Affairs of State (Daughters of Power: The Capital #6)(3)
Author: Jennifer Lewis

He didn’t want to blow it. Scare her off. Something deep in his gut told him that Ariella Winthrop was no ordinary woman. He trusted his gut in the line of fire and on the face of a sheer cliff. It rarely steered him wrong.

Something about Ariella sent excitement coursing through him. He couldn’t explain it, or even put his finger on the feeling; it was just a hunch that meeting her could change the course of his entire life.

He even managed to let go of her hands, reluctantly, and turn toward the rhododendron border as a distraction. “The reality is that your life has changed forever.” He glanced back, and was relieved to see her following closely. “Whether you like it or not, you’re public property now.” It made him feel close to her. They shared a bond and his years of hard experience could help her negotiate the minefield of a life lived on the pages of the daily papers.

“But I’m still the same person I’ve been all along. People can’t expect me to suddenly welcome the entire world into my private life.”

“You’re not the same, though. You didn’t know the president was your father, did you?”

“I was as surprised as he was. I’d never have guessed it in a million years. Now people are even saying I look like him. It seems insane to me. I don’t feel in the least bit related to him.”

Simon surveyed her strikingly pretty face. She had elegant, classical features, highlighted by the sparkle of warmth from her people-oriented personality. “You do look rather like him. You both have striking bone structure, and something about your eyes seems familiar.”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re just imagining it. Or trying to make me feel better, and it’s not working. Yes, I’d like to meet him, since we do share the same genes, but I’m sure I’ll never have the same feelings for him as I do for the man who actually raised me.”

“Of course not.” He frowned. Her moss-green eyes were filled with concern. “No one expects you to do that.”

“I feel like they do.” she protested. “Journalists keep talking to me as if I must be happy to have President Morrow as my father. He’s so popular and successful that I must be dying to claim his revered family tree as my own. I couldn’t care less. I’d rather be descended from some nice man whom I could actually meet and get to know, not some almighty, carved-from-stone figure that everyone bows down to. It’s exasperating.”

He chuckled. “Maybe he isn’t as carved in stone as you think. Sometimes people expect members of the royal family to behave like granite statues, but believe me, we have feelings, too. It can be very inconvenient.” Like right now, when he longed to take this troubled and lovely woman in his arms and give her a big bear hug.

Once again he restrained himself. He’d learned to do a pretty passable impression of a granite statue when the occasion called for it.

“I don’t think the press wants me to be a granite statue. I think they’d like to see me go right to pieces. The way they’ve been hounding me and peppering me with questions, it feels like they’re just waiting for me to say the wrong thing or break down sobbing. They must be exasperated that I’m so dull I couldn’t give them a good story even if I wanted to.” The morning breeze whipped her dark dress against her body. The soft fabric hugged contours that would bring a weaker man to his knees. If only he wasn’t a gentleman.

“You’re anything but dull.”

“Why are we talking about me? That’s a dull topic if there ever was one.” Her eyes flashed something that warned him off. “Didn’t you invite me here to help you plan a party?”

He frowned. Had he used that as an excuse? He just wanted to get to know her better. It was a good idea, though. He’d like to raise awareness of World Connect in the US and gain some new donors. “Do you think you could help me put together a fund-raiser for World Connect? We’ve never done one on this side of the Atlantic before.”

“Absolutely.” Her face lit up and he could almost feel her lungs fill with relief. “We organize gala events all the time. We can pretty much print out a guest list of people who like to support worthy causes. Happily there are a lot of them in D.C.”

“They sound ideal. And I wouldn’t turn up my nose at people who want to donate for the tax benefits, either.”

She grinned. “They’re often the most generous ones. What kind of venue did you have in mind?”

He tried to look like he’d put some thought into it. “Somewhere…big.” It was hard to think at all with those big green eyes staring so hopefully at him. “I’m sure you could come up with a good place.”

“The Smithsonian might work. There are a lot of possibilities. I can make some phone calls once you pick a date.”

“A date?” He drew in a breath. “What would you suggest?” A date far off into the future might be good, so he’d have plenty of excuses to get together with her for brainstorming and planning.

“Summers aren’t ideal because a lot of people go away to the beach. I’d recommend the fall or winter. Something about the short days makes people want to get dressed up in their sparkliest outfits and stay out late.”

“November or December, then. You can choose a date that works for the venue.” Perfect. Five or six months of meetings with Ariella should be enough time for…

For what? What exactly did he intend to do with her?

For once he wasn’t sure. All he knew is that he wanted to be close to her. To hear her voice. To touch her…

“My partner, Scarlet, keeps a master list of venues and cultivates relationships with the people who run them. We should talk to her. It’s important to find out what else is going on that week, too. You don’t want two similar events taking place on the same night, or even back to back.”

“Of course not.” He jerked back his hand, which was heading toward hers. He needed to keep himself in check or she’d send her partner to meet with him. “I’ll rely entirely on your expertise. I usually raise money for our endeavors by ringing people up and asking them for money.”

“Does that work well?” Humor danced in her eyes.

“Surprisingly, it does.”

“That sounds a lot less expensive than throwing parties.”

“But think of all the fun I miss out on. And hardly anyone in the US has heard of World Connect, so I need to get the word out.”

