Cal adjusts himself, the sound of the zipper notifying me that he’s made himself decent again, before putting the car in drive and heading back home.

Run.

That’s the loudest thought in my head right now. Run far, far, far away from here. Stability and security are not worth the amount of unhappiness I feel daily being married to this man. He uses me for his own benefit and I have no way of stopping it. While it’s not worth it to me, I know that it’s very much worth it for the one person depending on me.

My mother.

“HE’S GOING TO announce his candidacy tomorrow,” I say quietly into the phone. After sexually pleasing Cal in the woods, we came straight home. All the policemen were gone, but the house is still a wreck. I started to clean it, but Cal stopped me saying he had already called the housekeeper to come in. Sitting on my bed in my reorganized room while Cal sits in the brandy room, I called my mother to let her know what was going on.

“Oh, honey,” she responds, her voice clogged with emotion. I can picture her holding back the tears. “That’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Part of me wants to tell her that it’s not. That I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep up this act on a national campaign tour. There will be no downtime, no time for me to regroup and put on my mask. I’ll have to be on twenty-four/seven or risk the public seeing right through me. But the other part knows that my words would fall on deaf ears. I love my mother dearly, but she doesn’t want to hear how unhappy I am. She wants to hear that I’m happy, that she was right all those years to push me into marrying someone wealthy and influential. And here I am, one of a few ladies in this country who has the potential to be the next first lady. I’ve surpassed everything she’s ever wished for my life.

“Yes, Mother, it is wonderful,” I respond in the happiest tone manageable.

“I can’t believe it. My baby girl living in the White House. Did you ever imagine, Elizabeth?” She’s sniffling, and now I know she’s crying.

“No, Mother, I never imagined this.” And for once, I’m being completely honest with her.

“Elizabeth,” Cal shouts up at me from the bottom of the stairs.

“I’ll be down in a minute,” I tell him. Hurrying through my jewelry box, I put on my pearls before taking one last look in the mirror. My light-brown, medium-length hair is straight and pushed back behind my shoulders, my green eyes are bright and wide, and my slim figure is dressed in a navy fitted, cap-sleeved dress. Black heels polish off my look and add another four inches to my five-foot-seven-inch frame.

Today is the day Cal will tell the world that he plans to run for president. As if I didn’t have enough on my mind, he also thought it was a good idea to meet the gentleman from the private security firm that will be working for us. Ensuring I look pristine for the occasion, I walk out of the bedroom and downstairs to meet Cal.

When I reach the bottom, I make my way toward the kitchen until I see Cal. He’s facing me, talking to a man whose back is to me. His brown hair is short and neatly cut. He’s wearing a black suit that accentuates his rather broad shoulders and tailors in to show off his trim waist. He’s tall, taller than my husband who stands at six-foot-one.

Cal’s head peeks out to the side of the man’s shoulder and smiles at me when he sees me. “Ah, here she is.” Holding out his arm, he gestures for me to join him at his side. Returning his smile, I begin to walk toward him when the mystery man turns around and faces me. My step falters as I take in the sexiest man my eyes have ever seen. He has masculine features with his strong jaw and a straight nose that perfectly fits his face. His face is smooth with not a speck of stubble to be seen, but it’s his eyes that stop me in my tracks. They are the lightest shade of blue that match the crystal-clear water of the most secluded, tropical beaches. It feels like we stand there staring at each other for hours, but I’m not aware of it until I hear someone clearing their throat beside me.

“Is everything alright, dear?” Cal whispers harshly into my ear. I’m immediately brought to the here and now and completely mortified. Get a grip, Elizabeth, I chastise myself.

Hoping to play off my blatant perusal of this man, I say, “I’m sorry. You look strangely familiar and I thought I knew you from somewhere. It’s my mistake though.” I smile politely at him and snuggle in to my husband’s side.

“No worries, ma’am,” he replies in a deep, smooth tone. I swear to God he could melt panties with just the sound of his voice. But when he flashes a half smile to show off perfectly white teeth, those same panties are igniting in flames. Shit! What is wrong with me?

“Hello, I’m Elizabeth Fitzgerald.” I surprise myself when my words come out calm and not shaky. Holding out my hand, I wait for him to take it and shake.

“Alex Matthews,” he says as he grabs my hand. It’s large and rough and swallows mine whole. “Nice to meet you.” His clear blue eyes pierce through mine in a way that makes me feel naked. Not in a sexual way, but in a vulnerable, he-can-see-straight-through-me way. It makes me increasingly uncomfortable, so I break eye contact and remove my hand from his before resuming my spot next to Cal.

“Shall we have a seat then?” Cal asks, leading us into the formal sitting room toward the front of the house. The whole room is bright and done in shades of cream. The plush furniture is ornate with curved backs and dark wood trim accenting the couch and two matching chairs. An elegant coffee table sits in the middle. The intent with the colors and placement of the furniture was to make it feel cozy, intimate. But to me it looks stuffy and I’m afraid to sit on anything in this room.

After we’re all seated and beverages are offered, Cal jumps in to his series of questions. “So, tell us a little about your background. What were you doing before you started doing private security?”

“I was in the Army for about ten years before I was honorably discharged and started doing this immediately after.” Alex’s cool demeanor has me transfixed. He’s not bothered in the least, not showing an ounce of nerves or anything. His eye contact with Cal as he answers is strong and confident. Holy hell, he’s sexy.

“Nice, and what did you do in the Army?” Cal drapes his arm over the back of the couch, barely touching my shoulder. The contact makes me tense slightly for just a second, but I relax my shoulders quickly hoping Cal didn’t notice the change.

“I was in Special Forces, sir.” Again, the intense stare shows he’s not intimidated by my husband and I find it fascinating. Most people stumble all over themselves when speaking to a senator.

“What made you get out? Couldn’t handle it anymore?” There’s a slight air of condescension in his voice, which causes me to look at Cal from the corner of my eye.

“Cal,” I chastise quietly. His answer is to cut me a dry look, and I know I’ll hear about this later. I turn my focus back on Alex.

Seeming completely unfazed by Cal’s rude comment, Alex says calmly, “I got sick of deploying. Sick of seeing my friends die, sir. I’m sure you can relate. You’ve served, right?” His jaw tightens infinitesimally and he drills holes into my husband’s face. I suspect he knows the answer to his question. Cal doesn’t pick up on the slight change of his demeanor, but I do. He’s pissed and I don’t blame him.

“Uh, actually no, I haven’t.” Cal sits up in his seat probably to try to gain superiority over the situation. He knows just as well as I do that that question was meant to put him in his place.

“Oh, I see,” Alex says, clearly not surprised at all by Cal’s response. He hasn’t moved from his relaxed position in his chair. His ability to stay cool and calm is quite intriguing.