Page 28 of Commander

Tomorrow, I’d live here. In this palatial home as the first lady.

Gone was the daughter of the no-name technology programmer and nurse, gone was the human rights attorney, and definitely gone was the North American director of Solon.

It had killed me not to strap my thigh piece on today, but my mother had ordered me not to have it on me at any time during the wedding. We’d never finished our garden conversation but I’d gotten the gist of her message. She was right—I couldn’t risk my future for the life I’d agreed to step away from.

Just as I approached the doors to the Yellow Oval Room, Leara Crawford, Ashur’s personal secretary, approached me.

She wore a tailored gray suit, with a fire-engine red blouse underneath and matching Louboutin heels. At near seventy, Leara was stylish in the way women dreamed of being at any age. I so wanted to be her when I grew up.

“Hi, Leara.”

“Ms. Zain,” she responded, making me frown. It still took me a second to get used to how people formally addressed me, especially when I’d known them outside of the political world.

Before joining Ashur’s team, Leara had been a policy research specialist at the United Nations. She was my go-to expert for various cases. And because of her, I was able to navigate countless situations that required an in-depth knowledge of laws in non-US-friendly countries.

“Do I want to know what’s going on in there?”

A smile touched Leara’s lips. “There is a level of frost growing on the light fixtures that makes me think you’ll need a jacket to ward off the chill.”

“So, no friendly conversations and excitement for the wedding?” I asked, knowing anything in that realm of that line of thinking was a long shot when Minesh Kumar was in the vicinity.

She shook her head in response.

Leara had been privy to Minesh Kumar’s explosion of anger when he’d learned I was the one Ashur had asked to marry. The man had refused to accept the engagement and went as far as to tell Ashur he’d disown him for marrying filth like me and to threaten that I’d lose my fancy career with the right words from him.

It had taken all my strength not to punch him. The man thought he could use the same tactics he’d used on the girl who had to choose between the boy she loved and her father’s career and livelihood.

To my surprise, Ashur had stepped in as he’d done the other day and asked his father to leave if he couldn’t show me respect.

“Senator Kumar-Camden has been playing interference by having the children in the room, but I think she has reached her limit for her father’s antics.”

“Got to love Sam for trying. What about Jacinta? Minesh loves her, and she can usually occupy his time with discussion about Texas business for hours.”

Leara winced. “I believe Senator Camden-George is no longer his favorite after she told him not to talk down to Senator Kumar-Camden or question her parenting.”

“Jacinta’s pregnancy has caused her to lose her tolerance for drama. Let me go in and focus his wrath on me. I’m a tough gal. I can handle it.” I squared my shoulders and prepared myself for the meeting.

“I know you can, but that isn’t why I’m here. President Kumar wants a word with you in private.”

“About?” I asked, not understanding why my heartbeat jumped a notch as I thought about being alone in a room with Ashur.

It wasn’t as if we hadn’t spent time by ourselves before. It had been a weekly occurrence since Ashur had taken office. It was during those evenings that our friendship had grown. We’d discuss everything from pop culture to politics and our various stances on everything and anything, many times us being on opposite sides. However, until two days ago, we’d never crossed the line to anything physical, even with the undercurrent of desire constantly lingering between us. Now that we’d knocked down the wall I’d erected, there was no stopping either of us from acting on our attraction.

A tingle went up my spine and a pulse of desire began a steady throb between my legs.

“Where should I meet him? His office?” I glanced at Casey, who stepped back from the Yellow Oval Room doors.

Leara shook her head. “In the master suite.”

I licked my lips and then swallowed.

What was the man up to?

I’d never spent any time in the master bedroom. Even when the movers brought my things in, my assistant had supervised.

I wasn’t the naive eighteen-year-old who believed in happily ever after, and Ashur wasn’t the up-and-coming college graduate who viewed me as the most precious person in his life. This time, there wasn’t any expectation other than what was stated in the contract. We both knew where we stood on things, especially the past. This was a business arrangement, nothing more.

Now, if only my heart could remember this.

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