She stopped walking. “I have an idea.”

“Yes?”

“How about an outdoor concert?”

“In the dead of winter?” Was he following the conversation? He might have lost track when he just got lost in the way her navy dress hugged her hips.

“No!” She laughed. “You could do it in September or October. The weather’s usually lovely then and we’ve pulled festivals together quicker than that. You could get a much larger and more diverse crowd and make the same money by selling more tickets.”

“I love it. World Connect is about inclusion, so the more people who can come and hear about it, the better.”

“If the bands are enthusiastic enough they might even perform for free, so all the profits would go to World Connect.” He could see her getting excited, which had a strange effect on his own adrenaline. “A good friend of mine is a music agent so I’m sure she can hook me up with some interesting performers.”

“And how about some musicians from Africa? I could talk to some friends over there and see who would be interested. Already the world is coming together. I’m so glad I convinced you to come here today.” Again his fingers itched to seize hers. Again he shoved them into his pockets. They’d walked past the rhododendrons and out onto a lawn that circled around the tennis court. “I can’t believe I lucked into meeting you.”

“You hardly lucked into it.” She shot him a teasing smile that sent heat right to his groin. “You came right up to me.”

“I like to make things happen, not sit around waiting for them to happen.”

“I guess that’s the best way to live your life. I’m going to adopt that attitude from now on.”

“Just keep on being yourself and don’t worry about the press or anyone else. Don’t let the bastards grind you down.”

A smile tugged at her mouth. “I bet you wouldn’t say that in front of the press.”

“True. So more accurately, you have to be yourself, but not put every aspect on public display. I won’t lie, it’s a delicate balance, but I can already see that you’re more than capable of doing it.”

She shrugged her slim shoulders. “I don’t really have any choice.”

“In some ways, I think that makes it easier.” He slid his arm around her shoulders, which sent a delicious sensation of warmth flooding through his torso.

He instantly regretted the rash move when she sprang forward toward a herb border. He shook his head in frustration at himself. He could see that beneath her calm and controlled demeanor she was nervous and skittish as a startled filly. It hadn’t been easy to persuade her to come here and he didn’t want to add to her anxiety by being yet another person who wanted a piece of her.

Her scent filled his nostrils, delicate and feminine, like their lush floral surroundings. “A garden is the perfect backdrop for you.” The sunlight sparkled in her dark hair and lit up her eyes. Even the bird on a nearby tree branch seemed transfixed by her beauty, still and unblinking, head cocked.

“I don’t know why. I haven’t spent much time in gardens.”

“You grew up in the city?”

“Nope, in a tiny town in Montana, but my parents didn’t have a garden like this. It was a smooth clipped lawn with a fence and a doghouse. No camellias to bury your nose in or arbors to stand gracefully under.”

“The president’s from Montana, isn’t he?”

“Yes, that’s how the journalists found me. They went there to do a story on his childhood and decided to tap the phone of a former White House maid who lived in his town. She inadvertently revealed that my mother—his high school sweetheart—had become pregnant and never told him.”

Anger surged inside him. He knew the story already. Who didn’t? It had been setting headlines on fire for months. And since he was here to sign a treaty between the United States and the United Kingdom to punish those who used technology to violate other people’s privacy, it was his business to know the more intimate details. “Have you been following the story in the press? Angelica Pierce, the ANS journalist who did the illegal wiretapping is going to prison, last I heard. She’s expected to get a two- to five-year sentence.”

“I know. Everyone seems to think I should be thrilled about it, but I feel sorry for her. It turned out that Graham Boyle, the former head of ANS, was her biological father and had denied all knowledge of her for years. I’m not sure if she was trying to impress him or ruin him with her illegal antics, but it certainly was a cry for help. I did hear that she and her father have started writing to each other now that they’re both behind bars. Hopefully they’ll have a better relationship once they’ve both served their sentences.”

“Now that’s a family situation that makes almost anything seem normal by comparison, even discovering that your father is president.”

“I suppose you’re right. And I did have a ridiculously normal childhood.” The sun sparkled in her hair. She looked so fresh and pretty out in the sunlight. None of the newspaper images did her justice.

“Did you like growing up in Montana?”

“Sure. I didn’t know anything different. I thought everyone could bike to the store with their dog in the handlebar basket, or fish in a river all day long on Sunday. Sometimes I miss the simple life.”

“Really?” She was relaxing a little.

“Only for a moment, though.” She flashed a slightly mischievous smile. “I do love the hustle and bustle of D.C. I guess when it comes right down to it, I’m a people person rather than a hiking in the wilderness person.”

“Why can’t you be both?”

“I suppose I could. But in the last three or four years I’ve been so madly busy I can barely sleep in on the weekends, let alone commune with nature.”

“Time management is an important part of life in the spotlight.”

“There you go again! I refuse to believe that the rest of my life will be lived in a spotlight.” She hadn’t tensed. She was teasing him.

He shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe the president will get voted out of office in three years and everyone will forget all about you.”

“Hey, that’s my dad you’re talking about!”

He laughed. “See? You feel attached to him already.”

“I admit I have been thinking a lot about meeting him, and my mother. I’m nervous, though.”