He lifted an eyebrow. He was still tingling all over and finding it hard to breathe. "How about after the election?"

She folded her arms over her telltale b.r.e.a.s.t.s and laughed jerkily. "Well, we'll see."

He smiled wickedly. "That's worth waiting for." He turned toward the door, paused and turned back, surveying her. "I guess I've turned a blind eye to Haralson, just as Mosby has. It's time we did something before it's too late."

"I can't possibly agree with you, because I work for the opposition," she stated.

"So I noticed." He drawled it, his smile sensuous and teasing.

She flushed and glowered all at once.

He laughed at her bridled fury. "Pretty thing," he murmured. "Now I know why the world went dark when you left."

"Why?"

"I'll tell you," he promised, going out the door. He stuck his head back in. "After the election!"

Chapter Sixteen.

Nikki avoided calling Kane all morning. She also avoided answering the telephone every time it rang. But that night it started and refused to stop. She put on the answering machine. That was worse.

"Answer me, Nikki," Kane growled. "I know you're there. What the h.e.l.l is wrong with you? Have you had second thoughts? Changed your mind?"

She swallowed. In order to save Clay-and Kane-she was going to have to lie. There was no other way. The thought of those sleazy photographs in the tabloids made her sick. She couldn't bear it.

She picked up the receiver and fought down nausea. "Kane, I have had second thoughts," she said in a dull, defeated tone. "I'm sorry. I really can't do this to Clayton."

"Your brother has his own life to live," he pointed out. "Nikki, we made love!"

"Yes. Th-thank you for the tutoring," she stammered, clutching the receiver. "I'll put it to good use."

There was a shocked pause. The receiver slammed down in her face. So much, she thought, for victories.

Clayton noticed Nikki's pallor, but he didn't understand what had caused it. She was so secretive lately, so tense. And he had problems of his own. Derrie and Haralson came immediately to mind, although in different ways.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Sure. How was Derrie?" she returned.

He smiled with soft pleasure. "Delicious, thank you," he murmured. "Odd that I never noticed her in six long years, isn't it?"

Nikki brightened at the look on his face. "Yes, I always thought so," she confessed.

"She's full of surprises, our Derrie." His smile faded and he began to look worried. "I wish I had time to explore them all. But there's a campaign waiting to be won and a few problems to solve. I'm not going to marry Bett," he said abruptly, facing his sister.

"Will wonders never cease?" Nikki sighed, smiling.

"I know, you never liked her."

"I never trusted her," came the dry reply. "Women can usually see through other women, Clay. She was never quite what she seemed, and it was pretty obvious to me that she liked what you were more than she liked who you were. As a congressman, you were of great value to her. If you'd lost the election, I'm afraid it would have been another story. She doesn't look at you like a woman in love should look at a man."

He searched her green eyes and realized abruptly what she meant. The way she'd been with Kane Lombard when they danced had been a revelation to him. Not since Mosby had Nikki looked like that. He felt rather sad that he'd been so adamant about keeping her apart from the industrialist. On the other hand, Lombard was a polluter and deserved everything he got. But there was still the problem of Haralson. He owed the man for his help; especially his help unmasking Lombard's polluting of the natural environment. But Haralson was becoming a liability that he couldn't afford. It was just a question of time before the man was going to cross the line and do something illegal.

His eyes narrowed. "I've had time to do some serious thinking about Haralson, especially since Derrie seems to agree with you. I've decided that you're right. I'm going to send him back to Washington and get someone else to run my campaign."

She brightened a little. "Oh, Clay. I'm so glad. You're doing the right thing!"

"I suppose so. But he was a h.e.l.l of a campaign coordinator. Who's going to replace him?"

"Me."

His eyebrows lifted and then he chuckled. "Yes! Why not? You'd be a natural!"

He wouldn't have thought so even a week ago, but apparently the way he'd misjudged Derrie had turned his att.i.tude around. Nikki knew that she could do a better job than Haralson, and in a less underhanded way.

Nikki watched him move toward the door. "Where are you going?"

"To give Haralson his walking papers, of course," he returned. He grinned at her. "I'll expect you at the office at eight sharp tomorrow morning, Miss Seymour. You are now a working stiff."

"You can count on me," she a.s.sured him.

She could only hope that with Haralson out of the picture, the threat of those photographs hanging over her might conveniently disappear.

