Page 57 of Love Me Knot

“Great,” Chelsea cheers. “Why don’t we exchange contact information.”

“Chelsea is leading Harding inside,” Devil updates over the radio.

Commander O’Reilly takes over the play-by-play from there, monitoring the cameras. “She’s stopping by the planted camera flower and picking it up. Shit. Harding just took it from Chelsea’s hand. Wait a minute. The bastard only tucked it above Chelsea’s ear.”

That means she’s leading him somewhere private. I must look poised to run as Devil breaks in again. “Stand down, Pin.”

“I’ve still got that needle,” Bandaid teases.

“Alright. Shut up. All of you,” I growl.

“Hey, calm down. We’re still acting, remember? The man’s security or his aide could walk through here at any second.”

Dammit, he’s right. I relax my stance but focus only on the radio in my ear.

“Have you enjoyed the convention?” Chelsea asks.

“Sadly, I didn’t arrive early enough to attend today, and I’ll need to leave early in the morning.”

“That’s too bad, but then most of the people I would hope for you to meet are here tonight,” she soothes.

“You know, Mrs. Bennett. You’re a remarkable woman to fight for your husband this way.”

Leather creaks, telling me Chelsea now sits on the stiff tuxedo sofa in the office. I can picture her shrugging shoulders based on the sound of her voice. “Jackson is a good man, but I’m doing this for a friend. He was killed when a military contractor fucked up a mission for personal gain. Sorry. Please excuse my language.”

Harding laughs. “Please. I hear worse during congressional hearings.”

Leather creaks again, and Harding’s voice is much closer to the mic now. “Being a SEAL, your husband is probably away a lot.”

“It’s true. It’s lonely being a hero’s wife. On the plus side, I have loads of time to devote to worthy causes.”

“And what about you?” Harding murmurs. “What do you do for you?”

Hell fucking damn. The woman is an artist. Chelsea has Harding eating out of the palm of her hand. I’ve never witnessed more expert manipulation. I can practically see the man inching his way closer.

“Well, I have met some wonderful, fascinating people over the years,” she answers.

“Am I included in that count?”

Chelsea purrs, her voice fawning and breathy. “Most certainly.”

Her fan-girl act is way too effective. Harding is totally sucked in and ready to make a move of his own. Leather creaks, fabric rustles, and my imagination runs wild. I can just see the bastard taking advantage of Chelsea’s admiration and sliding his hand up her leg.

Before I realize it, I’m on the move, but no one dares break character to call me back, at least in person. I pull the radio from my ear and toss it to the nearest SEAL as I storm through the house.

I pause at the office door, needing a calming breath. Harding is sitting too close with his hand on Chelsea’s bare knee. The slit in her dress has opened up to her hip, and that asshole’s fingers begin crawling northward. I see red, and I’m not talking about the damned dress.

I’m tempted to kill the man, so I force several calming breaths in. My rational brain kicks in, and I back up a few silent steps, calling out, “Chelsea? Some of our guests are ready to head out. Where are you?”

I step loudly toward the office, noting the sounds of two people springing apart. “There you are,” I say with a smile.

“Jackson, yes,” Chelsea stammers, mimicking a woman caught cheating and is trying to appear innocent. “My phone is upstairs, but I’m sure…” Chelsea turns and searches the desk, bending over the surface toward the opposite side for the notepad and pen. The move is on purpose but only for Harding’s sake. That doesn’t mean I’m not fantasizing about having her bent over like this later.

She scribbles down a phone number and email address, handing the note to the congressman. “Please reach out to me_us_if there’s anything we can do to help in addition to financial support.”

Harding accepts the note with a slight bow. “Very much looking forward to it.”

I’m on the verge again, so I bite my tongue and shepherd the pair back to the main party area. One fake couple approaches to say their goodbyes and several others follow. Harding takes the hint and says, “I guess I should head out as well. We have an early flight tomorrow.”

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