Page 62 of The Devoted Game

Trenton would, of course, dash to his Tesla Roadster, forgetting his beloved tee time.

He would arrive at the hospital, and no one would have the foggiest idea what he was talking about. He would call his wife’s cell phone and discover that she was fine, shopping with the children at the Summit. Then, bewildered and angry, he would return to his car, left where he always parked in the dimly lit basement garage. His emotions would prove far too distracting ... he wouldn’t see the danger until it was entirely too late.

Trenton had a date with destiny. As Martin’s grandmother would have said, the good doctor was in sore need of a humbling experience. For as much as Trenton would love to believe otherwise, he was not God. Yes, he made life-and-death decisions every day, except Sundays, but he most assuredly was not the Almighty. He needed to learn that ... He needed a simple lesson in how it felt to be vulnerable and helpless. His fame and wealth had long ago relegated those two emotions to a place so distantly out of sight and mind that he had completely forgotten they existed.

Tonight he would remember both well.

His lesson would prove a truly newsworthy challenge for McBride. The timing was, as usual, perfect, though Martin had been forced to move things up one full day. Martin had simply worked around tee time. The world would be watching. Would McBride be able to save Trenton in time to lead that rare, life-saving surgical procedure on the beloved Garrett Shelby? So much would be at stake. Those FBI rats would surely see just how badly they needed to have Agent McBride on their team once more.

The world needed heroes so very desperately.

Perhaps Martin and his dear Deirdre would have a special place in Heaven when the time came, for proving what a great man McBride was.

For now, it was time for Martin to do his part.

Time to show them all.

Eighteen

Ashland Drive, 7:00 p.m.

Vivian couldn’t take it any longer. She had to go home and shower. Not that having McBride’s scent indelibly imprinted on her was such a bad thing. But it had been immensely distracting all day, a constant reminder of the mistake she had allowed to happen. Diving right into work as if nothing had happened had been essential. Allowing Worth to pick up on even the slightest hint that she had crossed the line ... would be a total and complete disaster.

Work had allowed her to forget for a while, but waking up from the twenty-minute power nap she had stolen at her desk around six had snatched her right back to those minutes she wanted to pretend hadn’t happened. Her mind had first and foremost become aware of that subtle scent of his clinging to her skin and clothes.

Then and now heat flushed her face.

Rushing through her condo, she stripped off her jade suit and black blouse. By the time she reached her bedroom she was wriggling out of her felonious silk panties. She kicked them aside. And the shoes. She would never, ever be able to wear those shoes again without thinking of him ... and sex.

After setting the water’s temperature in her shower, she gathered a towel and pinned her hair up out of the way. There was no time for washing, drying, and styling that mane. This had to be a fastwash-away-McBride’s-scent and, if she was lucky, the memory of his touch.

Worth wanted her back at the office as quickly as possible. She felt that urgency herself. Not only did she not want to miss anything, she didn’t want to risk someone else taking her place. As selfish as that sounded, in her work world it was every man for himself. That she was a woman did not give her an edge, quite the contrary. She had to work harder.

She stepped beneath the hot spray of water and relished the relaxing feel of the heat. Her muscles instantly loosened. Rubbing the soap over her skin had her remembering the way McBride had touched her ... and the place he had found that prompted an orgasm in under ten seconds. Unbelievable.

Orgasms had never come easy to her. Hadn’t come at all in a really long time. She knew the ugliness with Nameless had left her damaged goods in the sex department. But she had worked diligently to overcome those awful memories. She’d had sex plenty of times since.

Not at first. Those initial two years afterward had been a situational trial and error. Lots of therapy and slow progress with physical intimacy. She had known that in order to get past the fear she would have to take it slow and get back into the game. Then she had gone a little overboard, mostly to prove she could do it. Lots of lovers her senior year in college. Despite the embarrassingly high number, she had always practiced safe sex. Maybe a little too safe. Not only had she insisted on the use of condoms ... she had stretched an invisible shield around her emotions.

Vivian’s hands stilled, the soap clutched against her abdomen. McBride had been right about the whole disappearing act. That was exactly what she had done. She never allowed herself to feel any of it. The decision wasn’t conscious ... more instinct than anything. Self-preservation instincts.

This was the first time she had admitted that to herself. Having sex with McBride was the first time she had permitted herself to drop herguard and get so lost in the moment that she had come, over and over again. And she had felt each one.

All those other times she hadn’t been fooling anyone but herself. No man had been able to give her the big “O” since before Nameless. The few she had experienced had been through focused masturbation, which didn’t require the presence of a man, just a little patience and concentration. She had begun to think that she would never feel anything that intense with the opposite sex again.

The possibility that normal sex could still be a part of her life was a surprise and a tremendous relief.

If one could call what she and McBride had shared in that stall “normal.”

That she had spent the last several minutes thinking intimate thoughts about him forced her to recognize just how much trouble she had gotten herself into.

She gave herself a good swift mental kick. This was more than just a mistake on a personal level. This was her career.

She had worked too hard to get here. Had big plans for her future.

No mistakes.

With a quick rinse, she hurried through the drying process and got dressed. When she returned to the office, she would do so with a new attitude. Back to business.