Madam President

Chapter III

March 2021


Wednesday, March 3rd


Washington D.C. was a mud pit. Snow had given way to a deep, icy slush, which, in turn, mutated into a soupy, dirty sludge. But, thankfully, the spring warm front had parked itself over the nation’s capital and had finally vanquished even the last signs of what had been a brutal winter. Lauren cocked her head toward the window, hearing the faintest chirping of a robin. Oh, yeah, she sighed. I am so ready for spring.

The writer smiled at the vase of fresh-cut, yellow roses that brightened her desk. Every evening when she made her way to her room, a fresh bouquet was there to greet her. At first, she assumed that they were delivered to every room in the residence as a matter of course. Then she realized she hadn’t seen them anywhere but her room. She had asked David McMillian about it, and the man just snorted, never really answering her question.

This sunny morning, the President was in a meeting with her National Security Advisor, and Lauren took the time to start researching a topic that had been niggling at her for weeks. She had thought Devlyn might discuss it with her herself. But the few times that it naturally came up in the conversation, Devlyn looked tense, angry perhaps. Unable to bear the shadows of pain behind Dev’s eyes, Lauren steered the conversation into different waters, despite the fact that Dev appeared willing to press forward. Thankfully, this part of the President’s past had already been very well publicized.

With a series of quick commands, Lauren fired up her computer and logged on.

"Good morning, Ms. Strayer," the soft computer voice greeted her.

"Good morning." She laughed at her response. She always answered the greeting, even though it was a machine. It somehow just seemed rude not to. "Search files. Marlowe, Devlyn."

"Searching. Files located. Directory?"

Lauren leaned back in her chair and removed her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose as the earpiece found its way into her mouth. "Sub-directory: Marlowe, Samantha. Source: All available."

"Searching. Files located. Directory?"

"Open all files. Most recent first. Current directory."

"File name: Sentencing Hearing. Harris, Theodore, 5/17/2017"

A three-dimensional video image cued up, and Lauren replaced her glasses, sliding her chair back a foot or two to maximize the resolution of the image. Dev was in a wood- paneled courtroom, and the mere sight of her caused Lauren to suck in an unexpected breath. The dark-haired woman was standing alongside a podium, her face drawn and tired looking, dark circles ringing normally bright eyes. She looks like she’s been to hell and back.

"If it pleases the Court," Dev paused and took a sip of water. "I stand here before you today, not as the Governor of the state of Ohio, but as a victim. I stand before you, a spouse in mourning over the loss of my… my wife…"

Dev’s eyes flashed, and Lauren could see a barely suppressed rage mingled with a profound sadness, both begging to be released. "I spent nearly fifteen years with Samantha and intended to spend many more." Her penetrating gaze flicked sideways, and her face hardened. "Except that that man," she pointed to a bearded, frazzled-looking man who appeared to be in his early thirties, "decided to get behind the wheel of a car after drinking all night. As has already been proven, he was speeding along in a drunken stupor when he broadsided the car that Samantha was driving. Mind you, his car was fully equipped with auto-drive. And that would have prevented the accident. If he had bothered to turn it on!"

Lauren leaned forward, watching intently as Devlyn paused again, fighting to keep her emotions in check. Her chest felt tight, Dev’s tension making it hard for her to breathe.

"The defendant left that crash scene with barely a scratch to show for it. And while Samantha Marlowe lay…ble…bleed… bleeding and dying, trapped in her car, he continued on his merry way to the liquor store to buy more booze!"

The image quickly shifted to the defendant, whose head was now in his hands, before panning back to Devlyn. Lauren recognized Jane in the gallery.

"It took the fire department nearly an hour to tear apart the car and get her out. And… and by that time she was already…." Dev’s voice dropped to a whisper, "she was dead."

The sound of weeping could be heard in the background, and Lauren wondered whether it was a friend or family member of Samantha’s or the defendant himself.

Dev’s jaw worked for a moment, and she stepped back around behind the podium. Her eyes dropped down to look at the notes she had spread out on the slanted wooden surface. They were crinkled and tattered, and Dev suddenly pushed them away, as though deciding not to use them after all.

Lauren looked from the papers to Dev. It was too personal to be read in open court, wasn’t it?

"She left behind three beautiful children," a tiny smile edged her lips, and Lauren smiled back sadly. No matter what the circumstances, Dev always smiled when she mentioned her kids. "Our three-year-old daughter, Ashley, whom Samantha adopted as soon as I had her. Our son, Christopher, who is one. He… um... he took his first steps the day after Samantha was killed." Sniffles joined the sound of muted weeping in the background. "And our youngest baby, Aaron, who was barely four weeks old when she was killed."

Dev’s composure began to crack, and hot tears slowly crept down her cheeks, plunking lightly onto the papers in front of her. Lauren closed her eyes briefly, her stomach churning. She didn’t want to see anymore, but she knew she had to.

"These three bright and wonderful children will never know the love of this woman who took care of them, and in the case of Chris and Aaron, carried them in her body, gave them the very lives they live today. Because of his carelessness… his recklessness… his indifference and disregard for human life…" Devlyn spat. "Because of his refusal to seek treatment after his previous two DWIs, I have lost my partner and my best friend. He destroyed my family," Dev stopped, completely unable to continue.

She won’t even say his name, Lauren thought.

Dev took a deep breath and stilled her shaking hands, making firm eye contact with the judge. "I request that this Court do the right thing and sentence this man to the maximum time allowed by Ohio state law for the crimes of which he has been convicted. I’ll never get Samantha back." Her voice shook. "Our children have lost an irreplaceable part of their lives. The community has lost an outstanding, contributing member. He," she jerked her head toward the defendant, "should lose as much as we have." Dev squared her shoulders. "But that’s not possible. So his freedom is the least that he can give."

David suddenly entered the picture, wrapping a strong arm around Devlyn’s waist as she appeared to falter for just a second.

"Halt image." Lauren reached under the lens of her glasses, catching a salty tear just as it began to fall. She’d had enough. "Computer, tell me the sentencing of one," she glanced down at the handwritten notes in her lap, "Teddy or Theodore E. Harris. Convicted of aggravated vehicular manslaughter in Ohio, 5/14/2017."

"Searching. File located. No visual."

The writer stared at the frozen image on the screen, looking directly at Dev’s shell-shocked face. "Open," she said quietly.

"Harris, Theodore, a k a, Harris, Teddy, case number 12843CR17, sentenced on 5/18/2017 to two years in Lebanon State Prison…"

Lauren’s jaw dropped. "Two years?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Two lousy years!"

The computer continued, unfazed by the woman’s outburst. "Paroled on 5/19/2018, after serving twelve months."

"My God," Lauren whispered. She took off her glasses and disgustedly tossed them onto the desk, rubbing her watery eyes.

The phone on her desk startled her from her thoughts. "Computer off." She wiped her eyes once more and reached over, tapping the video feature on the phone. She was immediately greeted by Dev’s smiling face.

"Hi there."

The President leaned back in her chair, and Lauren could tell by the background that Dev was in the Oval Office. "How was your meeting?"

"Top secret." Dev grinned and wrinkled her nose in a way Lauren found impossibly endearing.

It would be nice to watch laugh lines form around those baby blues. I’ll bet Samantha was looking forward to that. "Of course. I’m sorry."

"No problem. Listen, it just so happens that I’m sort of free for lunch. If you don’t mind eating in my office, that is. I can sign my name, talk to you and eat my lunch at the same time." The smile slipped from Devlyn’s face, and she eyed Lauren worriedly, idly noting the absence of her glasses. "Is… um… are you okay, Lauren? You look a little upset."

Lauren smiled softly, and made a conscious effort to brighten her somber mood. "I’m fine. And you can do all those things at the same time?" Her voice was playful. "My, my, you are multitalented."

Hush, Dev. But she couldn’t keep a charming, slightly mischievous grin from stretching across her face. "Years of experience. How about it?"

"Dunno," the blonde teased. "Lemme check my calendar and see if the Prime Minister of Great Britain has…"

"Hardy har har."

Lauren chuckled. "I’ll be right down."

