His Comfort and Joy

“Now, it’s none of my business who sleeps with who on the Hill.” John started to move around the room, looking at the leather-bound books on the shelves. “God knows, you can’t swing a dead cat without hitting an adulterer in that town. But I resent the hell out of a man who cheats on his wife while holding himself out to be a feminist. Adams is trying to bring another Equal Rights Amendment to the floor, for God’s sakes. He’s made a point to support women’s causes.”

God damn, Gray thought. Roger Adams.

Never would have seen that one coming. And Allison probably wouldn’t have, either.

John rattled his ice. “I have to tell you, the fact that the idiot picks a reporter and spills our secrets to her while he’s taking her to bed really ticks me off.”

The senator paused and looked across the room. There was calculation in his face and Gray’s eyes narrowed.

“I have the feeling you’re not just passing along gossip,” Gray drawled. “Don’t beat around the bush, Becks. What do you want from me?”

The Majority Leader had the grace to flush. “My fellow senators come to you for advice. They seek you out not just because you’re smart, but because you’ve gotten the most powerful of them elected. I want you to warn the others. Adams isn’t to be trusted. Not anymore. I’d do it myself, but they’d look through party lines and figure I was just trying to screw the guy.”

Gray smiled sardonically. “And you’re not? Not even considering he blocked your attempt to loosen up the campaign finance reform bill in the last session?”

“See, this is my point exactly. That’s what everyone will think when really I’m just trying to keep my Senate protected.”

His Senate. Not the American people’s.

Gray felt a wave of exhaustion come over him, like someone had thrown a wet wool blanket over his head. He was getting tired of Capitol Hill and its intrigues, he really was.

“Look, Gray, I’ll give you the names of my sources. Check out the stories yourself. And then help me put an end to these salacious articles. That reporter is making a mockery out of our political process and that gum-flapping Democrat is helping her do it.”

The door to the study burst open.

Joy pulled up short, an empty tray hanging from her hand. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was looking for the library.”

Becks smiled paternally, the hard tone in his voice disappearing completely. “Not to worry, my dear. An interruption from the likes of you is no hardship.”

She looked flustered. “I’ll just come back for the empty glasses in here later—”

“Not at all. I’m leaving.” The senator put down his drink and smiled at Gray. “We’ll talk soon and thank you again for including me tonight. It meant a lot just to see Walter again. He did so much for me when I was getting started.”

As Becks left, Joy stared at his face as if trying to place the man. Then she shook her head. “I’ll sweep this room later.”

She turned away. And Gray couldn’t let her go.

“Joy. Wait.”

She hesitated, back straight as a wall. When he went over to her, she did not look at him.

Good Lord, she was so lovely.

The light from overhead fell down on the delicate planes of her face and brought out the golds and pale reds of her hair. Her long, slender neck was set off by the short white-lace collar of the uniform, her collarbones just barely exposed by the cut of the blouse. Even at the end of a long night, she smelled like lavender.

Gray burned.

“Let me help you,” he said roughly.

Let me kiss you, he thought. Just once.

Impatience flickered over her features, tightening the lips he stared at. “That’s not necessary. Really.”

As if she’d have preferred to be aided by a gorilla.

“I want to.”

He polished off the bourbon he’d put down, reached for the senator’s glass, which was close by, and cocked his eyebrow. She brought up the tray and he put the crystal on it.

“I don’t need your help.”

“Yes, you’ve already pointed that out,” he murmured, taking the tray from her.

Joy swallowed a groan. She didn’t want to get anywhere near Gray. Not now. Not when she was trying so hard to put her crush to bed.

She winced. Bad choice of words.

“Shall we?” he said in that low rumble of his.

She glanced up and was unable to look further than the top button of his shirt.

The width of his shoulders was enough to block her view of the room entirely and he towered over her, making her feel small. She looked down a little, hoping he’d feel shorter that way. Instead she just noticed that he’d taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. His forearms were muscular with veins that ran down into his long, sure hands.

“Don’t you have something else to do?” she demanded.

Couldn’t he go save the world or something and let her finish her job in peace?

“Nope.”

Joy gritted her teeth and walked across the hall into a parlor. Going through the beautifully appointed room, she picked up empties and put them on the tray he held. As they moved around, she could feel him looming behind her and she could have sworn his eyes were on her body.

Stop it, she told herself. She knew damn well that was just her fantasies talking. He was only helping her out, probably thought he was being chivalrous.

When they were finished there, they went into the library she’d been looking for in the first place. With only the sound of his loafers and her flats on the marble floor, the silence started to get to her.

She couldn’t stand it anymore.

“So who was that man you were talking to? I feel like I’ve seen him before.”

“Just a politician.”

Somehow she doubted that. “I think I’ve seen him on TV.”

“You might have.”

“Actually, I think I’ve seen a lot of the people here tonight on CNN.”

She walked past an antique table and realized she’d missed a glass. Stopping abruptly, she bent over to grab it.