Kane was half out of his mind over Nikki's change of heart. He could hardly believe that she cared so little for him. He'd been certain last night that she loved him.

But what if guilt was making her turn away from him? She was a virgin, and he hadn't known. He'd backed her into a corner, all but forced her. Did she hate him? He had to know! But how was he going to find out?

Mrs. Yardley knocked on the door and peeked around it. "It's Mr. Jurkins, sir," she said. "He'd like a word with you, if it's convenient."

"It's convenient," he said dully. "Send him in."

Will Jurkins was wearing a two-year-old suit with scuffed shoes. He looked the least prosperous of any employee Kane had. He stared at the other man for a long moment. If he'd suspected Jurkins of taking kickbacks to change solid waste companies, it was hardly evident.

"Yes, Jurkins? What can I do for you?" he asked with faint impatience.

"I keep hearing gossip," the other man said slowly. He was twisting a paper clip in his nervous fingers. "I just would like to know if they plan to try to put you in jail over this, sir."

"Bob Wilson says that it's unlikely," Kane replied. He perched himself on the edge of his desk. "Probably we'll be fined. But that sewage leak didn't do us any favors with the state and federal environmental people."

"Yes, I know, and that's my fault. That leak was a legitimate accident, Mr. Lombard," Jurkins said earnestly. "I wouldn't do anything illegal. I mean I wouldn't have. I have a little girl, six years old," he stammered. "She has leukemia. I can take her to St. Jude's for treatment, you see, and it's free. But there's the medicine and she has to see doctors locally and the insurance I had at my old job ran out. She isn't covered under the insurance here. It's that preexisting conditions clause," he added apologetically.

"I know about that," Kane replied. "Almost thirty million Americans have no health insurance, you know, and people with preexisting conditions can't get any, period. If we get a new administration in November, perhaps we'll have a chance of changing all that."

"I hope so, sir. But that wasn't why I came."

Kane lifted a questioning eyebrow. Jurkins was almost shaking. "Sit down, Jurkins," he said, gesturing to a chair.

Jurkins looked oddly thin and frail in the big leather armchair. He was still twisting the paper clip. "I hope you won't get in too much trouble."

"At least they aren't going to shut us down," Kane returned.

Jurkins hesitated. He looked up and opened his mouth. He wanted to speak. But he couldn't make the words come out. He got to his feet again, jerkily, red-faced.

"I'll, uh, get back to work now, sir," he said. His voice was unsteady. So was the smile. "I hope it works out."

"So do I." Kane sat on the edge of the desk when the man left and kept going over the odd conversation. Something was definitely wrong there. Jurkins knew something and he was afraid to tell it. He pushed the intercom b.u.t.ton. "Get me Bob Wilson," he said.

"Yes, sir," came the quick reply.

Haralson stared at Clayton Seymour as if he couldn't believe his own ears.

"You're firing me?" he asked the other man. "Are you serious?"

"I'm afraid so. I'm going to give Nikki your job."

Haralson, always so cordial and kind, suddenly turned nasty. He sat up in the chair, holding his cigar between his cold fingers, and reached into his desk drawer. "No, you aren't. Want to know why?"

"Do tell me," Clayton invited with smiling, cool confidence.

Haralson drew a photograph, an 8 x 10 glossy, out of the drawer and tossed it across the desk to Clayton.

"If you want to see that on the front page of every tabloid in the country, fire me."

Clayton gasped. It wasn't blatant, for a photograph of that sort, but it made innuendoes that were unmistakable. That was Kane Lombard-and his sister!

"I'm sure you'll see things my way," Haralson said pleasantly. "I'm going to get you back in office, of course, that's a byproduct. But my main purpose is to bury Lombard. He cost my father his cabinet position. He found out that my father was having an affair with an intern and he told his family and they spilled it to the whole d.a.m.ned world!

"I was in my last year of school when it happened, but I never forgot. We lived in a small town in Texas, and that sleazy tabloid ran the story week after week after week! My mother killed herself over it, and I swore I'd make Lombard and his family pay! It's all been a means to an end-my job with Torrance, everything! Torrance had no choice but to hire me, and to send me here to help you when I told him to," he added, laughing. "You see, I have friends who know the ins and outs of the detecting game. And I know all about Mosby Torrance."

"What do you know, exactly?" Clayton asked.

"That he's gay."

Clayton couldn't reply. He didn't dare say a word. The man was unbalanced, and if he wanted to believe that about Mosby for the time being, it might be safer than the truth. He looked down at the photo.

