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After hours of tossing and turning, she was just as awake as she had been when she’d stretched out on the mattress. Her mind replayed things her day with Darcy: his apology in the limo, the words in the front hallway, his smile in the library. Maybe she should have stayed downstairs to speak with him. Maybe she shouldn’t have accepted the invitation to stay overnight. Then there were the images: memories of his laughter on the beach and his haunting stare at dinner.
One minute she was convinced that he was still interested in her, and goosebumps would form all over her body. The next minute she knew that he could never forgive the awful things she had said to him, and her mood would grow heavy and black. Perhaps he simply wanted them to be better friends. But then there was the conversation in the foyer. She had never looked at a friend that way…
Surely the President of the United States didn’t lack for company; he was constantly surrounded by people. On the other hand, spending most of the day with him had demonstrated how isolated his life was. When every movement required a seven-car motorcade, you weren’t going to drop by the nearest diner to chat up the locals or meet your buddies for some wings. Aside from Fitz and Bing, he didn’t seem to have many friends. Even Caroline was more like a hanger-on than a true companion.
What did Elizabeth even want from him? The thought of a relationship provoked shivers of excitement but also prickles of apprehension. He had been affable and charming today, but everyone was relaxed on vacation. Was the cold and distant William Darcy waiting in the wings, ready to rip out her heart the moment she opened it up to him?
Wait a minute. My heart? What the hell am I thinking? When did my heart become involved?
Elizabeth bolted upright in bed, staring at the opposite wall. She couldn’t possibly feel anything that deep for Will. Why, compared to her last boyfriend…or the one before him…
Oh.
There was no comparison. Will left the others in the dust. She’d loved her previous boyfriends, but never with such intensity, and their breakups had been fairly smooth. There had never before been a guy who had consumed her thoughts from morning to night. At times he filled her mind so completely that there was no room left for anything else.
Oh, God. She embraced her blanket-clad legs and rested her face on her knees. I’m in love with the President of the United States.
Suddenly her heart pounded so violently that it shook her whole body. Her breathing sounded like she had completed a marathon. She laughed humorlessly, the sound muffled by her knees. This would be a disaster. Even if he did want a relationship, so many things stood in the way: his security, his staff, the press, public opinion… Not to mention that he might revert to the proud and difficult President Darcy at any moment.
None of that matters. The die had already been cast. I already gave away my heart. The only question is: What will I do about it?
There was no chance this would end well. His job would someday inevitably divide them. Her heart would be broken. Knowing that, she should run as fast and as far from him as possible. The only problem was she didn’t want to go.
She stared at the wall for a long time, her thoughts tumbling over each other but always running in the same circles. Then her stomach rumbled. I could barely swallow a bite at dinner, and now I’m famished. Ignoring the feelings didn’t work; with every passing minute, her stomach grew more growly. Maybe if I ate something then I could sleep.
The digital clock on the bedside table read 2:08 a.m. It had been more than two hours since everyone had retired for the night, so the downstairs was likely to be empty. Will had said the Secret Service agents remained outside the house at night, and the staff lived offsite. Maybe she could slip downstairs and snatch a sliver of that decadent-looking cheesecake.
At that thought her stomach grumbled loudly. “All right, all right,” she muttered as she pushed the covers aside and slid to the floor. Pausing at the door, she considered pulling her sweatshirt over her tank top and pajama bottoms, but the house was rather stuffy, and she wouldn’t be downstairs very long.
She crept through her door onto the balcony that overlooked the living room. The interior of the house was completely dark; the only illumination was from floodlamps outside shining in through the glass—bright enough to light the way down the curved staircase and into the foyer.
Instinctively she moved quietly as she padded to the kitchen. It was rather silly; nobody slept on this floor, but the quest for food seemed illicit enough that she wanted to disturb as little as possible.
In the kitchen, she switched on the overhead lights. The room was like something out of a contemporary version of Downton Abbey with its gleaming appliances and copious counter space. There were two refrigerators, one so large it had to be designed for restaurants. She found the cheesecake in the smaller unit, and a little searching yielded a plate and utensils. Within a minute she was perched on a stool beside the marble-topped island, savoring a slice of mocha cheesecake that was just as delectable as she had imagined. Elizabeth couldn’t hold back a soft moan.
“Are you all right?”
Elizabeth’s fork clattered to the floor. She whirled around to find Will standing in the doorway, softly illuminated in the yellow glow of the overhead lights. He was wearing long pajama bottoms and a t-shirt that she couldn’t help noticing fit snugly over a chest that was more muscular than a politician’s chest had any right to be. He looked…delicious. Far better than the cheesecake.
His presence had always unsettled her, but her recent realizations had completely stripped away her defenses. She could practically feel the weight of his gaze on her skin. Her cheeks immediately heated. Oh God, I’m blushing. Can he guess what I was thinking about him? She hastily averted her eyes.
He watched her expectantly. Oh, right. He had asked a question. “I’m f-fine—I-I just—” She gestured helplessly at the cheesecake.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Will crossed the room in long, elegant strides until he stood directly in front of her stool. Close enough that she could smell the faint scent of sandalwood. Elizabeth’s breath caught. What would he do?
His eyes dropped to the floor, and he bent to retrieve her fork. Strolling to the far counter, he dropped her fork in the sink and unerringly opening the correct drawer to retrieve another one.
Her eyes were incapable of focusing on anything else in the room as he returned to her stool. She accepted the new fork automatically. “Um,” Elizabeth mumbled, “I-I’m having cheesecake.” Thanks for the update, Captain Obvious.
A slight smile curved up one corner of his mouth. “When you didn’t eat any at dinner, I thought maybe you didn’t care for cheesecake.”
He had noticed? “I love cheesecake. I just didn’t—I wasn’t hungry for it then.” She gave a little laugh that sounded fake to her ears. “But up in my room I could hear it calling my name.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, me, too. I couldn’t forget how good it was. Do you mind if I join you?”
A chill raced down her spine. “Not at all.”
He poured himself a glass of milk and then pulled the cheesecake from the refrigerator. “I always like milk with dessert,” he said. What a ridiculously ordinary fact to know about the leader of the free world.
