Fatal Identity Read online

  When the local anchors came back on, the FBI director’s murder was the top story.

  “Mr. Vice President,” Brant said. “We’re ready.”

  “Sam?”

  She took his outstretched hand. “Let’s go.”

  They rode home in silence, the comfortable kind of silence, the kind in which no words were required. She needed only the heat of his body next to hers to feel grounded, to clear her mind, to think through the case from all angles. There were times, especially on days like this one, when she wondered how she’d managed to function before she had him and his calming effect in her life.

  “Thanks for coming with me to the hospital,” she said.

  “Nowhere else I’d rather be than wherever you are. Sorry it’s always such a production.”

  “I’m all for keeping you safe. Whatever it takes.”

  “Sometimes it’s too much for me. It really is. I feel like a circus animal locked behind the gilded cage.”

  “It’s an adjustment. In a year, it’ll be old hat, and you’ll be used to it.”

  “I hope so, because four months in, I’m ready to break out and run for it.”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  His low chuckle made her smile. “Reminds me of the first time I wore a tie and felt like it was literally choking me to death. I couldn’t stop touching it, looking for relief.”

  Because he seemed to need the distraction and because Brant was riding in the front seat, Sam cupped Nick’s groin. “I know that feeling. I can’t stop touching it, looking for relief.”

  His bright smile lit up his eyes. “Are you trying to change the subject, my love?”

  “Just trying to get your mind off the confinement. Is it working?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Hmm,” she said, stroking him through his jeans until he was hard as a rock under her hand. “It seems to be having the desired effect. A whole different kind of confinement.”

  “If you build it, you must tend to it.”

  “Is that a rule?”

  “A new rule.”

  She glanced at the front seat and then tugged at the button to his jeans.

  He stopped her with a hand over hers. “Not here.”

  “Come on. They’ll never know.”

  “Not here.”

  She made a pout face at him. “You’re absolutely no fun.”

  “You know otherwise.” He kept his hand over hers, pressing her palm against his hard length. “I’m feeling terribly depressed and confined. I need you to take my mind off my troubles the minute we get home.”

  “The minute?”

  “The very second we walk in the door.”

  “Someone ought to warn poor Shelby.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  NICK LAUGHED AND kissed her neck, which sent shivers spiraling down her spine. Apparently shivers on her spine led to an ache between her legs. How did he do that so easily? That was one of the great unsolved mysteries of her life, one she was more than happy to keep mysterious.

  As they got out of the car at home, she noticed how he kept his coat strategically positioned over the front of him, and a tight grip on her hand. They were ushered into the house by the agent at the door.

  Shelby was asleep on the sofa.

  Sam took off her coat and tossed it over the sofa, earning a glare from her neatnik husband. “Can I take your coat, honey?” she asked with a cheeky grin.

  “I’ll keep it on, thank you.”

  Sam laughed, which earned her another furious glare as he tugged her through the house. “Shelby—”

  “Let her sleep. She’s perfectly comfortable where she is, and Hill’s working anyway. She’s better off here than home alone.”

  “Said the world’s horniest vice president.”

  “Keep talking and laughing at me, and you’ll give me no choice but to spank your sexy ass until it’s bright red.”

  Sam stared at the back of his head, stunned that he would say such a thing out loud in a house full of Secret Service agents who watched their every move—except in the bedrooms and bathrooms. Oh, and their third-floor loft. Those spaces were strictly off limits.

  Melinda was sitting outside Scotty’s room. Of course she was. “Good evening Mr. Vice President, Mrs. Cappuano.”

  “Evening,” Nick said gruffly as he went into their bedroom, towing her behind him, and slammed the door.

  “Why don’t you just announce what we’re going to—”

  His lips came down on hers as he lifted and pressed her back against the door he’d just closed.

  Oh. My. Sam loved him like this, unhinged, undone and nothing at all like the calm, cool customer he was to the rest of the world. She loved that only she got to see him this way, that she’d driven him to it with some harmless flirting.

  He devoured her with his lips and tongue, biting down on her bottom lip until the painful pleasure had her crying out. “Shhh, you don’t want your friend Melinda to hear us.”

  “Not here.”

  He pushed his hard cock into the V of her legs. “Right here. Just like our first time. Remember?”

  “How could I ever forget?”

  “I relived that a million times in the years we spent apart.”

  “So did I. That was an incredible night, and this will be too, but I can’t do it here, with her on the other side of the door. I just can’t.”

  Groaning in aggravation, he cupped her ass and picked her up to carry her to the other side of the room, to the farthest wall from the hallway. “Better?”

  “Much.”

  “I’m putting you down for five seconds. Get your clothes off.”

  “Only if you do the same.”

  His shirt flew over his head, making her laugh at his haste.

  “Are you laughing at me again?”

  “Would I do that?”

  “I believe you would. You’d do it just so I’ll spank your sweet ass.”

