"Capital Offense" - читать интересную книгу автора (Antrim Kathleen)

NINE

The reception consisted of caviar and champagne, followed by a full-course meal featuring Maine lobsters flown in that day. Heads turned when Carolyn strolled into the main room with Mark. Her black cocktail dress, cut on the bias, accented shapely legs and her hair moved in soft waves about her shoulders. A waiter offered glasses of Veuve Clicquot, which they accepted.

“Our seats are at the head table.” Mark said.

Walking through the crowd with Mark felt natural, she thought, comfortable.

Mark introduced her to several bankers. He’d begun his professional life in investment banking. The fact that he’d given up such a lucrative career for the pursuit of justice, Carolyn long ago concluded, was a testament to his moral fiber. Attentive and polite, he made her feel valued and respected, things she hadn’t felt in a longtime.

“I want you to meet someone special.” Mark said as they finally approached the head table and found their seats.

“ Carolyn Alden Lane, may I introduce you to Mort Fields.”

Her heart raced. Mort Fields was the most important political player and money man in Missouri. He could make Warner’s career. “I’ve heard Warner speak of you. I can’t believe we haven’t met before.” Carolyn said as she extended her hand.

Living up to his reputation for charm, Mort kissed it. “And I’ve heard of you. Your record against the drug trade is making quite an impact.”

Carolyn smiled at the compliment. “Thank you.”

She couldn’t believe her good fortune as she sat down next to him. He was not taller than five-foot-six, with a slender build but his charisma was enormous. As the number-one power broker in Missouri, he was closely tied to the International Banking Fund, which possessed seemingly limitless monetary resources. It was alleged that he alone determined the distribution of the funds. Within fifteen minutes, she and Mort were trading jokes.

After the meal began, their discussion became more serious. “Have you heard about my latest venture?” Mort asked.

“The rumor is that you’re financing two computer geniuses, with some revolutionary technology, in a software company.” Carolyn said.

“Essentially that’s true. Interested in investing?”

“I didn’t know you were looking for investors.” Carolyn said as a waiter set her entrée in front of her. This was too good to be true.

“I wasn’t. I certainly don’t need them.” Mort picked up the seafood fork and plucked a piece of meat from the claw of his lobster. “But I may make an exception for someone I like. And I like you.”

Carolyn realized that he was flirting with her. “Well, thank you. I recognize an outstanding opportunity when I see one. And based on your business reputation, I’d be a fool to decline an offer to invest with you. But what would be expected in return?”

“Smart question. Could it be that the lady is a businesswoman on top of her other talents?”

She weighed her words with care. “I try. However, I find it’s men like you from whom I can learn a great deal.”

“Thank you. If you invest with me, I guarantee you’ll make money. And if Warner loses the election, you may need it.”

“Bite your tongue,” she teased, then grew serious. “But you still haven’t answered my question.”

“I might possibly need your legal talents. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours, figuratively speaking, of course.”

“Of course.” Carolyn said. “I’d love to see a proforma.” She knew the extra funds and Mort’s support would help Warner’s presidential dreams immensely. Besides, it was a chance at financial freedom, a chance to liberate herself from Edmund Lane. And a chance to secure her place in Warner’s life.

Mort raised his champagne glass. “I promise you won’t be disappointed by the business plan. Here’s to new partners.”

“To new partners.” Carolyn tilted her glass to his.

After dinner was finished and the speeches delivered, the real party began. Bartenders worked up a sweat shaking martinis and mixing drinks, while band music vibrated the floor.

Mort led Carolyn across the room to meet Stephan Thomas, then excused himself. Stephan was the lead counsel for Poultry Foods. Carolyn knew that he, too, was a contact worth cultivating. They talked about many issues, including their mutual frustration in dealing with state and federal regulators.

“Call me if you’re having difficulties. I may know of a way to attack the bureaucracy,” Carolyn said. “We might be able to help each other.”

Thomas grinned. “I think we could do business.”

By ten o’clock, Carolyn had solidified her prospects with Poultry Foods, Comco, Bounce Plastics, and other big industry donators. Usually this was Warner’s game, and she stayed in the background entertaining the spouses. Now, she was finally setting up the field for her own play. Warner couldn’t have done better, and she felt certain that he would be proud of her.

