"Hi, Jeff," she sang out happily. "I was hoping you'd call." She thought Pierson relaxed marginally, his eyes showing a flicker of suspicion.

Several seconds of silence crackled over the cell phone while she prayed Drew had enough confidence in her to know something was wrong.

"Is Senator Pierson in the room with you?"

"That's right!" She smiled brightly, hoping Pierson couldn't detect her sigh of relief. She couldn't hide the nervous edge in her voice, but maybe that was a good thing. "How did you know?"

Pierson watched intently. She rolled her eyes for his benefit and mouthed, "My boyfriend," as if slightly embarra.s.sed to have one. His eyes narrowed, and she realized that making him think help was nearby could make it hard to stall him. "In Michigan," she added, hoping distance would ease his mind.

"Renke told us about Pierson coming over. I know you're alone with him." She listened through another pause and realized Drew was choosing his words carefully. "Is everything okay there?"

Smiling at Pierson, she told Drew, "No, not at all!"

Drew swore. "Has he hurt you?"

"No." She heard the blare of a horn followed by a screech that sounded like a car braking too fast. Chapman swore loudly in the background, making Lauren's heart race.

"We identified the other agent," Drew said, his voice as steady as if nothing had happened. "And there was only one official both agents had worked for-Pierson. We think he's the blackmailer. I'll bet he's the guy who tried to run us down outside the emba.s.sy, too."

"That's not surprising." She didn't know how to explain herself in front of Pierson. They'd obviously misjudged him, but it didn't seem like the blackmailer would tell them about Senator McNabb.

"Honey, I think he's been using us to find them, but now we're getting too many people involved and he has to stop it."

She bit her lip and glanced at the Senator. "Oh." Oh G.o.d. Suddenly Pierson's phone call about Renke and the others being on their way, and his constant clock watching, took on new meaning. "Yeah, I think you're right about that, honey."

Pierson watched her closely. Every part of her. His gaze made a leisurely trip down the center of her terrycloth robe, all the way down to her bare feet. He might be the blackmailer, but she was certain that right now his crime of choice was adultery.

Pierson was fit and barely past fifty. She had no hope of fending him off if it came to force. Playing along would be risky, but it might keep him under control until one of the five men who'd been so determined to protect her showed up.

Stalling wouldn't be enough. She could only think of one course of action, and it scared the s.h.i.t out of her. Forcing a nonchalance she didn't feel, Lauren sat on the arm of the sofa across from the Senator and crossed her legs. The robe fell open, revealing her bare legs from the upper thigh down. Pierson's gaze fell and stayed there. She pretended not to notice his interest as she listened to Drew.

"Lauren, listen carefully, but don't be scared. If we're right, sending the others away was probably a trap. He needs to get rid of them in a way that won't be connected to him."

"Can't you do anything about that?" She tried to make it sound like an unsightly mole that should be removed rather than three men who were most likely driving into an ambush.

"We're working on it." She could hear the frustration in his voice, and for a moment she felt bad for the situation Drew was in, torn between crises in two different directions. But just for a moment. She had her own crisis to worry about.

"Okay, honey."

"Look, I don't want to alarm you. You may be safe. He's probably waiting for a call telling him they've been taken care of. Until that happens I don't think he'll touch you."

"I don't agree."

Pierson looked at his watch, then checked the signal strength on his phone. Letting him get restless was not good. Swinging her leg, she allowed the robe to shift, exposing more thigh and giving Pierson a view that stopped a bare inch from her panties. He stared intently. He seemed to enjoy taking a good, long look before touching. In Drew, she would have appreciated it. In Pierson, it was disgusting. But the longer she kept him watching, the longer she avoided his hands on her.

"You don't agree with what?" Drew was stuck on her last response. "That it was a trap?" When she didn't answer, he tried again. "That he's waiting for a call? That he won't touch you?"

"That's the one," she told him.

"If that b.a.s.t.a.r.d lays one hand on you, I'll kill him." She heard a deep breath followed by one long exhalation as Drew made an attempt at control. "I'm calling for help."

Lauren imagined the police arriving with sirens blaring. Afraid of pushing the senator into a violent reaction, she said, "That sounds noisy." Scrunching her nose at Pierson, Lauren whispered, "He's in a rock band. Very noisy."

"Right," Drew said. "No sirens."

Pierson lifted his gaze, locking it on hers. Deliberately, he licked his lips. Lauren nearly gagged.