  The very thought ignited her desire. “No, don’t do that.”

  “Now you’re telling me what to do?”

  What did it say about her that she, who was dominant in every aspect of her life, absolutely loved when he dominated her in the bedroom?

  “Please, Nick. I’ll behave.”

  “No, you won’t,” he said, laughing.

  When they were both naked, he lifted her, cupping her ass in his big hands and bringing her down on his hard cock.

  Sam gasped at the impact and held on tight to him, knowing he’d never drop her but unnerved by the position nonetheless.

  “Relax,” he said, tuned in to her as always. “I’ve got you.”

  She loved the play of his muscles under her hands as he moved in her. She loved his confidence and the way he watched over her as he made love to her. She loved everything about him.

  He played her body like a maestro, and had her on the verge of climax when he stopped, withdrawing and putting her down.

  It took Sam a moment to catch up. “What... What’re you doing?”

  “I want you on the bed, on all fours. Right now.”

  The authoritative way in which he said that made her skin tingle and her blood heat as she made her way to the bed to do what he’d asked.

  “Down on your elbows,” he said in the gruff tone he saved only for her.

  In a previous life, Sam would’ve been self-conscious about having her naked ass in the air for a lover’s inspection, but with him, there were no thoughts of things such as vanity. Not when she knew he loved and worshipped every inch of her—and told her so frequently. His adoration set her free from the chains of the past, and allowed her to give in to the powerful desire.

  She felt the bed dip behind her and then his hands were
on her cheeks, squeezing and shaping them. Though she knew it was coming, it still came as a surprise when he spanked the right one and then the left one. God, she loved that. It turned her on like nothing else ever had.

  He drove into her as he spanked her again, sparking an epic release that detonated deep inside and radiated through her entire body, driving every thought from her mind that didn’t involve him and the magic they created together.

  She came back down from the incredible high to discover he was still hard inside her, still keeping up a relentless pace.

  Nick ran his hand over one of the heated spots on her ass, turning the ache into heat that had her climbing again.

  Before him, before them, once was a miracle. Now, the word multiple was a regular part of her sexual vocabulary.

  “Shhh,” he said, making her realize she was expressing her pleasure a little too loudly.

  “I hope she’s listening,” Sam said.

  That earned her another slap to the ass. God, he was killing her, one deep thrust at a time. Then he reached around to caress her clit and she came hard—again—this time taking him with her. With him hot and heavy above her, she collapsed onto the mattress, her entire body quivering. When he would’ve withdrawn from her, she took hold of his arm to keep him there a little while longer.

  “I’m not crushing you?”

  “I like being crushed by you.”

  “Are you okay? I was a little rough...”

  “I loved it, and I’m fine.” She squeezed her inner muscles, drawing a deep groan from him.

  “Keep that up, and you’ll be looking at round two.”

  “You’re supposed to be resting and regaining your strength, not gearing up for round two—or is it round four?”

  He pushed his hips against her ass. “I declare myself fully recovered. So that’s a yes for round four?”

  Sam groaned and then laughed. “When are you going to start acting like the old married guy that you are and have sex with your wife once a week like a normal husband?”

  “Never,” he said, biting the back of her shoulder just hard enough to ensure he had her full attention. “As long as I’ve got the hottest wife in the world in my bed, nothing about this marriage is ever going to be normal.” He withdrew from her and turned her over. “This time I want to see your gorgeous face.” Brushing the hair back from her forehead, he gazed down at her as he entered her again.

  Sam curled her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck.

  “I love my wife.”

  “I love my sexy husband.”

  And she loved the smile that lit up his beautiful eyes. As he moved in her, she could spare no thoughts for the case, her heartbroken squad, her injured partner or anything other than the exquisite pleasure she found in her husband’s arms.

  * * *

  FILLED WITH ENERGY after her passionate night with Nick, Sam was up early to make coffee and pancakes for her squad. The blanket that had covered Shelby was neatly folded on the sofa, but she was nowhere to be found. Sam assumed she’d gone home.

  While the pancakes cooked, she checked her email, found the DNA report from Lindsey and forwarded it to Detective Watson in Franklin with a request for notification as soon as he knew whether it was a match. She sent Watson a text to let him know about the email but didn’t mention the part about Josh currently being missing.

  “What’s gotten into you?” Nick asked when he came downstairs dressed in a suit and tie. “Other than me.” He laughed at his own joke.

  Sam poured him a cup of coffee. “Very funny, and why are you dressed for work?”

  “Um, because I’m going to work?”

  “I called you out sick for the week, so you’ll have nothing to do. You may as well stay home with me and help me figure out what the hell is going on with this case.”

  Nick thought about that suggestion for a second and then reached for his tie, unknotting it and pulling it off before releasing the top two buttons on his dress shirt.

