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He caught and held her eyes. “The fact is that you’re one of the most attractive and intelligent women of my acquaintance.”
Blinking rapidly, she swiftly averted her eyes. Had he said too much? Would she think he was propositioning her? Language was such an imprecise instrument for conveying thoughts, but maybe he could clarify his meaning. “My injudicious word choice was influenced by having recently met your fa
mily.”
Her eyes darted back to his face. “My family?”
“Yes. Well…they’re…you know…” He gestured, hoping she’d nod in understanding; instead she simply stared. “A bit much…over the top. You know,” he finished helplessly.
“Nouveau riche?” she volunteered.
“Exactly!” Darcy said, relieved he hadn’t been the one to say it. “Of course, you’re not like that!” he added hastily.
“I’m honored you think so.” Her lips were set in a flat line.
His apology should have decreased her anger. But it hadn’t. He was pretty sure he had screwed up another conversation with her, but how? “Look, Ms. Bennet—”
His voice died when Caroline Bingley entered the kitchen.
Even on a Saturday, she was dressed in a designer suit and high heels. Sweeping into the room like she owned it, she brandished a sheaf of papers at Darcy. “You won’t believe what ZNN—”
Caroline stopped short at the sight of Elizabeth leaning against the counter and feigned surprise. No doubt she had heard Elizabeth’s voice as soon as she entered the Residence. Her posture positively bristled with territorialism. Slowly scanning Elizabeth from head to toe, Caroline eyed every crease in her rumpled clothes. Darcy loved this sleep-tousled version of Elizabeth, but she turned red under Caroline’s scrutiny.
Caroline’s lip curled as she reached the obvious, but incorrect, conclusion. Shit. How the hell did he set the record straight? He couldn’t exactly introduce her as “Elizabeth Bennet, whom I did not sleep with last night, but I’d be good with it if she were interested.”
A long silence followed. Darcy cleared his throat. “Uh…you remember Elizabeth Bennet?”
“I don’t believe I’ve had that pleasure.” Caroline’s tone indicated that it was anything but. “Your family makes corn dogs or something, don’t they?”
Elizabeth’s lips twitched. At least she wasn’t intimidated by Caroline. “Oh yeah. You have no idea how hard it is to get the corn kernels to stick to the dogs.”
Caroline stared at the other woman blankly. Perhaps she didn’t recognize Elizabeth’s sarcasm.
“Elizabeth’s family owns On-a-Stick, Inc.,” Darcy said briskly. “They’re a multimillion dollar company specializing in a variety of foods.” Elizabeth’s eyebrows shot up. Didn’t she know he would have her family’s company researched after their first encounter?
Caroline drew herself up and leveled her gaze at Darcy. “Will, honey, we need to get her out of here before the press finds out.” Her tone very deliberately lacked energy, implying that finding strange women in the Residence was a regular occurrence. Darcy was torn between applauding the performance and tearing into her.
A quick glimpse of the murderous fury on Elizabeth’s face determined that Darcy needed to clarify the situation. “Nothing happened—”
Caroline held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear about it,” she said frostily. “This”—she again surveyed Elizabeth from messy hair to shoeless feet—“is hardly helpful to your presidency.”
“This isn’t—she’s not—!” Damn, why was public policy the only thing he could articulate well?
Caroline steamrolled right over his feeble objections as she crossed her arms and gave a dramatic sigh. “Will, it would be good if you could give us a heads up if you’re going to pull something like this.” She glared at Elizabeth like she was an inconvenient mess that Darcy had left on the floor of the kitchen.
Elizabeth moved away from the counter toward Caroline. “There is no ‘this!’” she said heatedly. Despite the tension in the air, Darcy experienced a pang. Was the idea of spending the night with him so distasteful?
Ignoring Elizabeth, Caroline pulled out her phone, texting furiously. “The Secret Service has some experience with ‘bimbo extraction’ after your predecessor’s divorce, but they’re better if they don’t have to do it on the fly.”
Elizabeth got right up in Caroline’s grill. “I am not a bimbo!”
Glancing up from her phone, Caroline fixed Elizabeth with a glare. “Bimbo is in the eye of the beholder, honey.”
Shit. That did it. Storm clouds were practically visible over Elizabeth’s head. “Why you—!” she spat at Caroline.
Darcy jumped between the two women, grabbing the phone from Caroline. She stared at her empty hand in shock. “There are no bimbos here,” he said firmly to Caroline. “Elizabeth arrived late last night to help her sister Jane, who injured her back while here for dinner with Bing.”
Caroline seemed mollified for only a second, then her eyes narrowed. “You’re telling me we have two women to extract?”
