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Authors: Lisa Durkin

The Gentlewoman (34 page)

BOOK: The Gentlewoman
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Jackson had begrudgingly agreed with the plan after some
time talking things through with Reynolds. He had remained angry though. He
spoke in clipped words on their car ride to the hotel and when she apologized
for the situation, he curtly reminded her it wasn’t her fault. They checked
into the same honeymoon suite at the InterContinental and Rory wondered what to
do. She had never dealt with Jackson like this. He had never been angry with
her before.

Besides dealing with Jackson, she was feeling nervous and
melancholy. The implications of Tagg’s murder were settling in her mind. The
taste of fear had returned. She quietly unpacked her bags, placing her clothes
in the drawers and closet. Jackson brooded.

“I’m going to shower,” she murmured, and shut the door
behind her. She moved to the sink and looked in the mirror, seeing that same
frightened woman of three years prior. She looked down at her engagement ring
and closed her eyes, wondering how the fuck she was supposed to keep level in
this mess.

The bathroom door opened and Jackson slowly came and stood
beside her. He leaned against the counter and searched her face. Rory couldn’t
tell what he was thinking. She held her breath, almost afraid of what he was
going to say.

After a moment, he lifted his hand and brushed her hair
back, caressing her cheek. She leaned into him.

“I’m sorry,” she said, tears escaping.

“Shhh, don’t. You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry,”
he said, taking her into his arms.

He burrowed into the crook of her neck and inhaled. “I’m
sorry for being an ass. I’m scared for you and I was being angry.”

She cried harder and he held on tight. “I thought you were
done with me.”

“Never. I can’t live without you. That’s why I’m so pissed
and scared.”

“I know,” she said as she pulled back and looked into his
eyes. “I’m so scared, Jackson. Tagg…” She couldn’t bring herself to talk about
what had been done to Tagg.

“I know, baby. I know.” He held her tightly as they both
worked through their fear and emotions.

“I can’t believe you still want me with all this trouble.”

“I want you forever, no matter what. We’ll get through this.
We’ll get him out of our lives.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Oh yes you do.” They stared into each other’s eyes and heat
sparked between them. Fed by love and need, the show of loyalty and danger,
their mouths collided.

Jackson picked her up and threw her on the bed in the
bedroom. He pulled his sweater over his head. “Get naked.”

She didn’t question him, only stared at him as she pulled
her sweater off and started to unfasten her jeans. This was what they needed.
They both felt it and Rory knew that his show of dominance, while it made her
hotter than hell, was what he needed to assuage his helplessness and anger.

“Don’t,” he said when she started to remove her bra. “Just
like that.”

Rory watched as he started to remove his pants. It made her
wet, the way his arm and shoulder muscles danced when he moved. He pushed his
jeans down, freeing his long, hard cock. She felt her nipples tighten.

“Over here, on your knees,” he directed her roughly. She
quickly knelt before him on the floor. “Take the bra off now.”

She obliged and looked up at him. “Touch them.” She didn’t
hesitate. The fire in his blue eyes was so intense she couldn’t wait to give
him exactly what he asked for.

She cupped her breasts and squeezed them together, massaging
them. His mouth opened slightly as he breathed in. His eyes glowed.

“Pinch the nipples,” he growled. She did, as he began to
stroke himself.

“Stop,” he commanded. She stopped and looked up at him. He
was still holding himself. “Touch me,” he groaned.

She took his cock into both hands and pumped him. He moved
his hips into her hands, breathing hard and moaning. “Put it in your mouth.”

She took him into her mouth. She licked and sucked him hard.
He tasted so good. She took him to the back of her throat, sucking harder and
moving faster over his shaft.

“Stop,” he commanded sharply. She immediately stopped and
looked up at him. His eyes were on fire and he moved back. “Lean over the bed.”

She spread her hands on the mattress and braced herself. She
thought she knew what was coming and she was more turned on than ever. His
hardness and dominance made her so needy she couldn’t wait to feel him pushing
inside her.

He approached her and stood behind her, “I need to fuck
you,” he said. “But before I do, I want to slap your ass so badly. Can I slap
your ass, Rory?”