  Smiling, Sam went to him, looped the tie around his neck and drew him into a kiss. “You were so uncorruptible when I first met you, and look at you now.”

  “I don’t think that’s actually a word.”

  “Don’t try to dodge the truth.”

  “I’ll admit to being easily led when my beautiful wife wants me to be bad.”

  Scotty came into the kitchen wearing his grumpy morning face and scowled at the sight of them kissing. “Knock that off. I haven’t had coffee yet.”

  Sam lost it laughing. “You don’t drink coffee.”

  “When will I be old enough for coffee?”

  “Talk to me when you’re fifteen.” She served him a plate of pancakes and the syrup she’d warmed.

  “Did you actually make these?” he asked as he lathered the pancakes with butter before dumping a healthy amount of syrup on them.

  “I did.”

  He looked to Nick. “Did she really?”

  “Is he accusing me of lying?” Sam asked her husband.

  “I think it’s more a matter of him pointing out an unusual and unprecedented level of domesticity on your part.”

  Scotty snorted with laughter. “What he said.”

  “See if I ever get up early to cook for you guys again,” she muttered, even though she loved that Scotty was comfortable enough in their home to tease them.

  “Why is your tie around your neck rather than where it belongs?” Scotty asked Nick between bites.

  “I’m staying home today. Still not feeling a hundred percent.”

  “Neither am I, but I have to go to school. How is that fair?”

  “You know what happens when you miss a day of school, buddy,” Nick said. “It piles up on you. If you get there, and you really don’t feel good, you can come home, okay?”

  “I guess.”

  A knock on the door preceded Brant into the kitchen. The poor guy had learned the hard way to knock before he entered a room in their home. “Are you ready to leave, Mr. Vice President?”

  “I’ve decided to give it another day before I go back.”

  “Very well.”

  “Brant, would you please let them know outside that my squad will be arriving shortly?” Sam said.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Thank you.” Under her breath she said, “Don’t call me ma’am.”

  Jeannie McBride was the first to arrive, and like Scotty, expressed amazement that Sam had made breakfast.

  “I’ll remember this at annual review time,” Sam said.

  “I hope you’ll remember only how impressed I was,” Jeannie said with a smirk as she loaded her plate with pancakes and sausage.

  The others filtered in, razzed her about cooking and then devoured the pancakes and guzzled the coffee. At seven-fifteen, Sam took a call from Captain Malone.

  “Would you happen to have any idea where my Homicide squad might be this morning?”

  “Oh, um, I made them breakfast. Sorry, I should’ve invited you.”

  “What’re you up to, Holland?”

  “I’m up to my elbows in pancake batter. You want some?”

  “I know what you’re doing.”

  “What am I doing?”

  “You’ve called your squad to your house to work the case from there since you’re not allowed to come here.”

  “Captain! I would never do something like that.”

  The others shook with silent laughter as they listened to her side of the conversation while he growled in frustration.

  “You’re welcome to join us for breakfast if you’d like. And if you wanted to bring any new information that came in overnight about the murder of Troy Hamilton and the disappearance of Josh Hamilton, that’d be an excellent hostess gift.”


  She heard the captain’s snort of laughter before the line went dead.

  “Is he coming?” Tyrone asked.

  “We’ll see.”

  Her phone rang again with a call from Avery Hill. “Good morning, Agent Hill.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  “I don’t have a plan. I’m suspended.”

  “Cut the shit, Holland. You always have a plan. What is it?”

  “Would you like to join my squad and me for breakfast at my house?”

  After a brief pause, he said, “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

  Sam had no sooner ended that call when her phone rang again, this time with a call from Lilia. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning, Mrs. Cappuano. I trust the vice president is feeling better?”

  Sam smiled to herself as she eyed her insatiable husband. “He’s feeling much better.”

  The comment earned her a sly, intimate smile from Nick.

  “That’s such a relief. The White House switchboard and communications staff have been inundated with calls inquiring about his health.”

  “Oh. Well.” Sam glanced at Nick, who was talking to Tyrone and Carlucci. “I’m sure he’ll want to issue a statement to put fears to rest. I’ll mention it to him.”

  “That’d be great, thank you. The reason I called, though, was to tell you that we have a draft of your speech for Friday completed, and we hoped we might run through it with you later today.”

  For a moment, Sam’s mind went totally blank. Then she remembered she’d agreed to give the keynote address at a convention addressing women’s health and fertility. The event had seemed like a long way off when she’d agreed to do it. How could it be this Friday? “I could come in around noon if that would work.”

  “Shall I send a car?”

  “Only because that’s easier.”

  Lilia chuckled. “Got it. I’ll send a car for you at eleven forty-five.”

  “See you then.”

  Nick crossed the room to her. “Where are you going at noon, babe?”

  “Apparently, I’m going to the White House to go over my speech for Friday.”

  “That’s this week?”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “How’re you feeling about it? You still want to do it?”