She sensed that she’d been welcomed into an exclusive club, a club where the payoff could be enormous. Mort Fields was a plum conquest. Besides investing in his new software company. Carolyn planned to approach him for a major contribution to their campaign.

Warner’s father would applaud her initiative. Yes, indeed. Edmund had taught her well. A cold chill passed over her. She’d expected to run into her father-in-law at the gala.

Carolyn’s gaze traveled over the room. She spotted Edmund in a discussion with Ron Spitz, Adam Miles, and the other senator from Missouri, Bill Rudly.

A local businessman, Ron Spitz was earning a reputation for publicly blaming Warner, Edmund, and Adam Miles, Edmund’s partner and best friend, for breaking the union that Ron once headed. Senator Rudly supported Ron and the union.

Not again, Carolyn thought, watching as the four men faced off. Voice raised, Adam waved his hands in the air. Ron’s face flamed crimson. Her body tense, Carolyn walked to the outer edge of the room, searching for Mark and steering clear of what could easily become a scene.

She found Mark at the bar. “Would you care to dance?”

“The honor would be mine.”

Mark took her hand and led her onto the dance floor. She caught sight of Edmund as he and Adam Miles departed. Relaxing, she gave herself to the moment as Mark spun her among the other dancing couples. Carolyn drank in his clean scent of soap and aftershave.

“Want another drink?” Mark asked.

Carolyn hesitated. She’d already had her limit. “Sure. Vodka seven.” Why not, she thought. She hadn’t relaxed in months.

“I’ll get the drinks and meet you back at the table.”

Carolyn took a few sips once he joined her, then carried the drink along as she visited other partygoers at another table. She returned with an empty glass. Mark offered to get her another. She accepted. Carolyn eventually realized her nose was numb. She felt giddy and light headed.

The lilting notes of “Blue Moon” filled the room.

“Let’s dance.” Carolyn took Mark’s hand and led him to the dance floor. She pressed her cheek to his as he pulled her neatly against his frame. His body felt solid and comforting. Carolyn sighed contentedly. The contact felt good.

When the song ended, she brushed her lips to his ear. “Thank you for the dance.”

They returned to the table, where they were left alone. Carolyn reached for her drink and knocked it all over the front of Mark’s pants.

“Damn it.” Carolyn said, picking up a napkin. “I’m so sorry.” Her face flamed at her clumsiness. She bent to wipe him off, gently rubbing the wet area. His hand covered hers. She stared for a moment at his fingers, then looked up. Their eyes met and held.

She felt the current of attraction arc between them.

“Maybe we should go.” she said.

She’d had too much to drink. Mark was married – out of bounds. She’d never cheated on Warner and she wasn’t starting now.

“Yeah, I guess. Where’re my keys?” he asked, his words slurred and his hands clumsy as he searched his pockets.

They got their coats, then stood just inside the lobby, waiting for the valet to bring the car around. Mark helped Carolyn into the passenger side. She dozed off as he drove to her home. At the house, he parked, and turned off the ignition.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Mark said.

“I’m sorry. How long have I been asleep?” Carolyn blinked to clear her vision. Definitely a headache tomorrow.

“Only a few minutes.”

Mark walked her to the door. Groggy, she fumbled in her purse for her keys, dropping them on the porch. Simultaneously they bent to retrieve the keys, cracking their heads together.

“Ouch,” he said while laughing.

“Are you okay?” Carolyn grabbed at the doorframe to steady herself.

He rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it was my fault.” A flush rose in her cheeks.

He traced the side of her face with his fingertips.

Carolyn closed her eyes at the gentle gesture. When she opened them, she noticed a small cut at his eyebrow. “You’re bleeding.” She reached out toward the cut.

Mark grasped her hand. “I’m fine.”

Carolyn turned away from him. “Let me get you some ice.”

She opened the door and led Mark to the kitchen. The house was dark and quiet.

Self-conscious, she moved awkwardly, taking too long to retrieve the ice cubes and place them in a towel. Carolyn couldn’t seem to escape the heat suffusing her entire body. Apprehensive, she turned back to Mark and applied the ice to his injury. Her hand trembled.

“How long have we known each other?”