She didn’t think twice. “Yes,” she breathed.

His big hand caressed her ass. “Can I slap you hard?”

“Yes.”

He raised his hand quickly and slapped her so hard that it
threw her forward. He grabbed her hips.

“Are you okay?” His voice was still controlled, hard.

“Yes.” She wasn’t sure why she liked it so much. It was so
erotic and hard. She felt it in the depths of her channel.

“I’m going to slap you again.”

Rory braced herself and he slapped her again. She moaned and
he smacked her harder, the stinging sensation making her hotter. He changed
direction and hit her on her opposite cheek. She leaned into his hand as it
came down again and again, the slapping sound another sensation.

He stopped and pulled her hips toward him. Breathing hard,
he placed the wide head of his cock at her entrance. He pressed inside her and
reared back before pounding hard again and again. She grunted and grasped the
comforter in her fists as she took the beating he gave her. Hitting her square
on that sweet spot, she quickly climbed to orgasm and screamed his name as she
came and came. She felt him pull out of her and spurt his come on her ass and
sex before pulling her back to him and collapsing sideways on the bed.

They lay there catching their breath. After a couple
minutes, Jackson went into the bathroom and brought back a wet washcloth. He
gently wiped her off, caressing and kissing her stinging ass cheeks. He
returned to the bed and wrapped her in his arms.

“Did you like that?”

“Oh yes,” she breathed. “I like everything you do to me.”

“Really? God that makes me happy.”

She smiled at him. “I’m determined to think of a creative
way to add ‘spanking’ to our wedding vows.”

“That’s my girl.”

 

Monday morning Jackson dropped Rory at her office door. He
kissed her and they clung to each other before he had to hurry to his first
meeting. They both had a lot to catch up on after being gone since the previous
Wednesday but neither was ready to be without the other after enjoying so much
time together. Or perhaps it was the threat that loomed over them. Either way,
Rory thought as she watched him disappear down the hall, she had an interview
to plan.

Jackson still wasn’t keen on the idea. He had argued that he
didn’t want her talking on national television about what had happened, that
she shouldn’t have to give herself up like that. She had told him that it was
her story and she would be the one to use it if she needed to. She could tell
that comment reminded him of his party’s attempt to use her, which pretty much
silenced him. Besides, she had told him, she was going to control the topic,
only talk about what she wanted to. Nothing would be discussed about the fact
that she had been pregnant. She was adamant that news would never be known.

After catching up with Nicole and the rest of the staff,
which included congratulatory hugs and fawning over her engagement ring, they
got down to business. They got her campaign manager, Sabrina, on a conference
call, and started to weigh their best options for the interview. She wanted it
to happen as soon as possible, and they ran down the possibilities.

After some review, it was apparent that nobody wanted just
Rory. They wanted both Jackson and her. Every request was for the happy couple.
Rory didn’t know how he would feel about that. The three of them caught up on
other business and decided to regroup after Rory had spoken with Jackson.

Rory turned to Nicole. “Now that we’re alone, I need to talk
to you about things.” Rory explained the real reason for the interview and
watched as Nicole became horrified after learning about Tagg.

“Holy shit, Rory. Murdered in your home? I can’t fucking
believe this,” Nicole said with tears in her eyes.

“I know. Please, let’s try to act normal. I need it,” she
implored Nicole.

Nicole eyed her worriedly but nodded. “Of course.”

“Good, now bring me up to speed on what’s been going on
around here.”

 

Jackson took over, his earlier reticence abandoned. His
people helped set up the interview, a live Valentine’s Day segment for
Dateline
.
While they were at it, his publicist talked them into a photo shoot and an
interview by a reporter from the
Washington Post
. Rory’s head spun. She
hadn’t even known Jackson had a publicist.

Jackson became excited at the prospect of the photo shoot,
saying he was happy to have engagement photos and portraits of them together.
She kissed him hard. His enthusiasm was so sweet. They made photos in both
formalwear and casual clothes and some in jeans and sweaters at Jackson’s
request. The pictures came back gorgeous. Rory’s favorite was one where Jackson
sat behind her. She had turned to him and they had laughed. Jackson’s eyes smiled
the most in that one.

