Page 157 of Pandora's Pleasure
I studied her face. “But I suppose it will have your name on it?”
“No, it will have yours.”
“My father managed to persuade you, then?”
“We haven’t spoken.”
That was confusing. “What were you going to build there?”
“Doesn’t matter now. Damien, I’m asking for your forgiveness.”
What the fuck.
I’d stepped inside the Twilight Zone. I was speaking with the most ruthless woman in Washington. She’d slashed budgets that could have saved lives, cut salaries, wiped out pensions, and had always proudly taken the sickeningly large bonuses offered after the fallout. Body snatchers had grabbed up Helen King’s soul. This couldn’t be her.
“Do you have a twin?” I asked, sarcasm dripping from my tone.
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t know what to say, Helen.”
“I’m glad it all worked out in the end,” she said.
Perhaps my father’s people had worked their magic behind the scenes, keeping my father out of it to protect him. Though that didn’t quite add up. I’d not broken things off with Pandora yet, and that was the deal, after all.
Her breath stuttered when she saw someone across the room. Following her gaze, I tried to see who’d rattled her. The evening was getting stranger by the second—Helen was staring at Pandora.
My lover approached us, looking dazzling in strappy heels and the shortest dress I’d ever seen her wear, showing off her beautiful bare legs. She was oozing sensuality, her golden locks curling over her shoulders.
She clutched a silver purse, and upon her elegant throat rested her silver key pendant.
At first I thought my inebriated state may have produced a mirage—was I really seeing this vision of loveliness? I was like a man in the desert who was desperate for sustenance. All I wanted was to taste her lips and hold her in my arms.
Wait.
She was meant to be back in the apartment where I’d hidden her away.
Pandora walked toward us with an easy grace, drawing the attention of everyone in the vicinity. She always looked striking but tonight there was something different in the way she carried herself. It was more than confidence…self-assurance, that’s what she exuded tonight. I’d seen a glimpse of it back at the apartment but for some reason beneath these glittering lights it was exaggerated.
Pandora stopped a few feet away from us.
“Hello, Helen,” she said with a nod.
“Ms. Bardot,” said Helen respectfully.
“You two know each other?” My eyes darted from one to the other.
“We’ve only just met, actually.” Pandora gave her a smug little smile. “We had a lovely chat a few minutes ago, didn’t we, Helen?”
Helen snapped her attention back to me. “It was lovely to see you again, Damien. I wish you all the best with your project.” She glanced at Pandora. “It was…nice meeting you, Ms. Bardot.”
I blinked in disbelief at the impossible statistical occurrence of Helen King looking shaken. She walked away from us as though her confidence had been obliterated. The woman who had taken down kings had been intimidated, and only a source of ultimate power could have had such an effect. The possibility of my father becoming President had unnerved her, clearly.
“That was strange.” I watched Helen disappear from view and then focused my attention on Pandora. “The project’s back on.”
“Oh, that is good news.” She flashed me a brilliant smile. “I had a good feeling about it.”
My heart surged with the knowledge that the Fairfield Project was happening. All those families would be given a chance to live a better life. I felt a rush of warmth and it wasn’t from the whisky.