* * *

"I don’t give a good goddamn!" Dev slammed her fist against her desk.

Lauren heard the jarring thud and winced at its intensity as she quietly closed the door. The entire White House didn’t need to hear this. When she turned, Dev was on her feet, the receiver pressed tightly against her ear. "What do you mean they changed their minds? They’re only allowed to do that when they disagree with… well… me! Get those votes back. I won’t lose this because some lame ass Democrats can’t decide which side of the fence to stand on!"

The biographer couldn’t resist. She brought her camera up and began clicking off several frames. Damn, Dev, you do have a temper, don’t you? Lauren smiled inwardly. That pulsing vein on your forehead would make an impressive book cover shot.

"Find them! And don’t call me back until you do." She slammed the phone down and then hit the intercom switch. She took a deep breath, purposely calming herself before speaking. "Jane…"

"The Chief of Staff is already on his way, Madam President. He was at a meeting on the Hill, but he’s coming now. I put the call in as soon as the Deputy Chief of Staff phoned you."

"God bless you, Jane." Dev leaned against her desk with her palms against the flat surface. "Thank you." She sighed. "Are you having fun being President yet?"

Jane laughed. "Uh huh…. and you’re welcome."

The President switched off the intercom and sheepishly glanced up at Lauren.

"Hold it!" Lauren commanded, crouching down and changing the angle of the picture, and focusing the lens.

Dev shook her head and burst out laughing. She moved around the desk and leaned on its edge, crossing her long, silk covered-arms across her chest. "Suddenly I feel like a fashion model." She struck a pose, causing Lauren to giggle.

"You could have done that, you know… been a model. The camera loves you." Lauren lowered her camera. "Do I want to know what’s got you so upset?"

Dev pursed her lips unhappily. "Ah, my DNA Registration legislation is meeting with some last minute and very unexpected resistance."

"I knew that was gonna happen," Lauren said absent-mindedly as she fussed with her camera lens.

Twin eyebrows jumped.

Lauren shrugged. "During that meeting last week, well, they just didn’t seem like they’d made up their minds. I didn’t believe them when they said they’d support you. It was those Yankees from New Jersey that turned on you, wasn’t it?" She made a face. "I think they were just here for the free lunch."

"Well, next time feel free to warn me, okay?" Dev chuckled. "Speaking of lunch, looks like I’m skipping it today. There is a little bipartisan butt that needs kicking." For once the Emancipation Party seemed to unite behind an issue. It’s really not a good idea for you boys to stab me in the back like that. Time a few people found that out.

"No problem." Lauren waved a dismissive hand, bringing the camera to her ear to listen to the film rewind. There were easier ways to take pictures. But she loved this old camera, enjoying that she had to think to use it. "Want a spectator? It’s been, ooooooh…" she put her fingertip to her chin, pretending to think, "at least a week since I’ve seen a bipartisan butt kicking. I need my fix." The writer grinned.

"I’d be honored, madam." The President jumped down and bowed slightly at the waist before retaking her perch. "I’ll even be your escort." Dev stopped speaking for a moment and stared intently at Lauren. "Would you vote ‘yes’ for my bill? You’ve heard more than enough about it to make a well-informed decision."

Lauren sighed resignedly. Why did Devlyn always do this? She winced then drew in a deep breath. "Well… um…"

"Lauren." Dev’s impatient voice dropped an octave.


"No?!" Dev exploded off the desk and marched over to other woman.

Lauren shook her head firmly, adopting a more stubborn pose as Devlyn approached. "No."



"You’re joking."

The younger woman just waited.

Devlyn threw her hands in the air. "But why? I rejected the Republican proposal requiring every person to submit a DNA sample at birth."

Lauren lifted a sassy eyebrow, letting Dev know exactly how she felt about the little suggestion made by the Speaker of the House.

"My proposal only registers people when they’re arrested. Isn’t there a single Democrat who will see reason?"

"Apparently not. And innocent people get arrested every day," Lauren said reasonably, opening the door to Dev’s office. "It’s invasive and creepy. Like Big Brother or something."

Dev motioned with her hands as they walked. She was in full ‘persuasion’ mode. "We already fingerprint people when they’re arrested. And this will ultimately save lives and help solve future crimes."

The younger woman stopped walking. "Fingerprints are not…" Lauren shivered and said her next word with so much distaste that Dev nearly laughed, "blood. You can’t clone people from their fingerprints. And what if someone decided to do something hinky with all those samples, huh?" Okay, she was half-teasing about that last part. But she knew Devlyn would bite.

"Arrrrrghhhh! I don’t want to clone anyone! God," Dev rolled her eyes as they turned the corner and made their way down the hallway leading toward the Green Room. "They’re still showing those damned "X-Files" reruns on television, aren’t they?"

Round, gray eyes were the picture of innocence as the women continued on their way.


Thursday, March 4th


"So," from the door of Lauren’s room, Dev grinned over her mug of coffee, "you want to take a trip with me?"

"Business or personal?" The blonde smiled back as she looked up from her journal and at the President.

"Does it really matter?"

"I’ll need to know what to pack."

Dev rolled her shoulders, and with her free hand unbuttoned her blazer, leaving it on. "It’s business. Our protocol specialist, Mrs. Baldridge, will help you with what to take." She took another sip, then set her ruby red mug on a coaster on the corner of Lauren’s second coffee table. Silently, she gestured at the couch.

Lauren nodded her approval and snagged a stack of mail from her desk as she joined the President.

Dev settled down across from Lauren, bouncing a little on the springy cushion. She looked around covertly for Gremlin, the Devil Dog. "Your room smells nice," she commented idly.

"It’s the flowers."

"Umm, nice…" Dev figured Gremlin was hiding someplace and would jump out and growl at her later. But for now, she’d focus on Grem’s mistress. "Lauren, I’d love for you to come, of course. But I’ll understand if you need a break." Though she didn’t like the idea of not seeing the writer every day, Dev did appreciate that the daily grind could be oppressive at times. "We’ve been at this for nearly two solid months. Surely you’re getting tired of me."

"Nah." Lauren stretched. "Compared to Supergeek, who spoke computer gibberish most of the time, and Cardinal O’Roarke, who napped from 12:00 P.M. to 4:00 P.M. every single day, you’re a dream," she teased.

Dev bit the inside of her cheek. "Gee, thanks."

Lauren laughed softly as she sorted through her mail. Most of it was junk, which she left unopened, but she did retain a thick manila envelope that was from Starlight Publishing. She was certain it was an advance copy of her latest book, but she was slightly embarrassed by the notion of Dev’s seeing this particular piece of work. Lauren dragged her eyes up from her envelope.

"You’re very dedicated. I appreciate that," Dev commented sincerely.

Lauren flushed with pleasure. Coming from a true workaholic, that was a big compliment. "So, where are we going, Madam President?"

"We’re going to the U. S. Embassy in the United Arab Alliance. I need to oversee some trade negotiations. And there are certain - shall we call them ‘diplomatic’ - issues that are more easily resolved if I host the talks at our Embassy."

Lauren gave Dev a confused look, still fingering the envelope in her hand. "Diplomatic issues?"

Dev grunted her agreement. "The whole ‘she’s a woman and a demon lesbian’ diplomatic issue." She smiled wryly. "In the Embassy we’re technically on American soil. And what is punishable by death in their country, is, well, it will be begrudgingly accepted at the U. S. Embassy. It would also be a great insult for them to turn down my invitation. These people are very respectful of their traditions, and they won’t want to insult me."

"Sneaky." Lauren was continually impressed by the way that Dev worked around the limitations placed on her by her gender and sexual orientation.

Dev chuckled. "Thank David. That’s why he gets the big bucks and bigger headaches." She gestured at Lauren’s hands. "You gonna open that, or would you rather I leave first?" Dev didn’t want to leave at all. But she couldn’t take another second of Lauren picking at that envelope. She was nearly ready to reach over and rip it open herself. But, she conceded inwardly, that would be just a tad difficult to explain.

"No!" Okay, that was way too quick. Lauren cleared her throat awkwardly. "I um… you don’t have to leave. I mean, you don’t have a meeting or anything, right?" she asked hopefully.