They were busy with those events, plus fundraisers and a
Kennedy Center ballet performance. Valentine’s Day was Thursday, and the closer
it got, the more nervous Rory became. To make matters worse, the paparazzi had
begun following them again. They had figured out Rory and Jackson were staying
at the InterContinental. Jackson laughed it off, explaining they were
renovating his condo and had decided to set themselves up at the hotel.

Chapter Thirty-Four

 

They rode in the livery car to the studio where the
interview was to take place. Nicole and Jackson’s people had arrived earlier to
see to the details. His sharply dressed publicist had taken charge. Tensions
mounted as Rory and Jackson became anxious thinking about what questions would
be asked. She had assured him more than once that she could handle anything
this woman could throw at her.

She looked out the window, remembering her first day in
Congress and the questions from the press. Today’s interview would be conducted
for
Dateline
by that same reporter she’d spoken to first, Allison
Roberts. Rory remembered how that blonde bitch had tried to broach the topic of
the incident that day. Roberts hadn’t been her choice; she was chosen by the
show. They needed somebody on-site in DC.

Jackson squeezed her hand and she smiled at him. He was so
gorgeous. His dark, thick hair shining and his strong features so handsome. She
looked at his full lips as his mouth curved into a beautiful smile.

“Will you be Congresswoman Dorn after we marry? I’d
understand if you don’t want to change your name.”

Rory smiled. She was onto Jackson’s tactics. Anytime she was
dwelling on the situation, or on anything unhappy, he tried to distract her
with the good stuff. It always worked.

“I haven’t had much time to think about it. I’m pretty
traditional, maybe hyphenate? I don’t want my constituents to mistake me for
anybody else.”

He beamed and kissed her hand. “That would make me happy. I
want you to have my name. You know I want everybody to know who you belong to.”

She loved his possessiveness. She thought of their life
together. “Where will our residence be? I mean, I live in Ohio and you live in
Maine. And we both live in DC as well. How’s that going to work?”

He pulled her to him. “When we’re in Maine, we’ll be
Mainers. When we’re in Ohio, we’ll be Ohioans. When we’re in DC we’re members
of Congress, right?”

“You’re willing to be an Ohioan?”

“Well, part-time,” he quipped. “You’re willing to be a
Mainer part-time, right?”

“I think my backside has already proven that.”

 

The sound stage was amuck with people moving bright lights
and umbrella reflectors. Nicole and the crew settled Rory and Jackson on a
yellow loveseat, on a set that looked like somebody’s living room. There was
even a fake window and fake outdoor scene. Everybody was working very hard at
being fake, Rory thought.

She and Jackson had changed into more casual clothing. He
wore a black shirt, charcoal sports coat and pants, and she chose a dark
lavender knit dress. Nicole assured her this was her best color. She looked in
the large mirror that a crewmember held in front of them while her hair was
fussed over. His sports coat showed the broadness of his shoulders, while her
clingy knit dress showed her small sleek figure. Now they both looked like they
belonged in a Ralph Lauren ad. Jackson caught her eye in the mirror and winked,
no doubt guessing her acerbic thoughts over all the fuss.

Across the room, a door opened and Rory knew that Ms.
Roberts was imagining trumpets sounding at her entrance. Blonde hair flowing,
she floated her way to the armchair that sat opposite them. It took all Rory’s
concentration not to roll her eyes.

“Congressman, Congresswoman, thank you for agreeing to this
interview,” she began, dripping with sugar. She shook both their hands,
lingering with Jackson’s. Rory watched as she damn well batted her fake
eyelashes at him. She pressed her lips together to suppress her smile. She
caught Nicole’s laugh off-stage.

Before she knew it, they were rolling. The monitor showed the
show’s intro and introductory footage from the
Dateline
studio. After
that snippet, the director came forward telling them they were on a
three-minute commercial break.

A thought occurred to Rory. “Does
Dateline
normally
do live interviews?”

