Fatal Frenzy: Book 9 of the Fatal Series Page 29

  He reached for the mug he’d placed on the bedside table and held it so she could see it.

  “Does this mean I have to get up and make myself presentable?”

  “I’m afraid so. There are hair and makeup people due shortly.”

  Moaning and groaning, she sat up in bed and took the mug from him. The sheet fell to her waist and the sight of her rumpled hair and sexy breasts nearly had him forgetting all about what they had to do today.

  “Quit that,” she said.

  “Quit what?”

  “Ogling your wife. You don’t have time for that.”

  “Ogling my wife is my favorite thing to do, especially when she’s naked, rumpled, sexy and grumpy in the morning.” He ran his finger from her chin to her chest, dragging it between her breasts.

  “Did you sleep?”

  “Enough.”

  “How much is enough?”

  “A few hours.”

  She caressed his smooth face. “Remember when my stomach was hurting so bad and you made me see Harry about it?”

  “I seem to recall something like that.”

  “I want you to see him or someone about the sleep issues. We can’t have our vice president perpetually fatigued. You need sleep. Can I talk to him about it if I get a chance?”

  He leaned in to kiss her. “Sure, as long as there are no reporters lurking, looking for a scoop on the insomniac VP.”

  “Dodging reporters is one of my favorite hobbies.”

  “While we’re on the subject of reporters, Terry and I have been talking about accepting one of those big network offers for a sit-down. Of course they all want both of us. Would you be willing?”

  “That doesn’t sound like dodging.”

  “No, it doesn’t. And if you don’t want to do it, I’ll certainly understand.”

  “Of course I’ll do it. I can’t send my gorgeous husband out there alone for all of female America to drool over.”

  His eyes rolled to high heaven. “What-ever.”

  “You have no idea how sexy you are. Sexiest vice president ever.”

  “Get your sexy ass out of bed and into the shower. We’ve got a schedule to keep.”

  “Get off me and I will.”

  Kissing from her lips to her neck, he said, “Last night was so amazing. It’s all I can think about this morning.”

  “Mmm, we’ll have to do that again sometime.”

  “Absolutely.” He gave her neck a little nibble that made her squeal.

  She pushed him away. “No hickeys! I’m going to be on TV today!” After placing the empty mug on the bedside table, she got up and headed for the bathroom, putting just enough wiggle in her sexy ass to get his motor running. “Don’t even think about it,” she said.

  The bathroom door slammed behind her and the lock clicked into place.

  Foiled.

  That’s all right. He had big plans for her later and she could make it up to him then.

  * * *

  Sam would never admit to being nervous. If she allowed herself to think about how many people would be watching them, she’d throw up. Rather than dwell on that pleasant thought, she tried to sit still while her hair was dried and straightened by a woman she’d never met before.

  Another woman applied a respectable amount of makeup and when they were done fluffing and buffing her, Sam decided she didn’t look as hideous as she felt on the inside, knowing they’d failed to find Androzzi the day before.

  Wearing a robe, she grabbed her phone off the charger and went across the hall to her closet, calling Captain Malone as she went.

  “You’re off today,” he said.

  “Good morning to you too. Anything new overnight?”

  “Other than the second kidnapping vic taking a turn for the worse, no.”

  “Ah damn it. How bad is it?”

  “They’re not saying, but she’s in critical condition, which is a downgrade from yesterday.”

  “I want that bastard so bad I can taste it.”

  “We all do. A bulletin has gone out to every member of the department with a description and everything we know about him. And we’ve sent it to everyone who is assisting us today. We’ve got ten thousand people on the streets today. If he’s still lurking in this city, we’ll find him.”

  “I really hope so.”

  “Don’t you have better things to do than call me?”

  “In fact I do. Shoot me a text if anything pops, okay?”

  “I will. Good luck today. Don’t trip and fall or anything.”

  “Your confidence in me is underwhelming.”

  The last thing she heard before she ended the call was his deep guffaw. He cracked himself up. Sam closed the door to the hallway and removed her robe to put on the sexy black underwear she’d ordered to wear under the red wool dress Marcus had made her. From her jewelry drawer, she retrieved the diamond key necklace Nick had given her on their wedding day and put it on. Next, she put on the dazzling diamond engagement ring she only wore on special occasions.

  A knock sounded on the door.

  “Who is it?”

  “Your husband.”

  “Come in but only if you’re alone.”

  Nick opened the door only wide enough to sneak in and closed it behind him. He’d gotten dressed in a sharp navy suit with the red tie Marcus had made for him and a white shirt. He looked very patriotic and very sexy. “Ah, damn,” he said, taking in the black underwear. “I’m going to be thinking about that all day.”

  “You’ve got other things to think about today.”

  From behind his back, he produced a wrapped box with a card. “For you.”

  “What’s this? It’s not my birthday or our anniversary or even Valentine’s Day.”

  “It’s just another Tuesday,” he said with a smile.

