Her eyes narrowed. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” He moved to her side but gathered her close. “I remember when we first met. Samantha and Blake had just married, and we were both invited to their reception in Europe. I think you flirted with every man there.”

“I did?”

“Except me. You avoided me like the black plague. I knew then…”

“You knew what?”

He kissed her nose, sensing she was reading something inappropriate into his words. “I knew we’d match. No two people could repel that much and not be so very good together.”

Her smile fell. “You’re full of shit. You hated me back then.”

“Hate? I never hated anything about you. You sparked my curiosity, made me want… But hate was never an adjective to describe my feelings toward you.”

“Then why did you argue with everything I said?”

He played with her hip and pulled the covers over them. “You should see the spark in your eyes when someone gets under your skin. The passion when you know you’re right and someone begs to differ. You, my little fireball, are fresh air on a stale day. I fear for anyone who truly stands in the way of you getting what you want.”

Eliza lifted her knee high on his hip. “Are you telling me you argued with me just to get a rise out of me?”

He cocked his head to the side and remained silent.

She let loose a playful fist on his chest. “You’re awful.”

“C’mon. You can’t say you didn’t enjoy it.”

“I didn’t.”

“Liar.”

She attempted to keep a straight face and failed. Her lips slid into an infectious grin as she giggled.

“Who’s the liar now?”

“I’ll take it to the grave,” she told him.

And as quick as her words, his mind shot to a vision of her still and lifeless. He sat motionless and knew his grin faded. She noticed his unease but didn’t call attention to it. Instead, she burrowed her head into his chest.

“We did the right thing tonight… Right?” she finally asked.

He brushed the back of her hair with his hand. God, he hoped so. “We did.”

Yet, as she slipped into slumber and he lay awake, he wasn’t so sure.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Eliza languished around the house for two full days following the Hollywood dinner. The news of her past didn’t stop with the local broadcasts. It went national. Eliza’s cell phone rang continuously with offers for exclusive interviews—all of which she ignored.

The magnitude of what she’d done, by telling the world, drove home when Jay arrived early Tuesday morning with an armful of mail. “This is for you,” he said as he dropped dozens of letters on the kitchen counter.

“For me?” She eyed the mail with a frown.

Jay’s magnetic smile lit his face. “The sympathetic public has a big soft spot for you and your plight. The mail started arriving at the local campaign office, and I’m told there is more at the headquarters in Sacramento and San Francisco.”

Eliza picked an envelope at random and tore it open. Inside was a handwritten letter from a woman who lived in the desert community of Lancaster. She applauded Eliza’s courage to come forward and then went on to ask if there was a way she could get in touch with her son who also entered the witness protection program years ago. Not knowing if he was dead or alive killed a small piece of her spirit. Anything Eliza could do to help would be appreciated.

“What does it say?” Carter scooted closer and read the mail over her shoulder. “Oh, wow.”

“Yeah.”

She opened another, this one from a father who’d lost his wife to a drive-by shooting. He told her how he wished more people would report crimes so criminals could be taken off the streets. Apparently, the authorities never caught his wife’s murderer.

“I took the liberty of opening up an e-mail address under your name. Carter’s box filled up overnight,” Jay told them.

“What am I supposed to do with these?”

Carter shrugged his shoulders. “Ignore them, write them back. What do you want to do with them?”

She didn’t know.

“While you figure that out, I have other news to share.” Jay took the liberty of pouring himself a cup of coffee. He’d obviously spent a lot of time in Carter’s home and knew where everything was. “Your standings in the polls shot up over the weekend. Not only did your marriage add to the percentage of voters checking your name, but Eliza’s compassion swayed the swing votes too. If there was ever a political power couple, it’s the two of you.”

“Political power couple? I didn’t see that coming,” Eliza said.

Carter patted her on the back. “If I’m going to be a political anything, I’m going to have to get back to work.”

Apparently, the honeymoon was over. “You’re such a slacker,” she teased.

“Are you going to be okay here?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. I have bodyguards and Zod. I was thinking of going in to Alliance, but I might put that off for a few days. See what I can do with these letters.”

“Alliance? Doesn’t Gwen have that covered?”

“Gwen still has a lot to learn.”

Carter frowned.

“What?”

He glanced over to Jay and said, “Can you excuse us for a minute?”

Jay took the hint and walked out of the room with his coffee.

“What’s on your mind, Hollywood?”

“It’s Alliance. Sam would understand if you needed to step back from that for awhile.”

“What do you mean?”

“Step back…take some time off.”

“I’ve already taken almost two weeks.” What was he getting at? Did he want her to be a housewife? That was so not going to happen.

He ran a hand through his sandy blond hair and struggled with his next words. “Every time you leave the house is risky. We don’t know what Sanchez is going to do.”

“So, I’m supposed to do what exactly? Stay here as a prisoner?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s you who’s cornered ‘ridiculous.’ If secluding myself from the world was the only option, I wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble to begin with.” Her skin started to heat and her temper flared. “I’m not hiding, Carter.”

“Not hide. Just move with caution.”