The last two inches of thigh must have been too much. He rose suddenly, walked to the window, and pulled the drapes closed. Then walked to the next window and closed those too.

Making her voice cheery, Lauren said, "So when will I see you again?"

"Fifteen minutes," Drew growled. "Less if I can help it."

She estimated Pierson to be ahead of Drew's schedule.

"Lauren, Chapman's calling for more agents right now. They'll probably get there sooner than I can."

Finished with the drapes, Pierson stood in front of her, close enough that her bare leg touched his pants. "Tell him you have to go now," Pierson growled.

She could refuse, but he looked prepared to enforce his order. "I have to go now, Jeff," she said brightly. "I'll see you soon."

Tires squealed through the phone again. Drew's grim voice said, "d.a.m.n right you will, sweetheart."

"Hang up," Pierson ordered.

Playing along was harder when he towered over her and every instinct told her to fight or run, neither of which would work. She took a shaky breath and smiled as if nothing were wrong, as if he weren't standing close enough to hear her heart hammering beneath her breast.

"'Bye," she said into the phone and disconnected. It felt like standing on the deck of the t.i.tanic t.i.tanic and throwing away the last life preserver. She was on her own. and throwing away the last life preserver. She was on her own.

Pierson took the phone from her hand and put it in his pocket. "We don't want any more interruptions." His finger traced the edge of her robe from the collar to between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "Do we," he added, not making it a question.

"Mmm," Lauren hummed, because her mouth had gone so dry with fear she couldn't form words. Time to kick up the action if he was going to believe her.

Gerald had told her how to win against Arrogant Government a.s.sholes, and Pierson certainly fit the definition. All she had to do was play by his rules. But since Pierson's rules seemed to include having s.e.x with him, winning this one was going to require a lot of risk. And a lot of confidence.

She never would have attempted it before knowing Drew. But he'd given her something Jeff never had; he'd made her feel desirable. s.e.xy. Confident of her ability to drive a man insane with l.u.s.t, then satisfy him to the point of exhaustion. She just needed to trust her instincts.

Sitting on the arm of the sofa put her at eye level with Pierson's tie. Taking a deep breath, Lauren pasted on a smile and made herself stroke the tie, because that was far better than stroking him. "I don't think there will be any more interruptions."

"I'll make sure of that." He didn't stop her from fondling his tie, but he watched her skeptically.

She lifted her gaze and came embarra.s.singly close to batting her lashes. "Sooo," she crooned, "what kind of women do you like, Senator? Adventurous? Dominant? Submissive?" None of the above was probably too much to hope for.

"Which kind are you?" Dodging the question, typical politician.

"Maybe I'm whatever kind you want me to be," she purred.

That sparked enough interest to make her regret leaving the choice up to him. "Willing and ready would be nice." He fondled her hair with a thoughtful expression. "But not necessary."

That about covered it all. She tried not to flinch from his hand as it brushed her cheek. "Willing and ready is easy. I was hoping we could get together from the first moment I saw you," she murmured.

"Were you." It was too cynical to be a question.

"I even fantasized about it. But not on a couch. I was thinking a bed might be better, and there's several to choose from upstairs."

"Honey, I hope you weren't planning on the standard missionary position. There's a lot you can do on a couch. I'll show you."

His leer sent her stomach into free fall, and she sincerely hoped this little stunt didn't ruin her appet.i.te for any of the plans she had for inventive s.e.x with Drew. "It's not so much the position I was thinking of. It's the toys."

"s.e.x toys?"

"Senator Creighton has a drawer full of them."

He grinned. "That sly dog. I should have guessed." He took her roughly by the shoulders, turning her toward the stairs. "Lead the way." Before she could move he pulled her back against him, nuzzling her neck and growling, "I can't wait."

He grabbed her bottom for a pinch, which was all she needed to make her rush up the stairs and into Senator Creighton's bedroom.

Pierson was right behind her. "Where are they?"

"Right here." She opened the nightstand drawer and moved the tissue box, exposing the collection.

He looked. "Interesting. How did you know about these?"

She folded her arms because it put something between them and gave an illusion that she wasn't one item of clothing away from naked. "Drew and I were, uh, looking for something to do."

He gave her a wolfish smile. "d.a.m.n. You should have called me."

"Well, you're here now, Senator. And Drew's not."

And if her idea didn't work, she was going to be wolf food.