  She took the box from him and opened the card. To my Samantha, he’d written, Thanks for taking this crazy ride with me. I could never do it without you and Scotty to come home to every night. Love you forever, Nick. “Aww, that’s so sweet.”

  “Open it.”

  Inside the distinctive blue Tiffany box was a stunning platinum and diamond bangle bracelet. “Oh my God! This is gorgeous!” She put it on and held out her arm for him to see. “Thank you so much. If I’d known there were diamonds involved, I would’ve wanted you to be vice president sooner.”

  “Really?” he asked, his brow raised in amusement.

  “Okay, not really, but still, I love it.” She closed the small distance between them and kissed him, slapping away his hands. “Not now.”

  “Later. Definitely later.”

  She couldn’t wait for later.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The day unfolded with military precision. Sam, Nick and Scotty joined the Nelson family for services at St. John’s Episcopal Church, the so-called “Church of the Presidents” where Sam and Nick had been married last March. The Nelsons greeted them with hugs and a warm welcome that had filled Nick with scorn.

  He’d never thought David Nelson to be a fake until recently when he’d clearly used Nick to boost his own ratings and then relegated his popular vice president to the cheap seats of his administration. Nick planned to do something about that as soon as they got through today.

  In the motorcade that carried them to the Capitol for the official ceremony, Nick shared tidbits of history with Scotty, such as how the tradition of attending church before the inauguration began with President Franklin Delano Roosevelt in 1933.

  “This procession from the White House to the Capitol began in 1837 when Presidents Van Buren and Jackson rode in a carriage made of wood taken from the U.S.S. Constitution.”

  “How do you know this stuff?” Scotty asked.

 
; “I’d like to know the same thing,” Sam said.

  “I read up on it. This day becomes a lot more involved when one president is turning over power to another, which is what’ll transpire in four years.”

  “When Nelson turns things over to you,” Scotty said.

  “Getting ahead of yourself, much?” Nick asked his son.

  “I read the paper every day, and I read every word they say about you online. Everyone thinks it’s all yours in four years. It’s not just me.”

  Sam squeezed Nick’s hand and shared a smile with him. He had put her in charge of the O’Connor family Bible, which she held on her lap along with his hand. She was stunning in the red dress and the sexy black Louboutin heels he’d bought her for Christmas. He’d never forget the way she’d thanked him for the shoes, but he couldn’t think about that now or he’d risk an embarrassing situation.

  “While I appreciate your vote of confidence as well as your research,” he said to Scotty, “a lot can happen in four years.”

  “Care to make it interesting?” Scotty asked as Sam hooted with laughter.

  He eyed his son with interest. “What’ve you got in mind?”

  “I’ll bet you a hundred bucks right here and now that four years from today, we’ll be on our way to the Capitol for you to be sworn in as president.”

  “So if I take this bet of yours, I’m basically betting against myself, is that right?”

  Scotty mulled that over for a second or two. “All right how about this then… If I’m right, you have to pay me a hundred bucks.”

  “What if you’re wrong?”

  “Since you won’t bet against yourself, I don’t have to pay you anything.”

  “He’s scamming me, isn’t he?” Nick asked Sam.

  “Sounds like a fair deal to me,” she said, earning a big smile from Scotty.

  “Shake on it,” Scotty said.

  Nick reached out to shake his son’s outstretched hand. “You’ve got yourself a bet.”

  “Easiest hundred bucks I’ll ever make in my life,” Scotty declared.

  “We’ll see.”

  “Mom is our witness.”

  “I’ll make sure he pays you,” Sam said.

  “So you think I’m right too!”

  “I’m Switzerland.”

  “What does that mean?” Scotty asked.

  “Switzerland is known for being neutral,” Nick said. “They don’t take sides.”

  “I think I’d like to live in Switzerland.”

  “It’s a very peaceful nation,” Nick said, “and the skiing is great.”

  “We’ll have to check that out after you get done being president, but I suppose by then I won’t be living with you anymore.”

  “You can live with us for as long as you want to,” Nick said. “The lease has no expiration date.”

  “Good to know cuz if you’re living in the White House, I’m not moving out,” Scotty said, making them laugh. “So why is Inauguration Day on a Tuesday? That’s so random.”

  “For a big part of the country’s history, Inauguration Day was March 4th, which was also the last day of the congressional session. It was changed to January 20th by the 20th amendment to the Constitution. So it’s not always on a Tuesday.”

  “They had to amend the Constitution to change the date?” Scotty asked.

  “Yep.”

  “That seems like a lot of hassle for a date change.”

  “Well, they were changing what was outlined in the original Constitution, so it required an amendment.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  “I picture your dad teaching government classes at Harvard someday,” Sam said.

  “After he’s done being president maybe.”

  Nick loved how certain Scotty was that it was about his future. If only his son knew what they’d have to through to make it so. The thought of the fundraising, not to mention a national campaign, exhausted him, and it was years in the future—if it happened at all. That he was even in a position to be having that conversation with his son or anyone was still amazing to Nick.

