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“No! Okay…yes, but one spent the night with Bing—” Yeah, that sounded wrong, too. Maybe everything sounded sordid when connected to the Residence—like you shouldn’t even think of sex anywhere near the Lincoln Bedroom.
“Jane was sedated with painkillers, and Bing watched over her,” Elizabeth quickly clarified.
Caroline ignored Elizabeth, speaking directly to Darcy. “You know this will be a juicy story for the media. We need to get them both out before any reporters arrive.”
Elizabeth shuddered, no doubt at the thought of becoming part of a media circus. “We can get her out of here—even if it’s in a wheelchair.”
Darcy didn’t want her to leave, but that reaction was utterly nonsensical. “I’ll contact the staff for a wheelchair,” he said quickly. Elizabeth glanced at him out of the corner of her eye; did she think he was eager for her departure?
Before he could speak, Elizabeth turned toward the door. “I’ll see if Jane is awake.”
She can’t leave like this. I need to find out why she is angry at me. I need to apologize for Caroline. I—
With an air of profound relief, Elizabeth hurried out of the kitchen. Darcy’s eyes followed her, but he could do nothing to stop her. The moment she was gone, he rounded on Caroline. “You could have been nicer. Elizabeth was only here to help her sister.”
Caroline regarded him coolly. “And somehow that translated into the need to spend the night at the Residence. How convenient.”
Darcy flinched. Was it possible it had been a ruse? All that concern for her sister? The righteous indignation at his assumptions? She had a quick wit that could be construed as flirtatious. However, not once had she seemed particularly interested in him. Of course, she had stayed up with him for hours… Was it all part of an act? He should have been appalled at the idea. But his disgust at the thought was noticeably…weak.
Still, he couldn’t allow Caroline to attribute such mercenary motives to Elizabeth. “I don’t think that’s what she’s after.”
Caroline laughed, a trill that ran up and down the scale. “You are so innocent sometimes, Will. I frequently wonder how you managed to wind up in the White House.”
Darcy suppressed an urge to snap at her. Caroline and Bing were great additions to his team because they’d known him before he’d gone into politics. But sometimes he wished Caroline was a little more intimidated by his office.
“To a woman like that, you’d be the catch of a lifetime,” she continued.
Darcy rolled his eyes. “Her family has plenty of money. She doesn’t need my family’s fortune.”
Caroline huffed. “Very few people believe they have enough money, Will.”
“Elizabeth’s not like that,” he insisted. Didn’t Caroline think he could spot a gold digger by this point in his life?
She shrugged. “She might not be looking for a ring, just bragging rights.”
Darcy had encountered plenty of women like that, too. “Funny, she seemed more interested in talking about Zavene than in seducing me.” A fact that Darcy should not find disappointing.
“She could be playing a long game—concealing her true motives,” Caroline said tartly. “In any case, we need to get both of them out of here as quickly as possible.”
“You and Elizabeth seem united on that point.” As much as he would love to have her stay for breakfast and a tour…
Caroline crossed her arms over her chest. “She’s dangerous for you, Will. Stay away from her.”
Chapter Seven
“Tell me about this guy,” Elizabeth demanded.
“I don’t know much.” The phone muffled Jane’s voice. “His name is Bill Collins. He’s got brown hair…not very tall…I only spoke with him a little after the auction. Since then we’ve been emailing.”
“What does he do?” Her high heels weren’t designed for pacing, but Elizabeth had to burn off her nervous energy.
“I don’t remember…” Jane sounded thoughtful. “Something in marketing maybe?”
“You will owe me big time.” Elizabeth’s sofa beckoned to her enticingly—soft and comfy, perfect for a night of sweat pants and binge watching. Hell, she’d even take a night of organizing the embarrassingly tall piles of paper on her desk. Instead she was trying not to breathe too deeply, or she’d risk popping a seam on her floor-length gown.
“You’re not doing it for me,” Jane reminded her sweetly. “You’re doing it for the children, remember?”
Elizabeth sighed. Jane had her there. Months ago, Jane had participated in a “dream date” auction to benefit Help Our Children Eat. Of course, being beautiful and sweet, Jane’s dream date had raised a lot of money. The winning bidder, Bill Collins, now wanted his date.
