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Roman doubted Zack had spoken more than three sentences to his date all night long. They’d already left Mimi at her townhouse earlier, after Zack sent her off with a very dispassionate good-bye. The woman had been stunningly beautiful, but his friend hadn’t noticed one whit. He’d spent the entire evening on his phone, texting back and forth with Thomas, the head of his detail, who was in touch with the agents left behind. He’d gotten real-time, moment-to-moment details of what Liz and Gus were doing with their evening. Once Zack had learned their women were having an intimate meal in the kitchen with the same agents they’d spent the previous evening with, he’d decided to cut the evening with his supermodel short. Roman seconded the decision. Kemp and Gates were hunky…and younger. They hadn’t tried to control the women’s comings and goings without any real explanation why. Gus and Liz didn’t think those guys were assholes.

In fact, right this minute Gus was probably cozied up with Matthew Kemp, whom she’d likely never fought with—or stared at with that expression of horrified heartbreak twisting her face.

Roman didn’t know why she’d looked at him that way last night, but it had felt like a punch to the gut. Gus had been out of her head when she’d turned on him. He’d seen her eyes. Fear, followed by utter despair, had lurked there.

What had been racing through her mind? Mere moments earlier she’d told him she didn’t blame him for her fall that fateful, long-ago night, but something had happened. Roman knew it. But he had no idea what Gus had endured in the years they’d been apart.

In the years since he’d abandoned her.

He’d bet Mad had known. It boiled Roman’s blood as much as it hurt. Worse, he had no one to blame but himself.

“Roman?” Darcy prompted.

“The president and I need to confer about tomorrow’s conversation with the prime minister,” he said finally.

They didn’t. They were as prepped for this meeting as they could possibly be. Reaffirmation of NATO ties. Check. Delicate conversation about a new trade deal after Brexit. Check. Pushing a pipeline that could make America a mega shit ton of cash and stick it to Russia? Check and high-five. But he would do or say almost anything to wrap up this date now.

Because while Darcy Hildebrandt was sweet and polite in most everyone’s view, with him she’d shown that she possessed at least ten hands, all of which she liked to put in places that violated his modesty. She’d been surprisingly aggressive, and he’d tried a hundred subtle ways to suggest she back off. She wasn’t getting the clue, and he wasn’t sure how else to handle her. He’d never bothered to develop more than a trick or two to ward off overeager women.

But Roman also knew he had to be diplomatic. Darcy worked for the prime minister. Zack needed these talks to go well. They encompassed some of his most important negotiations, but Roman wasn’t willing to sleep with Darcy to ensure their success.

Funny, his younger self would have looked at the woman’s graceful curves and pert breasts and said what the hell. Today, he only wanted to be intimate with Gus.

For a while, it seemed she’d wanted sex with him, too. If he thought it would work, he’d sic Gus on Darcy. Except Gus would flip him off and tell him she couldn’t care less if he was molested by a five-foot-nothing attaché to the British prime minister. But after the way things ended between them last night, she would likely hand him over to Darcy on a silver platter and turn her attention to fucking Matthew Kemp again.

Darcy slid one of her many hands up his arm. “I could help you with that. I know the agenda backward and forward.”

The waiting Secret Service agent stepped toward the car door to open it. Roman needed to make sure Darcy the ambidextrous didn’t follow him. “The president and I should talk about the meeting in private.”

“But I really could help you.” Darcy leaned into him, plastering herself against his side. “With the prep, I mean. I’d be happy to assist if that sets your mind at ease—or help with anything else if it relaxes you enough to rest. Even if it takes all night.”

“Do you think it’s proper for an attaché to the prime minister of England to advise the president of the United States on how to handle your own leader?” Zack challenged. “Because I think your boss will question your loyalty if you cross that line.”

Darcy’s eyes went wide, like a frightened deer in some big-ass headlights. “Oh, no. Sir, I was only offering to have a little…fun.”

Zack didn’t let up one second. “This isn’t a party, Ms. Hildebrandt. This is a serious negotiation so our countries can work effectively together. If the press found out you spent the night with my right-hand man, they would likely question where Roman’s loyalties lie as well, not to mention precisely which of his heads is doing the thinking. Their conclusion would probably be that he doesn’t care about serving the best interests of the American people. That opinion could extend to me, since they would also speculate very publicly that I don’t have control of my staff. Those optics are unacceptable. I need the press to see you heading home while Roman and I return together so there’s no question about anyone’s allegiance.”

She hung onto his arm and sniffed. “With all due respect, I’m not hurting my country by establishing a friendly relationship with your chief of staff.”

Roman tried hard not to roll his eyes. The woman clearly had more than a handshake in mind. And after being chastised by the president of the United States, he couldn’t believe that she seemed completely unfazed.

He’d been wrong about Darcy. A complete idiot, in fact. She wasn’t sweet and polite. Whether she was genuinely hot for him or merely looking to climb the political ladder, she was up to something. “I appreciate that, but Zack and I really do need to have a private conversation. Our countries are friendly, but we all need to make sure there’s no appearance of collusion.”

She pouted, her lower lip sticking out slightly. “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow. Perhaps we can have lunch.”

“I’ll check my schedule. I’m extremely busy for the next few days, but I’m sure I’ll see you at Number Ten,” Roman hedged, willing to say pretty much anything to put distance between himself and her at this point.

So he could find out what Gus was doing and wrest her from Kemp’s company.

The door opened to the sight of a man in a black suit. “Mr. President, welcome back.”

Zack nodded his way. “You ready?”

More than. “Yes, we should handle that issue we didn’t have the opportunity to finish discussing earlier.”

“You’re right,” Zack agreed, knowing no such issue exis

ted. He turned to Darcy. “Good evening. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The second the president left the car, Roman turned to Darcy. “Thanks for being a lovely escort. It was enjoyable.”

That was a goddamn lie, but he managed a semblance of a smile her way just before he unfolded himself from the car.

Darcy reached for him, but Roman was faster, intent on escaping little Miss Tentacles. He had no hesitation about where he was going next. Straight to wherever Augustine was. Maybe he could talk to her, get her to tell him what she’d been thinking or going through the night before.

As the fresh evening air hit him, Roman was gratified to hear the car door shut in Darcy’s face. Then finally, he was breathing for the first time in hours.

Zack moved in beside him. “So you get it now, huh? That woman is after you, and she’s only going to get more insistent until you explain to her that it isn’t happening. You have to be firm.”

He put out a hand, holding off the lecture. “I get it. I’ll deal with her tomorrow. Let’s go and figure out what Liz is doing. You’ve been worried about her all night. We won’t be able to have a reasonable conversation until you’re assured.”

Zack stopped, his brow raising. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Obviously, Roman wasn’t fooling anyone. There was nothing like the person who knew you best calling you out on your shit. “Fine. Let’s figure out what Gus is doing.”

“That I can do. And if we figure out what Elizabeth is doing as well, then that’s what happens.” Zack started for the door.

This would hardly be the first time he gave Zack’s attachment to his press secretary plausible deniability.

Roman followed as the car took off, shuttling Darcy back to her apartment. “So they’re having dinner with Kemp and Gates? Maybe they were merely all in the kitchen at the same time.”

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