rest and then we’ll—”
“I need my wife, I need my family.”
Jerrod let out an impatient breath as if he’d heard this too many times. “Sarah isn’t your wife. A wedding right now is the last thing you need. Win this election, then you can throw yourself a wedding on the White House lawn with all your daughters as attendants.”
Buck raked a hand through his hair. He’d noticed this morning in the mirror that he was getting grayer. It was no wonder given what he’d gone through in the past year. If it hadn’t been his first wife, Sarah, it had been his second wife, Angelina, or one of his six daughters. He was trying to keep his family together and run for president. He’d always felt that he owed it to his party, to his country. But right now he felt as if he had nothing left to give.
Jerrod came over to the desk in the room and put down the stack of papers he’d been holding. “You’re doing well in the polls. You have this. Try to have a little patience. Even the voting public is on your side. So don’t do anything to screw it up. Sarah isn’t going anywhere.”
He wasn’t so sure about that, recalling how Sarah had been ready to marry Russell Murdock not that long ago. Murdock had almost run her over when she’d come stumbling out of the woods last year. Until that moment, she’d had no memory of the hours before—or the past twenty-two years. She knew only that she had jumped from a plane and parachuted into those Montanan woods. After landing in a tree, she’d managed to climb down and walk some distance to the dirt road where Murdock had almost hit her. He’d been her protector and probably still was. Buck didn’t blame Sarah for agreeing to marry the man. Russell was apparently nice enough and at the time, Buck had been married to Angelina.
With Angelina dead for almost a year now, there was no reason he and Sarah couldn’t be together. Even the media had taken it easy on him when he’d admitted to a woman on the plane—who’d turned out to be a reporter—that he was still in love with his first wife. He’d thought her dead for twenty-two years, so no one could blame him for remarrying. Angelina had supported his political ambition. She’d been determined to put him in the White House. But she hadn’t lived to see that happen.
Now there was nothing standing in the way of him and Sarah being together. Nothing but this damned election.
* * *
CASSIDY AND JACK found a small market only a half block from the bar and bought what they needed. They’d grabbed a cab outside the store. Fifteen blocks away, the driver let them out at a run-down hotel.
Jack had looked over at her, his expression pained. “We can look for some other place if this is—”
“It’s perfect,” she said, gazing out at the large brick building. Maybe it was the drinks she’d had, but she felt as if she was a character in a thriller movie. “No one will be looking for me here,” she said, thinking how true that was. The memory of the large man who’d grabbed her on the street seemed surreal now. It had happened so fast that it felt more like a nightmare she’d now awakened from. Had it really happened or had she dreamed it?
Wired on adrenaline and alcohol, she had leaped at the idea of a disguise. For so long she’d wanted to be someone different. Now she was getting her chance. It didn’t hurt that a handsome Texas cowboy was her sidekick.
Jack chuckled as they got out of the taxi. “I hope you don’t regret this.”
Her whole life she’d been protected and pampered. She hadn’t taken chances. Hadn’t experienced any crazy adventures because scandalized behavior would hurt her father.
But now someone had tried to kidnap her—because of who her father was no doubt. She felt as if all bets were off. Had her whole life been heading toward this moment? Or was she deluding herself because she didn’t want to face just how dangerous this still was?
Jack paid at the scarred desk and then led her to the old elevator. It cranked and groaned as it climbed to the fourth floor. The hallway they stepped out into needed paint and new carpeting badly. It had an odd smell, one she didn’t recognize and didn’t want to try to place.
Jack put the old-fashioned key into the lock, turned and pushed open the door to their room. Cassidy hadn’t been expecting much, which was good. The hotel room was dark, dingy and sad.
“You sure this is going to work for you?” Jack asked, looking somewhat taken aback by their surroundings.
She laughed. “See why I don’t tell anyone who my father is? They start treating me like I’m a princess. I’ve roughed it camping out in the Crazy Mountains as a kid. I can take one bad hotel room.” She stepped in, going straight to the window. After she attempted to open it for what little fresh air there might be, Jack came up behind her and lifted it a few inches. Just the closeness of him sent a shiver of anticipation through her.
Cassidy wondered if he felt it as well and that’s why he quickly stepped away. Hot air rushed in but it smelled better.
Turning, she spotted the bags he’d brought up. Digging out the scissors and hair dye, she headed for the bathroom, leaving the door open.
“I saw a used clothing place around the corner,” Jack said from the other part of the hotel room. “I’ll go get you something else to wear.”
“Don’t you need to know my size?” she asked, turning in the bathroom doorway, scissors in hand.
He grinned as his gaze took her in. She felt warmth flood her. “I think I have it covered. Keep the door locked. I won’t be long.”
* * *
JACK HURRIED, not wanting to leave Cassidy alone for long. Inside the used-clothing shop, he quickly went to what he believed was her size and sorted through the clothes for something appropriate. Appropriate would be something totally different from what Cassidy had been wearing.
All the time, his mind was racing as to what to do next. They needed somewhere to hide her while he tried to figure out what to do. If his father was as deeply involved in this as he suspected... He had to know the truth. Short of asking him outright, he realized there was only one way he might be able to find out what was going on.
Now, he knew that his father had secrets. It was something he’d suspected, he realized, for a long while. When he’d worked at the warehouse, he’d discovered a locked drawer in his father’s desk. When he’d asked him about it, Tom Durand had said he just kept a little spare cash in it. He’d joked that he better never find it missing or he’d know who had taken it. Even at the time, Jack had questioned why his father would keep spare cash at the office. Tom Durand always carried a couple of grand on him.
Now Jack wanted to know what was really in that locked drawer. Which meant he’d have to go to the warehouse tonight. He knew he had to move quickly. If he was right and one of the men had recognized him, then his father would try to cover up any improprieties.
But what to do with Cassidy? He couldn’t leave her at the hotel. It didn’t feel safe with her alone. But where?
With several outfits he thought would work for her, he checked out and headed back to the hotel. Before he’d left, he’d put his gun under one of the pillows on the bed. He didn’t like walking around Houston with a loaded weapon even though he had a permit to carry it.
When he reached the hotel room, he used his key to open the door. He could hear her moving around in the bathroom