"Not a single one, and it’s only 5:30." Dev crossed herself. "It’s a miracle."

Lauren moved to get up, clutching the envelope. "Let me just put this away. I’m sure it’s nothing…"

"Aw, c’mon, Lauren." Dev smiled charmingly and poked at the slightly dingy, golden paper. "I’m dying to see what happens next to the intrepid, female explorer, Adrienne Nash. Or do I have to call you Ms. Gallager when I talk about your series?"

Lauren looked at Dev blankly, thinking she must have heard her wrong. She couldn’t mean… "You… you read these?" The younger woman waved the envelope.

"Oh, yeah! Devour is more like it. I’ve read all of them. Been waiting like an idiot for the new one."

Lauren fell back onto the sofa limply. "You knew and you still hired me?" Duh! Of course she knew. She’s the President of the United Friggin’ States of America! She probably knows more about me than I do.

Dev scoffed at the question. "Your biographies are the best I’ve ever read. And your credentials as a biographer and historian are impeccable." Dev picked up her mug again and took a healthy swallow. "I never have understood the notion that writers couldn’t do both fiction and non-fiction, and still be respected in each field. Plus... well… um..."

"Plus, I use a pen name for my fiction so I can still ‘pass’ as respectable because nobody knows?" Lauren’s voice was resigned, but tinged with sarcasm.

Dev stiffened. "I control a lot of things. But I don’t set the standards of acceptability for the publishing industry."

Lauren’s gaze dropped to her shoes. Quit being such a bitch about it. It’s not her fault you can’t own up to most of the writing you do. "Of course you don’t. I’m sorry." A thought occurred to her, and she smiled tentatively, hoping to make up for her misdirected anger. She handed the envelope to Dev. "Here, enjoy it. A gift from me to you; the first copy of Lauren Gallager’s newest tale."

Devlyn snatched the book like a little kid who had just been handed her first present on Christmas morning. She practically squealed with delight. "Ooo, neat!"

Lauren burst out laughing as Dev tore open the envelope with abandon. The tall woman looked up as she slipped the book out. "What?" she complained somewhat bashfully. "You gave it to me. Don’t laugh at me now."

Lauren blinked as Devlyn flipped the book over in her hands, examining it from every angle and running her fingers over its shiny cover. Then she looked up at her with eyes so filled with innocent pleasure that they immediately brought to mind Ashley’s, despite the difference in color.

A slow blush worked its way across Dev’s cheeks. "Don’t suppose you’d autograph it for me?"

Mutely, Lauren bobbed her head. Wow. I can’t believe this. "I’d be happy to. Let me get a pen." Before she could move, Dev was seated next to her, eagerly handing her the book and a pen. "Umm... wow, that was fast. Okay, any particular way you want this signed?"

"No." Dev shook her head as she tapped her knees excitedly. "Just think of me as your biggest, geekiest fan."

Lauren chuckled as she took the book back, opening it carefully. She’d lay money on the fact that Devlyn Marlowe didn’t break the bindings on books. The tip of her tongue appeared for just a second as she thought of what to write. Then she quickly inscribed the book and handed it back. "You’re all set."

Dev gingerly opened the novel, peeking at the inside cover. "To Wonder Woman: Please enjoy it, my geeky friend. Lauren Gallager." Dev shook her head. "Cute," she snorted. "Veeery cute." The President was loving this and it showed in the sparkle of her eyes and the bright smile that creased her cheeks. "Well, now I have something to read on the plane."

"Holy shit!"

Dev jumped, fumbling with the book as it threatened to fly out of her hands. "What? What is it?" She searched Lauren’s face.

"We’ll be taking the Bat Plane, won’t we?"

Dev blew out a relieved breath, her eyebrow twitching in amused annoyance. "I’m thirty-eight years old. One more unexpected exclamation like that, and I won’t see thirty-nine." She clutched her chest for effect, and Lauren rolled her eyes. "And, yes, we’ll be aboard Air Force One, if that’s what you mean. And Lauren?"

A pale head tilted.

A reckless grin made Dev feel like a kid again. "It’s so much better than the Bat Plane."


Friday, March 5th


"Come on now, give me a hug." Dev was on her knees with the children.

The looks of disappointment on their faces tore at Lauren in a way she never thought possible. Sweet Jesus, is it always like this? I’d never be able to go anywhere!

"You gonna be gone long?" Chris asked, his face buried in Dev’s long, glossy hair.

"I’ll only be gone as long as I have to, pal. You know that. I’ll be back as soon as I can."

"Miss you." Aaron gave her a kiss on the cheek as Dev wrapped her other arm around him.

"I’ll miss all you guys. And I promise, when I come home, we’ll do pizza and Disney movies all day on my first Sunday back, okay?"

"Can Lauren and Grem watch movies and eat pizza too?" Chris asked, pushing his glasses up his nose, looking at Lauren with a bashful grin.

Dev glanced up at the writer, giving her a tiny smile. So, you’ve bewitched my children too, huh? "If she wants to." Her eyes flicked to Lauren’s and held the same look of adoration that Christopher was currently sporting. " But you’ll have to ask her yourself."

Before Chris could open his mouth, Lauren answered. She held Dev’s penetrating gaze as she spoke. "I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I enjoy spending time with you guys," she heard herself say. Huh. I really do. Judd would keel over from a heart attack if he heard me say that. She glanced over to Chris and wagged her finger in warning. "But no pizza for Grem. It makes him burp."

Dev winced at the mention of the dog’s name. "Speaking of Gremlin." The hateful little flea bag. "Lauren’s gonna need someone to look after him while we’re gone, and we agreed you guys can do it if you want. What do you think?"

The boys cheered, but Ashley, who was standing next to Emma, only shrugged noncommittally. Dev rose and moved past the tow-headed boys to her daughter. "Now c’mon, Moppet." Her dark head tilted in entreaty. "You’re the oldest, you have to agree too."

"‘Kay." Ashley tried to smile, but it was weak and watery at best.

Dev leaned in and touched noses with her daughter. "I have a surprise for you."

Despite herself, Ashley’s eyes suddenly glittered with youthful excitement. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Dev gave a whistle and the door opened. Gremlin came charging into the room, followed by a certain former Ohio State Trooper who had finally been coaxed into joining the Secret Service.

Ashley’s eyes grew wide as saucers when she saw her friend. "Amy!" She bolted past Dev, her bothers and Lauren to grab the woman around the waist, squeezing as tightly as she could.

Dev said a prayer of thanks that she was finally able to do something to make Ashley smile. She knew it had been a difficult winter for the girl.

Devlyn asked Emma, "You’re sure you’re okay with dog sitting?"

"Tch. Why not? I’ve been taking care of you for years. The dog might actually listen to me." The older woman gave a playful poke to Presidential ribs.

"I really appreciate it too, Emma," Lauren offered, delighted by the motherly interplay between Emma and Devlyn. "I think he’d be miserable in a kennel after all the attention he’s used to getting from the kids. They love him."

The nanny smiled knowingly. "It’s springtime." She waved her hand out in front of her. "It’s in the air."

Dev regarded the ugly black and white dog that looked like his face had been smashed flat by a cast-iron skillet. She just knew he was a Republican. "Hey, you little beastie."

Grem’s ears perked up, and his tail began wagging furiously. Then he saw who called him and he grumbled, baring crooked teeth and mottled gums.

Dev reached into her pocket and pulled out a small zip-locked baggie. "I’ve got something for you," she taunted wickedly. Dropping to the ground, she sat back on her heels and pulled a treat from the clear plastic, pretending to eat. She moaned and hummed ‘boy, eating this is one hell of an orgasmic experience’ sounds the entire time.

Lauren unconsciously licked her lips.

Gremlin took a nervous step forward, his beady eyes trained on Dev’s hand.

Devlyn waved the dog snack in front of his face, watching as his little nostrils flared with interest.

"Now you’re bribing my dog?" Lauren’s hands moved to her hips. "Good grief, have you no shame?"