“Not to my knowledge.” The director shrugged as he
rearranged them until they were sitting closer and Jackson had his arm resting
on the couch behind her. Her legs were crossed, hands in her lap. She looked
down and drew strength from the engagement ring she wore, courtesy of her sweet
man.

The director counted down to the moment that the
Dateline
studio threw the story to Barbie, and she began to speak.

“I’m here today with…blah blah blah…” Rory and Jackson both
responded to her longwinded introduction with their polite good evenings. Ms.
Roberts directed the audience’s attention to another prepared reel of footage.
They watched the monitor.

The footage began with Jackson’s history, both career-wise
and personal. His family’s wealth and lineage were outlined. They showed family
photos, FBI file photos and some stories of cases he’d worked prior to coming
to Congress. They reviewed the committees he served and his conservative voting
record. Rory smirked at him. He narrowed his eyes playfully at her.

They turned back to the monitor. Jackson’s marital and
dating history was reflected in a fashion that, true to media form, made him
seem like the Playboy Dorn they kept referring to him as. Several pictures of
him with different women, including the Kennedy cousin and pop singer, flashed
across the screen. One showed him in swim trunks at a racy-looking boat party.
He shifted and became tense. She wasn’t sure why. He knew she had no issues
with his bachelor games. She took his hand.

She was surprised at the amount of film they had dug up on
her. They detailed her races and wins in Ohio. They showed a couple pictures of
her and her father, explaining how she grew up so close to him. She wondered
how the hell they knew, and looked at Nicole. They told of her connection to
her mentor, the former mayor and current Director of Commerce Landon McCollum.
They spoke of her appointment to Congress. For the most part it was factually
accurate.

And then the real story was unveiled. She cringed as the
footage of the farmhouse was shown. Aerial footage was replayed that she had
seen time and again of the farmhouse surrounded by police cars and ambulances,
emergency personnel running here and there.

Her heart sank as it went on. Her wedding announcement and
pictures of Aidan flashed in front of her eyes as the story of how they met and
eventually married was told.

And then there was a summary of what Aidan did. How he
killed her father and almost succeeded in killing Rory. To her horror, she
watched as crime scene photos were flashed across the screen of the bloodied
interior, her father, and herself. She felt Jackson’s arms go around her.

Her heart raced and the roaring in her ears almost blocked
out all other sound, but she heard the cut to commercial when the reel ended.

Rory looked at Barbie’s stupid smiling face.

“We’ll start in three minutes,” she chirped happily and
looked down at her notes. Rory looked at Jackson, who held her tightly.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

She swallowed the metallic taste in her mouth. She reminded
herself that she had volunteered for this. It was all her idea.

“I’ll be all right,” she whispered. She looked at Nicole,
who seemed torn as to what to do. She gave her a slight nod to reassure her
that she could do this.

Jackson grabbed the water. “Drink this. You’ve gone
completely white.” She drank and breathed deeply, struggling to bring her panic
under control.

“I’ll be okay,” she repeated.

The director counted down and Rory made an effort to put on
her game face. If there was ever a time for her “show no fear” motto, it was
this moment. She took one last deep breath.

On cue, Barbie welcomed and thanked Rory and Jackson again,
wishing them happy Valentine’s Day. She pitched her congratulations on their
engagement and directed her first question to Jackson.

“What exactly is it about the congresswoman that made you
propose in such a short time? Has it been six weeks?”

“Six weeks tomorrow actually,” Jackson answered
enthusiastically. He settled his gaze on Rory and smiled. “Well, Ms. Roberts,
when you find the most beautiful, perfect person in the world, the one you’ve
been searching for, you don’t waste time making the best decision you’ve ever
made.”

Barbie turned to Rory. “And you didn’t hesitate to agree to
marriage?”

Rory looked into Jackson’s eyes. “No way. If you’re smart,
you never turn down the best thing that ever happened to you.” Jackson beamed
at her.

“You went to Maine and became engaged officially. Tell us
about that.” They replayed the humorous events at the Follies and Rory talked
about how nice it was to spend time with Jackson’s son. When they recounted the
events of the proposal, Rory teared up and Jackson took her hand. The monitor
showed a close-up of her engagement ring as Jackson told of its passage down
his family tree.

