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“Do you now?” His voice teased her.
“Yes. A white one. And flowers.”
“Well, we must have flowers.”
Anne grinned. “Yes, we must.”
“I’m taking two weeks off from the campaign to take you on a honeymoon.”
Anne’s mouth opened slightly in shock. “What? Are you sure? Blane, that’s not necessary. We can do that later.”
“It’s absolutely necessary. We deserve a honeymoon.” He paused. “Is there a particular place you’d like to go? Or should I choose?”
Anne couldn’t stop smiling. “You choose,” she said softly. “I trust you.”
There was a pause. “I’m glad that you do.” His voice was soft. “I miss you.”
Anne sighed. “I miss you, too, but this wedding has to be more than just thrown together. I don’t know if you’ve realized, but you’re kind of important.” Her teasing made him chuckle.
“Overinflated importance,” he groused.
Anne hmphed.
“Did you quit your job?” he asked.
Anne bristled a bit. “Yes, but I still don’t know why that was necessary.”
“We’ve discussed this. Trying to secure you there would present incredible difficulties, and the other employees wouldn’t thank you for it. It’s for the best.”
Anne sighed. “I know. You’re right.”
“You’ll have a huge platform to influence and help once you’re First Lady.”
Anne laughed. “Well, aren’t we sure of ourselves.”
“You bet your very sweet ass, darling.”
She hesitated, then broached the forbidden subject. “Um, have you heard anything more or learned anything about Smithson and the crash?”
Blane didn’t immediately respond. Finally, he said, “Kade hasn’t been able to find the person who leaked the flight information. Smithson, while loathsome, didn’t order the hit. I think he honestly was sending us to a place where you could torture me.”
Anne grimaced. She’d been kidding herself to think that first, she could do something like that. And second, that Blane would be so easily broken by some socialite pretending to be a hardass.
“So who did?” she asked.
“We don’t know yet.” His voice had a frustrated quality to it, as though he was irritated at not being able to give her a proper answer.
“Do I need to worry?” About herself, or him. Though he’d been given Secret Service security now.
“Absolutely not.” His voice held a determination and steel that reassured Anne and she breathed easier.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Tired,” she admitted. “And I throw up every morning, but I’m ravenous in the evenings.”
Blane took that in. “Will you please come live with me? I want to go through this with you. Help you. Be there for you.”
Anne considered. “But how will that go over with the public? No one knows I’m pregnant. Yet. But it’s only a matter of time. I don’t want to throw a wrench into your campaign.”