"Nope. None." Dev shrugged lightly. "I figured if you could be bought for a double-stuffed Oreo, Gremlin would be ripe for the taking with a few Snausages." You’d better not make me look stupid in front of your mommy by biting me, Gremlin! I hear NASA is looking for a few test animals for their next mission to Mars. Devlyn was careful to hold the treat at the very tips of her fingers as the dog sniffed it warily. "Oh, yeah. You know you want it." Dev’s eyes narrowed with a predatory glint. "C’mon… take it."

Lauren watched in fascination as the President of the Unites States and her Pug faced off in a battle of wills. She was taking even odds. I can’t believe I’m seeing this.

But Grem broke first, snatching the fragrant treat from extended fingers before he retreated behind Emma’s legs. Dev felt a big, satisfied smile edge its way onto her face. "Ahhh, progress. I wish Congress were that easy." The tall woman put her palms on her knees and pushed to her feet so she could hand the bag to Emma. "Keep those handy in case he turns on you."

Emma nodded. "Be careful, Devlyn Marlowe. These babies need you." She gave the President a long hug.

"I will, Emma. And we’ll be home soon." Dev disentangled herself and opened her arms to her children once more. "Last chance. You know just one is never enough for me." She sighed. "I have to go before Liza has a conniption and gets the cattle prod after me."

All the kids ran over and hugged their mother in turn. Ash tugged her down to her level. "Thank you, Mommy. Amy is the best present ever."

"I’m glad, Moppet. Take good care of her. She just finished her Secret Service training, and I think she could use a little TLC."

The girl giggled. "I will. I promise." Then, without thought, she darted over to Lauren and threw her arms around her.

Lauren started in surprise but managed to gently, albeit it a little awkwardly, lower her hands and softly rub Ashley’s back. She wasn’t sure what to say and felt a flood of relief course through her when Ashley spoke first.

"I promise we’ll take good care of Grem, too."

Lauren relaxed and returned the girl’s hug with more vigor. "I know you will, Ash. Have fun while we’re gone."

* * *

Lauren tried not to let the excitement show in her face as the limousine pulled up to the plane. It’s just a plane. It’s just a plane. You’ve been on a plane before. Her eyes were riveted on the enormous steel monster. Oh, man, for two Hershey bars and a window seat on that bad boy, I’d have Dev’s baby. Her face turned bright red as the direction of her thoughts registered.

"I’ve arranged for you to have your own office onboard," Dev commented casually, oblivious to the sometimes profound, but always unique, mental machinations of her biographer. She leaned closer to Lauren, wondering exactly when it was that they’d gone from sitting across from each other to sitting side by side. Not that she was complaining. "It’s the office normally reserved for the First Lady. I um… I hope you like it… and the plane, too. It’s really nice and um... fast," she babbled. Great, now I sound like a sixteen-year-old trying to impress a pretty girl with a ride in my Daddy’s Corvette.

"Oh, well, I’ll just have to make do. I don’t know how I’ll manage," Lauren drawled, fanning herself in mock-distress and doing her best southern belle imitation.

Dev laughed. "Well, it’s only fitting that you have the First Lady’s office on Air Force One since you’ve been sleeping in her room in the White House." Dev pulled Lauren’s new novel from the bag at her feet and eagerly set it on her lap. "I don’t intend to work any more than I have to on this flight. I’m going to read."

Lauren’s ego practically purred under Dev’s gentle stroking. She never got to enjoy a real live fan’s reaction to her novels. "Any suggestions for the next Adrienne Nash book? Since you’ve read them all?"

Dev nodded emphatically. "Oh, absolutely. She needs a girlfriend."

Lauren crossed her arms, drawing back from Dev. "Oh, she does, does she?" Could be interesting. A tall, beautiful one with piercing blue eyes perhaps? That would sure throw a few readers for a loop.

"Yup!" Dev grinned. "She’d be much more at peace with herself. More content. And completely satisfied."

Pale brows lifted. "That’s one hell of a girlfriend."

"Uh huh."

Lauren glanced sideways at the President. "And what makes you think Adrienne Nash is interested in women?"

Before Dev could answer, the car stopped and her door was opened from the outside. She smiled and climbed out, turning to give the waiting Press a quick wave before extending her hand to Lauren. With a slight tug, she helped the writer out of the car. "What makes you think she’s not?" Dev asked, pressing her hand lightly against the small of Lauren’s back, giving her a nudge in the right direction.

"Good point."

The women were pelted with a flurry of questions from the waiting Press, their shouts barely heard above the general hum of car and plane engines and other airport activity. Dev completely ignored the reporters, but noticed that Lauren’s back went ramrod straight and that her stride slowed after a particularly personal and inappropriate question was thrown her way. The President leaned down a little and told Lauren, "Just keep walking. Ignore it."

The blonde woman lifted her jaw, and Dev felt a flash of worry. She could tell that Lauren was considering doing or saying something, and Dev shivered when she imagined what it could be. "Ahh... Lauren, I’m sure whatever you’re thinking about doing would be extremely satisfying."

Lauren nodded tersely, kicking a pebble across the concrete as she picked up the pace. "So very satisfying."

"But please don’t. It will only add fuel to the fire."

Dev paused, allowing Lauren to start the climb up the stairs ahead of her. She was very well aware of the cameras going off all around them as they boarded. At the top Lauren paused to wait for Dev, but quickly stepped inside when Dev motioned her back. "Go inside so they’ll leave you alone." The President winked, then turned at the top of the steps to give a final wave before stepping onboard herself.

David met them at the door, as did Liza, who slipped a file into Dev’s hand. "We have a call waiting for you, Madam President."

Dev’s head dropped forward and she groaned. "Of course you do. I’ll take it in my office. David, will you show Lauren to her office and make sure that her computer and other things were deliv-"

David nodded and gave Dev a push toward her office. "Everything is ready, and I’ll be happy to show her where she can set up."

Dev gave Lauren an aggrieved look, then peeled off, following Liza down the hall. Before she disappeared into her office, she turned around and tapped Lauren’s novel, yelling, "I’m telling you-"

"I’m thinking about it," Lauren shot back with a grin.

"Thinking about what?" David gingerly took the writer by the elbow and pointed to the opposite end of the hallway.

"Lots of things," the blonde admitted quietly.

David opened the door to the office and gestured for Lauren to enter. "Wow." She took a moment to take it all in. "This is incredible. I can’t believe I’m on an airplane."

"Well, it’s not called ‘The Flying Oval Office’ for nothing. It really is amazing. Did you know that about 238 miles of wire wind through the plane? That is more than twice the wiring found in a typical 747. The wire protects the plane from electromagnetic pulses generated by a thermonuclear blast. Even in a nuclear war, we’ll still be able to receive electronic signals," he enthused.

The blood drained from Lauren’s face.

"Oh! Sorry. Not that I suspect a thermonuclear war," David offered quickly.

"Thanks for clearing that up."

He unbuttoned his jacket and ran a hand through his close-cropped red hair. Taking a deep breath he asked, "Can I come in for a moment? I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes."

Lauren eyed him seriously, chewing her lip as she wondered if she’d done something wrong. She and David had been getting along just fine these past few months. Lauren moved behind her desk and dropped into a soft leather swivel chair. It forced David to talk to her across the desk and put her in an immediate position of power. It was a trick she’d subconsciously picked up from Dev. "Sure. Is something wrong?"

"Truth is," David closed the door and took a seat on the couch, skipping over the chair in front of the desk, "I’m not sure."

"What do you mean? Is there a problem with the book?" Lauren had agreed to let David read the rough notes that would form the beginning of the prologue to Dev’s biography. It was mostly background and family information and wouldn’t change, no matter what happened in the next four years. She’d never shared any part of her preliminary work before, but, as Dev’s best friend and the President’s Chief of Staff, she valued David’s unique insight.

"No! Everything looks great so far. Dev is going to love it. She’ll get a big chuckle out of the fact that one of her ancestors was a convicted horse thief. Must be where her natural talent for politics comes from."

"Then what?"

"It’s Dev." He looked her directly in the eye. "She’s, umm, really opened up to you, you know?"