Ms. Roberts asked about their political differences. Jackson
explained that they really had very few differences. They rather seemed to
arrive at the same conclusions via different routes. He gushed about Rory’s
policy and legislative savvy, and her tough-as-nails approach to serving the
people. Rory had never felt so highly praised.

She began to relax as they were asked about their recent
collaboration on the Homeland Security bill that was now working its way
through committee. Rather than discuss the real drama, Rory and Jackson presented
a united front. They talked about how the bill, with its added personnel and
tougher sentencing requirements, would help fight crime.

It was at that point that Rory thought she should have seen
what was coming.

“Congresswoman, are you hopeful that this bill will help to
prevent others from living through the violence you experienced?”

Her first instinct was to deflect, but she forced herself to
remember what she needed to accomplish here. She swallowed hard and held her
chin high.

“Yes I am. It’s my hope that added personnel will help
dissuade criminals like Aidan Sullivan and his family from trying to take
advantage of the American people.”

“Tell us, Congresswoman, looking back on the deception that
your late husband perpetrated on you and your family, how did that fake
marriage and subsequent violent attack change your life?”

Rory trained her eyes on Barbie. She could feel Jackson’s
hand move to her lower back.

She cleared her throat. “Obviously, it was a horrific event
in my life.”

“Yes, please tell us.”

Barbie’s spurring her on pissed her off. She tried to keep
her hands from visibly shaking. She struggled with her physical need for
flight, versus what she knew she needed to do to move on with life. She squared
her shoulders.

“The whole incident changed my life completely. I lost my
father in a horribly violent manner. I lost everything that was dear to me, and
nearly died myself.”

“Are you still affected as deeply today?”

That question was useful; she could steer it. “Meeting and
falling in love with Jackson Dorn has changed my life. I have never experienced
happiness like I have with Jackson. It’s so easy to see how small a man Aidan
Sullivan was when compared to this man.” She stared into his eyes and he
reassured her with one look. “Now that Jackson and I have our life together,
that cowardly criminal and his family are just a dim memory.” She was blatant
about showing her steely gaze. She needed to sell this message to Roan.

“That’s wonderful. The attack itself was so very tragic and
violent. Can you take us through what happened that day?”

Her head snapped sharply back to the reporter. She felt
Jackson shift beside her. Panic rose in her chest, but she reminded herself that
she was on live television and didn’t want to come off as fucking crazy.

“That day was the culmination of Aidan Sullivan finding out
that my father and I were working with the authorities to bring him down.”

“He took you from work in the middle of the day, is that
correct?”

“Yes,” Rory replied.

“How did he manage to get you to go with him?”

She looked her in the eye. “He told me that he’d kill my
father if I didn’t get into the car,” she snapped.
Hang in there. It’s not
that bad. It’s almost over.
She focused on Nicole’s blonde hair over the
reporter’s shoulder.

“And he took you to your family’s farmhouse in Erie County,
a holiday spot that you adored since you were a child.”

“Yes.”

“Tell us about the car ride.”

Rory stared. She sat stone still. “He beat me the entire
way.”

“How did he beat you?”

“With his fists,” she spat. She felt Jackson’s hand cover
hers.

“In fact he ruptured your left eye, broke four ribs and your
left wrist, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“And when you reached your destination, it continued, is
that correct?”

“Yes.”

“He raped you that day. Can you tell us what you were
thinking as your own husband raped you repeatedly?”

The pounding in Rory’s ears and head and the panic racing
through her chest would have caused her to double over if her anger hadn’t
soared. She lifted her chin and answered the question directly.

“As you can imagine, it was torture. A cowardly act of
violence by a person who knew no other way to live his life but to terrorize
others for what he wanted.”

“Records show, Congresswoman, that he continually raped you
throughout the day, that this continued for approximately five hours before he
attacked and killed your beloved father in front of you. What was that like for
you?” Barbie cocked her head to the side.

Rory was confused for a moment as to what records this bitch
was referring. A new stab of fear went through her.

“Terror. Torture. It was indescribable and heartbreaking.
That was what it was like,” she gasped.

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