  At the Capitol, they were whisked inside and escorted out to the west front terrace, which had been transformed for the inauguration with red, white and blue bunting, seats for hundreds of VIPs, including Sam and Nick’s family and friends who were off to the left while the Nelson contingent took the right.

  Accompanied by music from the Navy orchestra, Nick, Sam and Scotty made their way down the stairs to the front row. Nick waved to friends from the Senate, accepted handshakes from the Joint Chiefs as well as several Supreme Court justices. Beyond the Capitol, as far as the eye could see, was an absolute sea of people. He’d never seen more people in one place in his life. His belly fluttered with butterflies at the thought of what he was about to do.

  He accepted hugs from his dad, Leo, and Stacy, the stepmother who was only a few years older than him, as well as Graham and Laine O’Connor who sat next to Skip and Celia Holland. Nick took only a moment to wonder if Nicoletta was out there somewhere watching the son she’d ignored accept the second most powerful position in the world. He hoped she was watching. He hoped she was also wishing she’d been a better person and mother so she might’ve shared the stage with the other people he loved.

  And then he was standing before Chief Justice Byron Riley, his hand on the O’Connor family Bible with Samantha and Scotty by his side.

  “Mr. Vice President, please repeat after me,” Riley said. “I, Nicholas Domenic Cappuano, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies foreign and domestic, that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same and take this obligation freely without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion. I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office of which I am about to enter so help me God.”

  A deafening roar came from the crowd gathered on the mall as they waved to the people in what had to be the most surreal moment of Nick’s life to date. The applause went on and on and on. It went on for so long that Nick began to feel sort of uncomfortable. He could almost feel Nelson’s eyes boring into his back, as he waited for his moment in the spotlight.

  Nick waved one more time and then guided Sam and Scotty to their seats to make way for the president to be sworn in. After the oath of office was administered to President Nelson, he received decidedly less enthusiastic applause than Nick had gotten. He didn’t do much to help his popularity with an hour-long address that seemed to go on forever.

  Sitting next to him, Sam shivered in the cold so Nick removed his overcoat and put it over her lap. She was too cold to object.

  During the speech, Nelson repeatedly referred to his vice president as if they were the best of friends. Let him continue to believe that. The first time Nelson called on him to represent the administration at some far-flung event, Nick would put his cards on the table with the president and demand a seat at the table within the administration.

  He was looking forward to that.

  Nelson finally wrapped things up, clearing the way for the Inaugural Luncheon put on by the Joint Congressional Committee on Inaugural Ceremonies. The food featured selections from the home states of the president—bison from South Dakota—and vice president—lobster and New England clam chowder from Massachusetts. More than two thousand people attended the luncheon, held in the Capitol’s Statuary Hall. Speeches were made, gifts presented and toasts to the new administration made by members of the JCCIC.

  Halfway through the luncheon, Nick saw Sam smother a yawn, which had him holding back a laugh. Yes, it was boring, but it was also tradition. He reached for her hand under the table and gave it a squeeze, reminding her that even in a room full of the most powerful people on earth, they were still them.

  She smiled at him. Message rece
ived.

  Scotty and the rest of the family seemed to love all the pomp and ceremony. Skip Holland’s smile was wider than Nick had seen it in months, since well before the surgery he’d had to remove the bullet that had been lodged in his spine for nearly three years. It was good to see him back to smiling again after a difficult recuperation.

  Leo Cappuano was equally excited, and Nick’s four-year-old twin half brothers bounced in their seats, trying so hard to behave on their brother’s big day. From his spot at the head table, Nick could see Sam’s niece Brooke sitting next to her mother, Sam’s sister Tracy, their heads bent together as they whispered to each other. He was glad to see Brooke looking so well and getting along with her mother after the terrible ordeal they had been through before Thanksgiving.

  Everything had fallen into place for their families in recent months. The only thing Nick wanted that he didn’t have was the baby he knew Sam wished for, despite her assurances that their family was perfect just the way it was. He agreed—it was perfect, but it would be even more perfect if they could have a baby to love too. Scotty would be an awesome big brother, especially to a baby sister.

  Sam leaned in close to him. “What’re you thinking about?”

  “You, as usual. And Brooke—so nice to have her here and looking so well.” He would never tell her how often he thought about the baby he wanted so badly for her.

  “Yes, it is.”

  After lunch, they said goodbye to their extended families and were escorted by the Secret Service from the Capitol into the motorcade that would take them down Pennsylvania Avenue to the reviewing stand for the parade.

  “Are you still interested in walking part of the route, Mr. Vice President?” Brant asked.

  Nick looked at Sam, who nodded somewhat reluctantly.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Very good. We’ll let you know when.”

  “This is so cool,” Scotty said of the massive crowds that lined the avenue. “All my friends are going to see me on TV.”

  “You’ll be famous,” Sam said.

  “We’re all famous, duh.”

  “Yeah, Sam,” Nick said. “Duh.”

  She elbowed his ribs, making him laugh.