Lauren nodded reluctantly, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable with where this was going. "That’s true. For a biography to be good, a subject has to open up to the writer."

"I’m not talking about the book, Lauren. I’m talking about on a personal level. She’s really taking a chance here. In fact, I haven’t seen her warm up to another person so quickly since..." his words trailed off, and Lauren caught the significance.

"Samantha?" Her voice conveyed her astonishment.

David nodded. "I can see you understand." He stood and buttoned his jacket. "I trust you not to hurt her. You’re the first person in a long time who has seemed to make her happy." He paused. "Just don’t lead her on. Please." The man turned and quietly left the office.

Dumbfounded, Lauren blinked several times in rapid succession. Lead her on? Coming to her senses, she jumped up from her desk. "David, wait!"

The Chief of Staff stopped and turned around in the hall. "Yeah?"

"You believe the rumors, don’t you?" Lauren lowered her voice, looking around a little nervously. "The ones about Devlyn and me."

"I’m not sure what to believe at this point." He placed his hand on the plane wall as he felt the big machine begin to taxi down the runway. "I’m just asking you to be careful."

"Then, just like Devlyn, you’re going to have to trust me." She could see the hesitancy in his eyes. "I’ll admit it probably wasn’t the smartest professional move I’ve ever made. But somewhere in the last two months, we became real friends, David. Please know that I wouldn’t do anything I thought would hurt her. I’m not leading anyone on."

Her voice was pleading, and he had no choice but to believe her. He hated being surrounded by honest people. This was Washington politics for God’s sake.

"I do trust you." He smiled softly. "And I’m glad she has you for a friend. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a call to make myself."

* * *

Lauren’s notebook was in her lap as she sat hunched over on the long sofa in her office aboard the ‘Flying Oval Office’, scrawling away. She glanced up at the steward, who placed the milk on the table in front of her. After so many weeks with Dev, the writer had grown rather fond of the beverage as well, but she discovered it had to be ice cold for her to truly enjoy it. Do I need to wonder where this came from? "Thank you."

"My pleasure, Ms. Strayer. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, I’m fine, thanks." She pushed her glasses up, rolling her neck to work out its tightness before taking the glass. She was amazed that it was, indeed, ice cold. Are they all mind readers?

Lauren glanced at her watch. They’d been in the air almost two hours, and she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Devlyn since they parted in the hallway. Quit your whining. You’re a big girl, and you know she’s busy. With a soundless sigh, she went back to her notebook and her milk.

Dev finally showed up outside her door almost an hour later. The President gave a light rap and heard Lauren’s answering ‘Come in’.

Blue eyes rolled at Lauren as Dev marched into the office, arms outstretched in front of her like Frankenstein’s monster. She walked stiff-legged across the room to the couch, where she collapsed face down. "I’m such a bad mother," she mumbled into the cushion.

"What?!" Lauren snorted. "No way."

Dev rolled over, clutching a small throw pillow to her chest. "I just realized that I’m not going to be home for Christopher’s birthday next week." She folded her arms around the pillow and tucked it under her chin, looking down the couch at Lauren. "Maybe I can airmail him a camel."

The writer turned her body, lifting one arm to rest it on the back of the couch. "Nah, that’s overkill. Besides, you get him a camel, and next he’ll want an elephant, and before you know it: poof! You’ve got rhinos eating the bushes in the Rose Garden, and the south lawn is a petting zoo." C’mon, Dev, smile.

Dev’s laughter rang out through the plane so loudly that Lauren wondered if the Press rats, who were housed near the rear of the plane and went along on every Air Force One flight, could hear her. Then she got hit in the head with the pillow Dev had been using.

"Hey, be nice!" Lauren scolded as she confiscated Dev’s pillow and pressed her face into the soft cloth.

"I’m always nice." Dev grinned, but the happy expression faded quickly. "I’ll figure out some way to make it up to Christopher." She stopped speaking for a moment, and a contemplative look crossed her face. Dev’s eyes went serious. "This is the kind of thing he’s never going to forget though, isn’t it?"

Lauren felt a pang deep in her chest. It was only a birthday, right? He would eventually understand that Dev had pressing commitments that were of global importance… things that couldn’t wait for a little boy’s party. Lauren smiled sadly at the President. "No, it’s not something he’ll ever forget."

Dev nodded slowly and pushed up off the couch, moving toward the door. She exhaled tiredly. "That’s pretty much what I figured."


Tuesday, March 9th


They had been at the Embassy for three days and this was the first time that Lauren had had more than a moment to enjoy her room’s balcony. She stared out at the city that pulsed with life. It was congested and colorful. Foreigners stood out like sore thumbs, their business suits or touristy shorts and T-shirts clashing with the native’s traditional white robes. Car horns mixed with the angry shouts of pedestrians and the occasionally whinny from a donkey or horse. It was a curious mix of old and new world technology, culture, and attitudes that Lauren found more interesting than appealing.

The writer snapped off a few photographs, then headed back inside, stepping out of the heavy perfume of highly seasoned, roasting meats, local pastries, and car exhaust.

She was amazed when Dev ordered everyone to take their third day ‘in country’ to rest and relax. ‘Everyone’, Lauren found out, was a relative term. David was still working like a madman, as were several aides and advisors on foreign policy. But most of the other staff, including Dev herself, used the day to relax.

The President slept away the entire day, and Lauren suspected that the dark-haired woman was still fighting a nasty case of jet lag. While she slumbered, David had easily taken charge, giving orders that Dev not be disturbed for anything. He made it perfectly clear that she needed to be well rested for the upcoming meetings.

Lauren had managed to take a nap herself, but felt restless and was up long before Dev. She took the time to do some exploring and shot two rolls of film, but was hesitant to venture too far from the executive quarters. There were just too many strange faces milling about, constantly staring at her and whispering as she, or anyone connected to Devlyn, passed. No. Lauren preferred to stick close to her friends, especially the beautiful one who ran the most powerful nation on earth.

The first meeting was set for tomorrow morning at 9:00 A.M. Tonight, however, Dev was hosting a reception for the dignitaries who would be attending the meetings. The Embassy was simply crawling with workers, ranging from kitchen and cleaning staff to security personnel and military. Lauren was soaking up the dry heat, watching the ordered chaos from the balcony of her room for a few moments, before a knock at the door sent her back inside.

She settled her camera on a table and opened the door to be greeted by Dev’s thousandwatt smile. Devlyn was holding a garment bag and looking incredibly pleased with herself. "You know," Lauren started, her hands coming to rest on her hips, "I’ve known you long enough now to know that that smile is trouble." But even as she teased, her eyes worriedly searched Dev’s face, relieved that the lines of fatigue and tension that she’d seen yesterday appeared to be gone.

"Oh, so that’s how it is, huh? I bring you a present, and you accuse me of causing trouble." Dev shrugged nonchalantly and threw her nose in the air. "Fine. I’ll just take this reeeeally beautiful, incredibly expensive evening gown and find some other short, cute blonde to give it to." She sniffed in mock indignation and turned around, barely clearing Lauren’s line of sight before an enormous grin sprang to her lips.

Lauren’s arm shot out, grabbing the back of Dev’s shirt. "Waaaait just a minute, Madam Commander and Chief!" She tugged the woman into her room and eagerly closed the door. "Number one, I’m not short…"

"You’re shorter than I am."

"Everyone without male plumbing is shorter than you are, Stretch," Lauren defended.

Dev laughed. "True."

"And number two…" Lauren held up two fingers.

Dev draped the garment bag over her arm. Her eyes twinkled. "You’re not gonna try and deny that you’re cute, are you?"

"Do I look stupid?"

Dev opened her mouth, and Lauren clamped her hand over it. "There’s really no need to answer that, Devlyn."

The President’s eyes screamed, ‘Who, me?’ But she prudently remained silent.

Lauren smirked and pulled away her hand. She eyed the bag. "So are you gonna show me? Or do I have to beg?"

Dev didn’t say a word. Her evil laugh alone was more than enough to make Lauren blush to the roots of her hair. I love it when she does that, Dev thought affectionately. "All right, Mighty Mouse… ouch!" Dev grasped her arm and scowled. "I bruise easily, you know!"

