.” He shot her a wide grin, and she
immediately knew he was lying through his teeth. Something told her this hot
bastard had played hard and taken advantage of his appeal. She seemed to recall
gossip about his preference for two or more women at the same time.

“Well I’m not easily offended. I won’t keep count of the
women I see leaving your apartment with their panties in a bag.” She was
feeling prickly, and if she were honest with herself, a little jealous. Of
whom, she wasn’t sure.

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