His lip curved into a smug smile. "If we're going to be friends friends, Lauren, you can call me Paul." He emphasized friends in a way that gave it a whole new definition.

Lauren tipped her head and pretended to give it careful consideration. "Paul... hmm. I think I'd rather call you 'senator.' It's so... commanding."

It was a sickening performance, all coy and sweet, but he went for it. Unfortunately, he went for more, grabbing her by her upper arms and pulling her close. "That's what you like, eh? A commanding lover?"

He'd been preparing; the scent of breath mints nearly knocked her out. "Yes," she said, not having to try for a breathless whisper, since she was trying not to inhale. "But there seems to be a problem."

He frowned. "What problem?"

"Look at you." She patted his lapel, then stroked down his arms so he'd have to let go of her. "You're wearing a suit. You're fully dressed, and I'm..." She glanced at her robe before giving him another playful smile. "... not."

He raked a hot look to the sash at her waist. "I noticed." She antic.i.p.ated his move for the belt and pushed him away. "Uh-uh, Senator," she said, wagging her finger at him. "You first. I gave you a preview while I was on the phone, and now I want to see what I'm getting. After that," she fondled her belt, "I'll show you what you're getting." She purred seductively.

Yech. She was disgusting. Revolting. Afraid she'd overplayed the scene, Lauren prepared to laugh at herself. She was disgusting. Revolting. Afraid she'd overplayed the scene, Lauren prepared to laugh at herself.

She stopped just in time.

He was mesmerized. Staring at the loosely tied knot at her waist, he began unbuckling his belt. Dragging his shirt out of the way, he fumbled with the b.u.t.ton on his pants, clumsy in his haste to get out of his clothes.

Too fast! At this rate he'd be naked and pawing at her robe before her posse of rescuers could even MapQuest the address.

"Whoa there, sugar, slow down." Sugar? Lauren felt like she was channeling a hooker.

Pierson leered at her. "Just trying to show you the goods, doll. And once you see it, you're gonna want it. Bad."

"I'm sure I will." Remarkably, she didn't choke on the words. "But you have to tease a lady, take your time." She wiggled a finger, indicating his chest. "Start with your shirt."

He yanked his tie off in a couple quick moves. Starting in on the shirt b.u.t.tons, he c.o.c.ked his head at her. "I was kinda hopin' you weren't a lady, if you know what I mean."

She didn't, and preferred to leave it that way, but gave him a promising lift of her eyebrow.

The b.u.t.tons were undone, and Lauren silently thanked G.o.d for the cuff links that slowed him down for half a minute before the shirt hit the floor. His undershirt fell on top of it.

Pierson took a moment to inhale deeply, puffing his densely furred chest at her. She supposed a compliment was expected.

"Very nice," she said.

The side of his mouth curled in a roguish, James Dean way. "Women like a man with a hairy chest. You can touch it," he invited.

"Mmm, that's tempting, but I think I'll wait and touch everything at once." Where in the h.e.l.l were those Secret Service agents? Where in the h.e.l.l were those Secret Service agents?

"Then get ready to touch something special," Pierson growled, and dropped his pants.

Lauren couldn't miss the bulge in his boxers, and snapped her eyes shut before she blushed. Women like whoever she was pretending to be probably didn't blush at the evidence of a man's arousal. They probably gave it a frank stare. So she cracked her eyelids, hoping her slitted gaze resembled heated bliss, and looked at Pierson's hip as he lowered the boxers.

She gave it a full five seconds, then met his eyes. And smiled. And the Oscar goes to Lauren Sutherland. And the Oscar goes to Lauren Sutherland.

He grinned back, teeth bared. "Your turn," he said.

CHAPTER Fourteen.

Drew took another corner at something approaching Mach 1, sending the Ford into a sideways slide. Brakes squealed and Chapman cursed as his shoulder hit the window.

"G.o.dd.a.m.n it! This is government property, Creighton!"

The car rocked, then steadied, and Drew spared a glance at his pa.s.senger. "You or the car?"

Chapman sent him a scorching look. "Both. Do you think you can keep all four wheels on the ground long enough for me to make this phone call?"

At least he hadn't told him to slow down, not since his call to Lauren. Drew gave him credit for that, especially since Chapman realized his partner was heading into an ambush, along with Gerald and Mihaly. It had to be making him crazy. All they could do was call and warn Renke. Drew wasn't about to change course, and Chapman hadn't asked him to.