"Then you shouldn’t call people names," came the reasonable response.

"You know, I’m pretty sure it’s a federal crime to hit me."

Lauren lifted a brow as she liberated the garment bag from Dev’s arms, noticing it was a tad heavy for a garment bag. "Call a cop." Her gaze flicked around the room, looking for a place to hang it, but before she could move, Dev took it back and held it up for Lauren’s easy inspection.

The blonde carefully unzipped the leather bag. She gasped when the dress came into view. Dev hadn’t lied. Wow. "Oh, my." She fingered the black, sequined material reverently. "It’s…" She swallowed emotionally. Nobody had ever given her anything so lovely. "It’s beautiful. I can’t um… I can’t believe it’s for me." Suddenly bashful eyes tilted upward, and she gazed at Dev from beneath pale lashes. "Thanks," she said softly.

Dev sighed happily. God, Marlowe, she’s got you hook, line, and sinker. I’m totally and irreversibly twitter-pated. "It’s … I mean, it’s for the reception tonight," she explained needlessly, her tongue failing to comply quickly enough with her brain’s command to start talking and stop looking like a moron.

Lauren nodded and mercifully dropped her gaze from Dev and refocused on the dress.

Once out of the beam of those intense gray eyes, Dev found she could think much more clearly. "I personally thought the most beautiful woman in the room should have the most beautiful dress."

Lauren blushed again, unsure how she should take these compliments. Dev was as solicitous as a lover, but surely she didn’t feel that way about her. Other than a little harmless flirting, Dev had never given Lauren any indication that she felt something other than friendship for her. Still, she was flattered by the attention, and the way Dev was looking at her caused her belly to flutter nervously and her palms to go moist.

The biographer dismissed the most obvious explanation of what she was feeling, chalking up the sweet-talking to Dev’s being well rested, in a really good mood, and charming as hell. "You know, you’re gonna spoil me if you keep this up. I mean, gee, great big white house, a private plane, permanent dog sitters." She grinned, scrunching up her nose and wrinkling the corners of her eyes. "I think I’m ruined for anyone else."

Dev nearly bit her lip through. From your lips to God’s ears, Lauren.

"If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were someone awfully important."

"Nah, I’m just a geek stalker." She laughed. "Okay, I’ve got a meeting and Liza is gonna be here to drag me downstairs by my ear any moment. She has learned too much from Jane, I tell you, but I’ll be back to get you at about six and we’ll go down for the reception. I’d invite you to join me for the meeting, but it wouldn’t go over well."

"I thought the first meeting was tomorrow?"

"The first official meeting is tomorrow. This afternoon’s is with the Crown Prince. It’s nothing important. Photo op and sound bites for the press, that sort of thing." Dev grimaced, wondering how much longer she could hold up her arm before discreetly lowering without looking like a wuss in front of Lauren. "It’ll be boring as hell. And you’ve already been there and done that a million times, so please continue to enjoy your day off. If I didn’t have to go I wouldn’t. Just relax and enjoy. You can watch the dog and pony show on closed circuit if you like."

"I’ll do that." She closed her eyes for a moment, scratching just above her eyebrow. "Umm, please don’t tell me I need my password to activate anything here. It’s several thousand miles away at the moment."

"No, everything here is simple voice activation."

"Finally, something simple." Lauren rolled her eyes. She studied Dev’s face, her eyes widening with realization. "Jesus, put that down." Without a warning to Dev, Lauren pulled the bag from her hand. She grunted at its weight and interestedly peered into the bag. There were shoes in the bottom and several jewelry boxes. "My goodness, Devlyn! This weighs a ton!"

"Nah. I barely noticed it," Dev lied. "I just wanted to make sure you had a decent selection of accessories to go with your surprise." Dev suppressed a grin. "There are a few baubles in there I hope you’ll like." Her fingers idly played with the bag’s zipper. "But I burrowed them. So no losing them, okay?"

Lauren nodded, gulping a little. "This wasn’t necessary, Devlyn. I could have..."

"Don’t be silly," Dev admonished gently. "I wanted to." Dev gestured toward the bag, already picturing how lovely Lauren was going to look. "I’ll be back in a couple of hours to escort you. Unless you’ve got someone else in mind," she commented with forced casualness. Half the Press Corps and a good portion of her own staff were in love with the beauty.

Lauren shook her head. "I’m all yours, Madam President."

Now that’s more like it. Dev’s heart began to swell. She knew that those simple words shouldn’t mean so much, that they didn’t mean what she wanted them to. But still they made her happy, she found herself lacking the will power or inclination to fight the feeling. "See you soon then."

When Dev left, Lauren unzipped the bag and pulled out several pairs of shoes. She held them up to the dress and, with a little nod, selected a medium black heel with a thin strap around the ankle. Then she set them aside and pulled out several velvet jewelry boxes that had Cartier imprinted on them in gold letters.

Grey eyes widened slightly when she realized that when Dev said she had ‘borrowed’ them, that meant the jewelry was on loan from one of the finest jewelers in the world. Lauren shook her head in simple disbelief. "Good God, Devlyn. Don’t ever let it be said that you don’t know how to make a woman feel special." She tugged over the dress and let out a nervous breath. "I only hope I can do all this justice."

* * *

Lauren flopped down on the bed and ordered the TV on, requesting a translation in English so that she could watch the photo op. Dev stood proud and tall, looking absolutely incredible. The power of her presence alone drew every eye to her and captured the viewer’s attention completely.

Almost resentfully, she dragged her gaze from Dev to inspect the shorter man standing alongside her, who was undoubtedly Crown Prince Karim Sami Hassan. He was nice enough looking, she considered thoughtfully, estimating his age somewhere between twenty-five and thirty. He had a generous mouth and a well-trimmed, dark beard that disappeared into a thick mass of wavy, black hair. The Prince’s olive coloring made him appear more Mediterranean than Middle Eastern, and his dusky skin was set off nicely by his loose, golden-colored robes, which were streaked with red. He wore the traditional headgear of his people.

The United Arab Alliance had chosen him for this meeting because most of his formal education had taken place at Cambridge. Once, he had even visited Devlyn’s own college alma mater, Harvard. They believed his youth and open mind would serve him well in dealing with such an infidel. He wouldn’t be as quickly offended as the elder members of the Alliance.

They spoke quietly with one another and then shook hands, dragging out the normally quick ritual for the flashing cameras.

After a few moments, the Prince leaned over and whispered something to Dev. When she pulled back, she was still smiling, but something had changed.

Lauren sat up on the bed and pulled a pillow into her lap, missing Grem at that very moment. She studied the image, looking into eyes that were normally rich and vibrant, but now appeared as cold and stony as a grave. "Oh, boy, I do believe that Madam President is pissed."

* * *

The meeting ended, and the Press Corps shuffled out of the room. David began making his way over to Dev, but she waved him off, needing a few moments with the Prince. She did her best to maintain her calm demeanor, but she could already feel the sneer forming on her lips.

"Your Highness." She stopped and cleared her throat. "I appreciate the fact that you saw Ms. Strayer today on television. And I also appreciate the fact that you find her an attractive, desirable woman." Dev’s nostrils flared. "But let me make something perfectly clear to you. She is not approachable. And she is most certainly not interested in remaining behind in your lovely country upon my departure." Dev’s heart clenched at the very thought.

The man’s eyes narrowed, and he ran the back of his hand over his dark, closely cropped beard. "I was under the impression that there was no romantic involvement between you and Ms. Strayer," he said in perfect, though slightly accented, English. "My people were assured by your people that your press was simply looking for a sensational story, and that Ms. Strayer was free to be, shall we say, pursued."

When I find out who said that, he’s walking back to the United States! So what if it’s true! Dev’s teeth actually ground together when he looked at her with eyes daring her to say differently, which she immediately did. "You were misinformed," Dev answered flatly. "I’m sure that you understand I must deny our involvement to the press for appearances’ sake. But I assure you, Ms. Strayer is very much taken. She will be accompanying me to the reception tonight."

The Prince looked Dev directly in the eye. "She is your lover then?"