"Take it with you," Haralson invited. "I still have the negatives. And tell your sister she'll have no opportunity to make that monster, Lombard, happy. I told her on the phone that she'd see those pictures published if she took one step toward Lombard. I won't let him have any happiness. He's going to pay and pay and keep on paying until he's as dead as my mother is!"

Clayton wandered back to his office with his mind in limbo. Haralson was dangerous. How could he have missed the signs? Mosby was afraid of the man because he thought Haralson knew the truth. In fact, he didn't, but that hardly mattered if he had Mosby on the run. Now he had Nikki on the run. Clayton didn't know what to do. If he showed the photo to Nikki in her present state of mind, she might lose it.

The election was less than a month away. Haralson had something else up his sleeve. No doubt he was going to publish those photos anyway. He'd probably wait until the last possible minute and then let fly. The scandal would destroy Nikki socially. It would ruin Lombard in the process. It might even do enough damage to Sam Hewett's campaign-because Kane's brother was his campaign manager-to cost Hewett the election. Clayton wanted to win. But not that way!

He only knew of one possible thing to do, to stop Haralson in time. It was probably the mistake of his life. He got in his car and drove out to Seabrook, to the new Lombard beach house.

If Kane Lombard was shocked to find Clayton Seymour standing on his doorstep, he hid it quickly. He had a gla.s.s of scotch and ice in one big hand. His eyebrow jerked as he stood aside to let the shorter man enter.

The beach house was luxurious, Clayton thought, and right on the marina. It must have cost a fortune. Well, Kane had one.

"Is this a social call?" Kane drawled.

"Thank your lucky stars that I'm not homicidal," Clayton returned. He glanced around. "Are you alone?"

Kane nodded. "What is it?"

"I think you'd better have a look at this." He took the photograph from the inside of his suit jacket and tossed it on the coffee table.

Kane's eyes darkened. He cursed violently.

"Who?" he demanded, his eyes promising retribution.

"My reelection campaign manager," Clayton said heavily. "I went in to fire him this morning and he handed me that." He glared at the older man. "I could kill you for doing this to Nikki."

"I made love to Nikki," he returned solemnly. "Please notice the wording. I didn't seduce her, have s.e.x with her, or any number of less discreet euphemisms. I made love to her."

Clayton relaxed a little. Not much. He was still furious. "Did it have to be on the beach?"

"I couldn't make it to the house," came the rueful reply. The smile faded quickly though. "Has Nikki seen this?" he asked suddenly.

"No, Nikki heard about this," he said. "She was warned not to go near you or these pictures would be smeared over the front page of every tabloid he could reach by the next morning."

"So that was all it was. Thank G.o.d." Kane relaxed, looking as if he'd just won a state lottery. In another state, of course, South Carolina didn't have one.

"Haven't you talked to her?"

"I've tried to do nothing else," the other man said heavily. "She said it was all a mistake, and I believed she meant it." His head lifted. "But now I'm going to marry her. If you don't like it, that's tough," he added without blinking, his face hard and relentless.

"At least you're honorable enough to stand by her," Clayton said stiffly.

"Stand by her, h.e.l.l. I love her! Do you think I'd have touched her in the first place if I hadn't had honorable intentions?" he demanded. "She was a virgin, for G.o.d's sake!"

Clayton gaped at him. He hadn't expected that answer. "A virgin?"

"You didn't know?"

"It's hardly the sort of thing a man can discuss with his sister." He hesitated. So many things were beginning to become clear. "I thought Nikki knew it all. She doesn't really know anything..." He looked up. "You said you loved her."

"I loved her the day I met her," came the grim reply. "I couldn't stop. I tried, though." Kane took a sip of the scotch. His head lifted and he glared at the other man. "You're a d.a.m.ned blackguard of a politician. You planted that waste at the dump site deliberately and led the media to it."

"No, I didn't," Clayton said honestly. "Haralson had one of his cronies find the dump and call in the media. I still don't know all of it. The one thing I'm sure of is why he did it. Your father apparently printed a story about his father that got him kicked off the president's cabinet some years ago and Haralson's mother committed suicide. It's you he's after, not Sam Hewett."

Kane whistled. "I wondered why the name sounded familiar. It's a wonder I didn't recognize it sooner, but I had other things on my mind." He looked up and frowned. "But why are you here?"