Page 64 of The Charmer's Gambit
“Yes, and it would seem his young wife is an even bigger supporter.” His droll tone indicated his amusement at the word choice. “But it gets better.” Another photo popped up on my phone of a pregnant Bianca. “Your comment about him leavingyou alone for six months didn’t fit his profile, so that’s where I started, and guess who got knocked up around the time he stopped harassing you?”
Will let out a low whistle beside me. He had one arm slung across the back of the couch, but his focus was on the phone in my hand. Mark’s text had arrived just as we walked into our new suite.
“You think the baby is his?” I guessed.
“Affirmative.” His voice seemed to deepen as he continued. “This is Jenkins’s fourth wife in twenty years, and none of the previous women ever conceived. Birth control is entirely possible, but I’m betting he’s infertile. Plus, the timeline is right. That first photo is from a hotel security camera taken eight months ago, right about the time she got pregnant, while her husband was conveniently in another state.”
“And he doesn’t suspect anything?” Senator Jenkins wasn’t a dense man. He had to know.
Mark snorted. “He’s an arrogant son of a bitch who thinks the fourth time around is the charm, or maybe he just needed a wife who was twenty years younger. Who the hell knows, but he’s not about to question it. He’s too cocky for a philandering wife, which is probably why he didn’t care when she asked to stay in Madison after the holidays while pregnant. Jenkins had been in DC while Albertson had been privately tending to Bianca’s every, uh, need.” He paused to let that sink in before continuing.
“So that’s why he left you alone. He had other things to worry about, like a pregnant woman who could ruin his career. Which brings me to my second reason for believing he’s the father—he pushed for her to abort the child.”
I frowned. “How do you know that?”
“Physician records that were not as well scrubbed as he thought. His name might not be on the paper trail, but there’s afinancial link that suggests he paid for several consults. In any case, I’m confident he’s the father, and we’ll know for sure in a few weeks.”
“Okay.” I chewed my lower lip and met Will’s gaze. Just having him there put me at ease in a way I didn’t know was possible. Especially when discussing Ryan. My emotional response seemed to dwindle with each new threatening message. The last one came in two hours ago, and I’d all but ignored it. Every time I deleted one of Ryan’s messages, I felt empowered and gained a sliver of control back. The few times his words kicked me in the stomach, I took one look at Will and felt my resolve strengthen again. The man’s confidence radiated from him, surrounding me with a comfort I’d not felt in years.
I cleared my throat. “Okay,” I repeated. “So that explains his absence, but why is he bothering me again?”
“Because he needs a wife.” Mark’s flat answer sent a chill down my spine. “His campaign managers are riding him hard about it, too, hence the desperate feel to his actions. He’s also not thrilled that his favorite possession is acting out by fucking a prime competitor.”
“Mark!” I couldn’t believe he’d just said that. Except yeah, actually, I could. The man was not one to mince words. But still . . . “Don’t . . . I don’t . . . Just . . .” My face was on fire as I shook my head, unable to say anything back to that. Because wow. Just. Wow.
“So what are you suggesting?” Will asked, speaking for the first time. His tone lacked his usual amusement and held an edge to it that I wasn’t sure I liked. The hairs on my arms danced in response.Danger. He shifted his arm to my shoulders and pulled me closer to place a kiss on my neck that dispelled some of the tension tightening my limbs.
“I’m not suggesting anything yet, Mershano. His affair with Bianca is enough to destroy his political career, but Albertson isstill vastly connected. It’s his other business connections that I want to explore a bit more before I give Rachel her options.”
Will ran his hand up and down my arm. “Mafia ties?” he asked.
“Something like that,” he answered vaguely. “I’ll be in touch as I learn more, Rach.”
I was still trying to swallow the mafia comment, so all I managed was a “?’Kay” in reply.
“Oh, and Mershano? Hernandez is a good hire, but don’t piss him off. He throws a mean left hook.” Mark hung up without a formal goodbye. Will’s responding chuckle confused me almost as much as the man on the phone did.
“Who’s Hernandez?”
“One of the members of our security detail in France. He’s former black ops, which I suspect is what your friend is involved with because no way in hell that man is FBI.”
As I already suspected the latter, I focused on the former. “We have a security detail?” He never mentioned anything about hiring anyone to watch us, nor had I noticed them.
“Yes, and Rick Hernandez is the one I hired to organize it. He has two men in the hotel whom I haven’t met yet but plan to this evening.”
“And they’re what? Going to follow us to our meeting?”
“Yes, and wherever else we go while in Europe.”
“That’s a bit much, isn’t it?” I understood his concern, but bodyguards accompanying us to a bunch of boring meetings felt extravagant. Ryan was obsessive, not stupid. He would never strike during a business negotiation.
“Your safety means everything to me, Rachel.” He grasped my chin and forced my gaze to his. “I won’t let that asshole touch you ever again. Do you understand?”
A shiver tickled the back of my neck.So intense. “And what happens after?”
“After?” he repeated. “After what?”
“After we leave Europe.” It was something I hadn’t wanted to think about these last three days, but I would eventually have to return to Chicago. To work, to my apartment, to Ryan . . .