"Absolutely," she practically snarled, startled by the proprietary ring to her voice.

"But she is not your wife," he clarified smugly. He tilted his head to the side, waiting for Dev’s response. With a quick jerk of his chin, he kept his own approaching entourage at bay.

Dev’s jaw clenched. Asswipe isn’t getting the picture. "That changes nothing." Except for the fact that if she were my wife, and you were saying these things, I’d wring your scrawny neck on the spot. "The fact remains that Ms. Strayer is unavailable to you, Your Highness." She straightened to her full height and looked down at the Prince with barely contained rage. How dare he? "I trust, Your Highness, that this is a closed issue?"

"This discussion is over," he agreed amiably, flashing Dev a smile that was anything but reassuring. "Madam President."

Dev could see that the Prince was used to getting his way in every matter. Too bad that’s not going to happen with this, junior. Dev stiffened, her body unconsciously responding to the challenge that was flashing in his eyes. To him, Lauren was still a prize to be won, and she’d just made things worse by tossing the gauntlet at his feet. God, Lauren, I hope you trust me this much. Because he’s gonna be watching us like a hawk tonight.

* * *

Dev knocked on Lauren’s door. She nervously ran her hands over her long, white jacket, tugging on its hem and smoothing it against her wide-legged silk trousers. It wasn’t what she normally would have worn for such an occasion, but it was still formal attire and she wasn’t about to put on a stitch of clothing that would detract from Lauren tonight.

Despite Dev’s loosely worn hair, elegant jewelry and modest makeup, her outfit would help Prince Hassan see her as Lauren’s escort and his peer, not just a woman. In this male dominated region of the world, Dev’s trousers were more than a fashion statement. Besides, I’m the President of the United States, I’ll wear whatever I damn well please.

Devlyn’s mind was a whirl with tomorrow’s likely headlines. She sighed. There was no choice now. If the Prince found out that she’d outright lied to him about her relationship with Lauren, the entire trip could be in jeopardy. She had put Lauren’s feelings ahead of a summit that had actually been in the works for more than ten years. But she wouldn’t see Lauren harassed as though she were an object to be owned.

The door suddenly swung open, and Dev’s breath was simply stolen from her body. "Stunning," she whispered reverently as wide blue eyes eagerly absorbed every detail of Lauren’s appearance.

Her pale hair had been swept up into a low knot that rested snuggly on her neck. Several fair tendrils had already worked their way free and served to frame Lauren’s youthful face in a quietly graceful way. The black sequin dress was strapless, showing off a slender, succulent neck and slightly muscular shoulders that were covered with creamy, white skin and dotted with faint freckles. The snug cloth clung to every curve of the writer’s body, outlining firm breasts, a trim waist and the womanly flair of her hips. Dev found herself wishing it were shorter, say mid thigh, but this was an evening event, so the floor length gown was already pushing the limits of propriety by showing so much of those incredible shoulders.

Dev sucked in a breath, very conscious of the low burn that had ignited deep in her belly.

"Can I take your staring at me as though I had sprouted a tail as a good sign?" Lauren asked a little insecurely. She felt her heat rise to her cheeks. Dev’s eyes raked over her body in a way that was making her pulse flutter happily. Unfortunately, it was also making her even more nervous than she already was. Which was pretty damned nervous.

"Wow," Dev mumbled. "You look…" She shook her head, unable to form the words. Fabulous, her mind screamed. She looks fabulous! Uh oh. Too fabulous. Prince What’s-his-name is gonna drop dead at first sight.

Lauren tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear, and her earrings glittered in the light. Her hand dropped to her throat. "Thank you. And for these especially. I feel like some sort of princess." Her fingers shifted and grazed the sparkling diamonds wreathing her neck, then moved down to the matching bracelet that hung loosely around her wrist. She smiled warmly. "I’m a little concerned about turning into a pumpkin at midnight." Lauren spoke without paying much attention to her words. Her gaze was firmly fixed on Devlyn, and the mere sight of the President tonight threatened to seize up her brain entirely.

"You um…" Lauren laughed helplessly, finding herself tongue-tied and with the inexplicable urge to run her hands up and down Dev’s body. And kiss the hollow of her throat? Okay, that’s new.

"Clean up pretty good?" No, you cannot lean in and nuzzle that soft- looking cheek.

"Mmm…" Lauren agreed. "That’s an understatement, Devlyn."

"Shall we?" Dev offered the smaller woman her elbow.

"Oh, yeah."

"Wait a second." Dev frowned a little and pointed back toward the room. "Don’t you need your glasses?"

"Will I have to read or write?"

"Well, we were all going to sit around and retake our SATs for fun." Dev slapped her forehead. "But so much for that. Now what will we do after drinks?" I have a few suggestions. One of them includes whipped cream and…STOP IT!

Lauren laughed. "We’d better get going, President Marlowe." Lauren spied Dev’s Secret Service men lurking down the hall. "I’m sure Liza is stroking out someplace, waiting for you." Lauren tucked her arm around Dev’s as they made their way down the hall.

"Umm… Lauren?" Time to face the music, Marlowe.


"Do you trust me?"

* * *

"You did what?!" Lauren stopped dead in her tracks just as the couple entered the reception hall. She stared at Dev in disbelief.

The room went dead silent, and every set of eyes turned to the two women.

"Don’t make me say it again," Dev pleaded under her breath as she grinned at the crowd and gave a quick wave. "I know by the way your jaw just hit the carpet that you heard me the first time."

"Devlyn!" Lauren huffed through her plastered on smile. She was temporarily blinded by a dozen quick flashes from the press’ cameras. "The gossip just started to die down back home." She spoke without moving her lips. "If we put on some show tonight, so we can convince Prince Hassan, it’s just going to start all over again."

David rushed to Dev’s side, pushing down his irritation. Dev knew the drill. Why was she being difficult? She’d been in an unusually foul mood ever since the photo op that afternoon. "Good evening, Madam President," was what he said.

Devlyn, however, heard exactly what David meant, which was, ‘Why didn’t you wait for your introduction, bozo?!’ "Sorry, David. I was distracted. Besides, I was already introduced to everyone this afternoon. This is just a little reception. Relax." She glanced sideways at her Chief of Staff and elbowed him in the ribs affectionately. "Nice tux. Your tie is crooked, by the way."

"Thanks." He fussed with the tie until it was straight. "And you know we have to follow protocol, Madam President."

Prince Hassan made a bee line for the women, and Dev immediately wrapped her arm around Lauren’s waist, tugging her closer and surprising the hell out of both David and Lauren. A flurry of camera flashes lit up the room, and the press hounds began to murmur among themselves. "Let’s just skip it and say we didn’t, David. I’ve got something else I need to take care of right now anyway. If you’ll excuse us?"

David turned round eyes on Lauren who could only shrug helplessly. "Fine," he mumbled. "I’ll be back in a few moments. I’ll handle it."

Dev nodded absently, her eyes tracking the Prince and the advisors that flanked him like bookends.

Prince Hassan stopped right in front of Devlyn and Lauren. He motioned his men back a few feet. "Madam President, it’s a pleasure to see you again." But somehow Dev just couldn’t believe him. It might have been the fact that he was looking at Lauren the entire time he spoke. "I don’t believe I’ve been introduced to your lovely biographer."

Dev remained stubbornly silent until Lauren nudged her. "Your Highness, Prince Hassan, may I present Ms. Lauren Strayer?"

"It’s a true pleasure." Prince Hassan bowed deeply at the waist and grasped Lauren’s hands. He kissed her knuckles, lingering for several seconds too long.

"Hello," Lauren replied cordially, wanting her hands back.

Dev fought not to roll her eyes. If I strangled him, I wonder if it would start a war? Dev knew she wasn’t acting very Presidential. But she couldn’t seem to help herself.

"What a lovely necklace, Ms. Strayer." The Prince gestured to the glittering stones then let go of one of Lauren’s hands to reach out and touch them. Using the grip on the hand he still held, he tugged Lauren closer.