“Stop it.” Carolyn laughed. “You’ll make me feel old.”

“You’ve become more beautiful over the years.” His gaze searched hers. “I didn’t think it was possible, but you’ve defied the laws of nature.”

She shook her head.

He leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips.

Involuntarily, Carolyn relaxed into him, drawn to his heat.

“Have you ever thought about me, about us?” he whispered against her lips.

Carolyn pushed herself out of his arms. “Mark, this is dangerous territory.”

Over the years, her feelings for him had grown. But what had they grown into? Love? She swallowed hard and relinquished the towel-wrapped ice to him.

“I’ll make some coffee.” Carolyn turned away, but Mark grasped her hand again, and stopped her.

“You feel it too.” Lightly he pulled her too him. “I need you, and you need me.”

She did feel it. Had felt it for long time. And it was a need, a need that had to be denied. Carolyn placed her hands on his chest. “We can’t.” Was it her or him? She didn’t know. Was she sending the wrong message? She hadn’t intended to mislead him.

His gaze intent, he studied her face.

She felt as if he were searching her soul.

Slowly, he lowered his mouth to hers.

Carolyn pulled back. “I can’t.” She could feel the warmth of his breath against her cheek. She couldn’t hurt Warner like this – fool – Warner doesn’t care.

Mark kissed her again, stifling her protests.

She found herself wrapping her arms around his neck. No, this was wrong. She didn’t want to hurt Mark’s wife. She didn’t want to hurt anybody. But she felt weak with such a staggering need. She couldn’t stop. Her body betrayed her.

She heard the ice cubes hit the floor.

Mark’s embrace tightened, his kisses urgent.

Her fingers were tangled in his hair. Why couldn’t Warner touch her, kiss her like this? Because Warner hates you, she thought. Loneliness and alcohol overpowered her resolve.

She hung on to Mark, starved for intimacy, starved for the reassurance that she deserved love.

The edge of the kitchen counter dug into her back. She hardly felt it. Mark leaned harder into her, pulling at her dress, his breathing rapid, his eyes glazed in excitement.

Her body screamed for fulfillment.

His hands ripped at her clothing. He lifted her off the ground. Then he was inside her. She clung to him

He moved slowly within her, all the while kissing her face and neck. “You feel so good,” he moaned. “So beautiful.”

She matched his rhythm.

The first tremors of his climax unraveled her pent-up desire. She arched into him as her body spun into a whirlpool of release. She moaned, equal parts amazement and disbelief over her own lack of control.

Mark set her down. “I love the way you smell.” He held her close, his face buried in her hair.

After a few moments, she pushed away from him.

He watched her as he straightened his clothes. “Are you all right?”

She didn’t meet his gaze. Where was her self-control? Guilt flooded her. Her behavior was inexcusable. Carolyn smoothed her dress and tried to regain her composure.

The hall clock chimed: 2:00 A.M. They both turned to the sound.

“I suppose I should get going.” he said.

Carolyn nodded.

“Come here,” Mark pulled her to him. “It’ll be allright.”

“What have we done?” she asked. “This shouldn’t have happened.” Her stomach tightened and she swallowed hard.

“I’m not sorry it happened.” he said. “But we need to think about this. And at the very least find better accommodations next time.”

She didn’t appreciate his humor or his assumption. “There’s nothing to think about. We both have too much to lose. Too many people would be hurt. It can’t happen again…” even though I love you, she almost added, with a depth of emotion that threatened to overcome her. And she did love him, but not the way she loved Warner. That realization, coupled with the thought of what they’d just done, made her nauseous. Alcohol tilted the room, and she struggled to maintain her composure.

“You’d better so.” She still couldn’t meet his gaze.

Mark lifted her face, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I’m not sorry this happened,” he repeated before heading down the hall.

She turned away, convinced it was the booze talking. He had a family to think of. The door clicked shut behind her. She couldn’t let this happen again. Her life belonged to Warner. It always would. She wasn’t willing to hurt others for a temporary fix.

A tremor of fear ran down her spine as she thought of the personal and professional ramifications of an affair. The specter of Edmund Lane loomed in her mind. If her father-in-law ever found out that she’d been unfaithful to his son, he’d destroy her.