Smoke and Sin (The Perfect Gentlemen 4)

Gus’s hand tightened in his, almost to the point of pain. Oh, she was pissed, but she wasn’t giving away the game. Yep, he had her.

“And Ms. Matthews has work to do,” Zack said. “She won’t be getting any more nights off. I think it’s important that she’s by my side so she can deal with the press properly.”

Clint Gates held his hands up. “Of course, Mr. President. We were only relaxing with friends.”

“Ms. Spencer, are you all right? Is there anything you want to say?” It looked like Kemp wasn’t backing down even as his friend gave him an elbow to the side. “Because if you do, you should understand that while I’m here to protect the president, I’ll protect you, too.”

Gus gave him a brilliant smile. “Protect me? From Roman? I’m afraid he’s the one who needs some protection. I’m sorry if you feel I’ve misled you, Special Agent. I was trying to get this one’s attention. You know, after a while they stop trying, get a little complacent, and start thinking three minutes is a marathon.”

“And we’re going to bed.” He should have known Gus would find a way to bust his balls, even when he had her firmly in his grasp. She would never cry prettily as she asked for his mercy. She would have none on him when they were alone again. Of that he had no doubt.

Why did he find that so damn arousing?

“You’re dismissed, gentlemen,” Zack told Kemp and Gates.

Neither looked happy—Matthew much less thrilled than his counterpart—but they retreated.

“Gus?” Liz asked, her stare falling to where his hand gripped her elbow.

“I’m fine. I’ll talk to you in the morning. You okay? If you don’t feel like working, you could tell Connor. He’s very much on our side when it comes to manageable working hours.”

Zack frowned. “When did Connor get so interested in your schedules?”

Sometimes Zack was slow to catch social cues.

Roman moved in close so the boys above couldn’t hear. “She’s talking about you being alone with Liz. Connor’s offered to babysit…just in case.”

“What does he think I’ll do?” Zack asked, sounding outraged.

“I can tell him it won’t be anything at all interesting,” Liz replied. “I don’t need Connor to save me. President Hayes is completely harmless except for boring me to death.” She turned to Zack. “If you’d like to review our talking points for the press, I’ll follow you. I wouldn’t want you to not know the names of every member of the British press circuit. I’ve made flashcards. It’ll be fun.”

Zack watched Liz walk away. “I wouldn’t hurt her.”

“You already have,” Gus said under her breath.

“Et tu, Augustine?” Zack asked with a sad twist of his mouth.

“You have no idea, Mr. President. None. I’m going to Roman’s room now where we’re going to have violent hate sex and he might tattoo his name on my ass so that when he tosses me out like garbage again, no other man will want me.” Gus turned and stomped her way to the stairs, but not before she pointed his way. “And don’t forget our deal. You don’t want to cross me on this, Calder. It won’t be pretty.”

With that, she was gone. He and Zack were alone, looking in different directions as the objects of their affections/irritations sauntered away.

“What the hell was all of that?” Zack demanded.

“Nothing I can’t handle. I’ll take care of Gus.

Zack scowled, obviously not liking it, but equally baffled by the woman. “All right. What the hell are we going to do?”

“No idea.” But he knew he’d better come up with one—and fast. Gus would sleep in his bed tonight. She might stab him, too. Or, if he played his cards right, she just might fill his arms again.

He had the closest thing to a second chance he’d ever had with her. The question was, should he take it?

CHAPTER EIGHT

Gus strode up the stairs, ignoring Roman behind her. Nothing he could say would make her stop this death march to his room. Once they reached his quarters, she knew they would have one hell of a fight.

Then what?

She worried a bit about that answer. It would be so easy to fall into bed with Roman, just like losing herself in that damn kiss had been. Gus didn’t want to think about that.

“Augustine,” he called after her, his voice full of demand.

She kept right on walking. She had zero reason to start a conversation before they reached his quarters. Otherwise, they’d only argue sooner, where anyone could hear.

When they turned down the west wing hall, Roman right on her heels, the doors to the two largest suites came into view. Naturally Zack had the best, but Roman’s digs weren’t far behind. Yes, she understood custom dictated that the officials with the most important positions in the administration were given the most lavish quarters. Hell, they were like small luxury apartments. And neither man could defer or refuse for fear of insulting their host country. But Roman and Zack were single. Why did either of them need multiple rooms and a king-sized bed?

On the other hand, Gus intended to make damn sure Roman would be happy his room had a sofa tonight.

“Augustine, stop. I found something.”

She paused mid-stride. Okay. He could say words that would make her talk before they were behind closed doors. No idea what he might have found, maybe his good sense. Or perhaps some decency. That would be nice.

Schooling her expression, she spun around and found him holding up something plastic. Awesome. He’d found trash. That would help them so much.

Responding with only a sigh, she turned again and headed for his room. They couldn’t have this out until they had privacy. Then she would explain the world to him.

Her phone buzzed in her hand. Liz was texting her, likely asking what the hell was going on. Or asking Gus to save her from Zack.

Zack. Damn it. She needed to know if her brother’s friend, the president, was involved in this tangle. She’d looked into Roman’s eyes when she’d asked about his involvement in Mad’s death and she’d s

een his shock. And hurt, too.

Had Roman become a good actor? Years ago, he’d been terrible. But since then, he’d cultivated that blank poker face she’d come to associate with him stonewalling. He did it to the press all the time. Tonight, however, his face hadn’t been blank at all. He’d been open in that moment. And seemingly stunned.

Did she dare believe him?

He rushed to catch up, his long legs now striding in sync with hers. “You’re an impossible mule.”

Took one to know one. “You didn’t have to humiliate me.”

He nodded to the Secret Service agents standing guard outside the president’s room. The whole house was full of them. There would be one or two shadowing Zack…and overhearing his latest fight with Liz. But despite the black suits crawling everywhere, Roman had ensured she couldn’t get close to the only one who mattered.

“I wasn’t trying to humiliate you,” he said under his breath as they passed by the agents. “I was trying to keep you safe. How was that humiliating?”

He was supposed to be so smart, but sometimes she swore he had the emotional IQ of a turtle. “You treated me like a piece of property.”

He sighed and rushed ahead of her, using his key to unlock his door. He held it open and hustled her in, then shut them away from the rest of the world. Despite her anger, Gus knew all too well how dangerous it was to be alone with him. Five minutes after that kiss he’d used to brand her as his, her body still thrummed, her blood still coursed, and her pussy still ached.

He turned on her. “I treated you like a woman who doesn’t have the sense to protect herself. You were in his room. If he’d caught you there, he could have killed you.”

She rolled her eyes. At the time, it had been terrifying, and she’d been oddly relieved to have Roman huddled in that closet with her, his arms wrapped around her as if she was precious and he meant to protect her at all costs. Then he’d ruined everything with his caveman kiss. He hadn’t pressed his lips to hers because he wanted to be closer to her or because he wanted to pleasure her. He’d done it simply to prove his ownership.