"Thank you." Lauren pulled her hand away and discreetly moved out of his reach, trying not to appear as repulsed as she felt. Okay, now I know why Dev didn’t want him to feel like I was fair game. Yuck. "It was a gift from… Mad… Devlyn." Her lover would say her name, she admonished herself. Lauren smiled up at Dev, who glanced back down at her with apologetic eyes.

Prince Hassan retracted his hand casually, although he felt stung by her actions. "I trust that you are enjoying all that my lovely nation has to offer."

"Unfortunately, this is a business trip, Your Highness," Dev interrupted. "We’ve had no free time for sight seeing. Perhaps another time." Like ten minutes after never.

He frowned. "Perhaps." Then his frown shifted into a smile that the women were sure only he found charming. "I believe then that I need to make the most out of our short time together." The man handed a full glass of champagne to Dev, who took the glass without thinking. Then he turned to Lauren and smiled broadly. "It seems that I need some more champagne. Would you care to join me, Ms. Strayer?"

Dev stepped in between Lauren and the Prince, her temper flaring. "No, she would not, you son-"

"Why, yes." Lauren laid a calming hand against Dev’s back, then moved around her. "Thank you, Your Highness. I would be delighted."

The man’s chest immediately puffed out, and he tossed Devlyn a conceited grin.

No unmarried woman would refuse him. And that a woman could be chosen over him? That was unthinkable.

"One moment please, Your Highness. I need to speak with Devlyn." Lauren immediately grasped Dev’s hand and walked them several feet away. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Let me handle this, Devlyn."

"I will not!" Dev whispered back angrily. "He’s making a play for you right in front of me! Of all the arrogant pieces of…"

"I know." Lauren made a face. "He’s a pig. But I’ve got the sneaking suspicion that you punching him in the nose wouldn’t do anything for our two country’s relations." A pale brow lifted. "Right?"

Dev’s expression turned sulky. "I wasn’t going to punch him." Yes, I was. Shit. I’m going insane.

"Uh huh." Lauren smiled gently. "I know you were only trying to get him to leave me alone by telling him we were lovers. And for most men, I think that would do it. But Prince Hassan is apparently the over eager type who needs a little extra convincing." She patted Dev’s arm reassuringly. "Trust me."

Devlyn exhaled unhappily. "Do I have a choice?"

Lauren pretended to think for a moment before she smiled sassily. "Ummm... not really."

Blue eyes took on a dangerous glint as Dev peeked over her shoulder at the Prince. "I’m going to be watching him. And if he gets even the tiniest bit out of hand…"

"I know. I know. Now go greet your other guests before you get a reputation for being a horrible hostess." Lauren squared her shoulders, realizing that she’d never even had the chance to be nervous in her surroundings. Things had just happened too quickly. "I’ll be fine."

Dev flashed her a gleaming smile full of admiration and affection. But there was a serious edge to her voice that garnered the younger woman’s complete attention. Piercing eyes bore straight into Lauren, and they stopped speaking for a long moment as the rest of the world faded away. "Just don’t forget who your escort is tonight," Dev finally whispered softly, her heart thundering in her ears. This should be for real. Not some stupid ruse.

Lauren swallowed. "I won’t." Several more seconds passed before their surroundings seeped back into their consciousness. Lauren closed her eyes for a moment to clear her head. Time to get this fixed. She purposefully strode over to Prince Hassan, who had been waiting, stealing furtive glances at the women and wondering if his bed might be warmed by more than just Lauren tonight. Lauren wrapped her arm around his and headed them in the general direction of the bar. "We need to have a little talk."

"I was hoping you would see me alone."

"I... um... I wanted to make something clear to you, Your Highness. I thought it best if we spoke privately. That’s all."

"But a woman as beautiful as you should not be required to think."

Lord, help me. Maybe I’ll be the one to punch him. Prudently, Lauren decided to plow ahead, ignoring his last remark. "I’m flattered by your attentions, Your Highness." Gag. "But I’m perfectly happy with Devlyn."

"Obviously, President Marlowe values you, or you would not be attending a function such as this. But you are merely a lover and not her wife, correct? I have four wives and several lovers. And it is you that I am interested in tonight."

Lucky them. "Be that as it may, I only have one lover, and I’m not interested in any others." Lauren was running out of patience quickly. What was it going to take to put off Romeo? Her imaginary status as Devlyn’s lover was apparently far enough below that of a spouse that Prince Hormones felt free to try his luck. A server finally passed them, and she snatched a flute of champagne from the tray, tossing it back in one deep swallow. "Your Highness, I’m trying to be discreet here. But you’ve left me no choice but to be rather explicit."

He leaned closer, obviously extremely interested.

"I am completely satisfied." Lauren wriggled pale brows, and her voice dropped to a sexual purr that did an excellent job of conveying in exactly what way Dev satisfied her. "I wouldn’t trade Devlyn for ten men." She licked her lips slowly and tried not to burst out laughing at the look of surprise, then arousal, that swept across his face. "No offense."

The Prince cleared his throat, suddenly embarrassed. His respect for the tall American jumped several notches. "None taken, Ms. Strayer. I’m glad that you are so," he paused and smiled with open appreciation, "satisfied." Lauren was a beauty. But he wasn’t foolish enough to chase after a lost cause.

"Thank you. I am a very lucky woman." Relief flooded her. Finally. Just then David joined them. Perfect timing. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. I hope your meetings tomorrow go very smoothly."

"I’m sure they will. It seems that President Marlowe is a master at getting and keeping what she desires most."

Lauren ducked her head and smiled. "I agree. Good night." She turned to David. "I believe there was someone you wanted to introduce me to?"

David stared at her blankly.

"Across the room," she prompted, tilting her head in a direction she’s chosen randomly, hoping it would put her as far away from Prince Dipshit as she could get.

David’s eyes widened slightly with recognition. "Oh, yes, of course." He quickly scanned the crowd and threw out a name. "If you’ll excuse us, Your Highness?"

The Prince nodded and insisted on taking Lauren’s hand and giving it another little kiss.

"You’re a lifesaver, David," Lauren said softly as soon as they were out of the Prince’s earshot.

He stopped walking and looked at her curiously. "How’d you know my Secret Service name?"

* * *

The Prince smiled at Dev. He had managed to avoid her for the past two hours but he was about ready to retire and decided a quick goodbye was in order. "It seems that your Ms. Strayer is very much taken," he conceded.

Dev spun around at the sound of the Prince’s voice, and another glass of champagne was thrust into her hand.

She had downed hers in one swallow when Lauren and the Prince left in search of a server or the bar. And even as she tried to mingle, she found her attention drifting across to Lauren. It was only after Lauren had finally broken away with David, that she felt comfortable enough to begin mixing with her guests. "I told you that this afternoon," Dev stated flatly. "What finally convinced you?"

The young man burst out laughing. "Ms. Strayer’s declaration of her ‘satisfaction’ in your ‘arrangement’."

Dev blinked. What? Oooooo... Well, thank you, Lauren! She grinned rakishly at the Prince, who looked as though he would high-five her if he were familiar with the gesture.

Instead, he slapped her between the shoulders with gusto. Apparently, Dev had been accepted as ‘one of the boys’. "I have no hard feelings, Madam President." His brow furrowed a little, not quite understanding why this whole thing seemed to bother the American President so. Lauren was merely her lover. President Marlowe was a beautiful and powerful woman, and her nation obviously accepted her sinful ways. Surely she had dozens of lovers. "She’s just a woman," he finally said, still puzzled but willing to let it go. He waved a hand dismissively. "Nothing that we should allow to interfere in our negotiations tomorrow."

"Until tomorrow then," Dev ground out, needing to make a hasty retreat before she did something stupid. It’ll only make Lauren mad if I go ahead and punch him in the nose.

"Anxious to get back to your beautiful blonde?" he laughed. "Ahh... I cannot blame you a bit. Lucky for me, she can easily be replaced with another beautiful blonde."

Dev’s eyes darkened with unspent anger, and she moved to shake Prince Hassan’s hand. She grasped it firmly and leaned forward, placing her lips near his ear. "That, Your Highness, is where you are dead wrong."

Continued - Chapter 4


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