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White Diamonds Kiss of Death Contest Award!
(Honorable Mention) A suspense that will take you
all the way to the
White House. |
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White Heat
Sandra Rutledge is a woman who has never taken risks.
Until, one fateful night in the secluded mountains
of Pennsylvania, she stumbles upon a fortune in
diamonds. Even more shocking is the man who is
carrying those diamonds: handsome, celebrated Senator
Wyatt Randolph. A government conspirace has sent him
deep into hiding...and deeper still into the inviting safety
of Sandra's tender embrace...
White Lies
Soon, a single night of passion turns two strangers
into lovers. But even as Wyatt awakens Sandra's most
intimate desires, he dares to hide one more secret. For it
wasn't fate that has brought them together. Now, Wyatt
alone holds the key to a mystery in Sandra's past as
well---a mystery that binds them irresistibly, irrevocably
together in fear...and in love.
White Diamonds
White Diamonds Excerpt
Wyatt watched her. He'd been doing that since they were forced together in the close confines of motel rooms. This morning was different. This was the morning after she told him she was in love with him. This was the first day of their lives together. Yesterday he'd made love to her for the first time. And through the night they'd made love again. He didn't seem to be able to get enough of her. He didn't think he ever would. Sandra Rutledge. He rolled her name around in his mind. If someone had told him that Chip's little package would lead to the woman of his dreams he wouldn't have believed them. He was too used to women who wanted something from him. Sandra had asked for nothing. All she'd done was help him, watch his back and be loyal to him. He couldn't ask for a better partner.
Bending forward he kissed her on the side of the head. She stirred reaching for him. He cradled her close, observing the contrast of their skin tones and wondering what the mix would produce in their future children.
***
Anise Kingsley had been housekeeper at the guest house through five administrations. She was the sole of discretion, made a point of learning the cultures of every foreign dignitary who'd slept within the covered walls and Everett Horton didn't know how the country would run without people like her.
"Good morning, Mrs. Kingsley," Everett spoke into the receiver from his bedroom.
"Good morning, sir."
"Are they awake yet?"
"No sir. I think they had a very late night."
"I have a busy schedule. I need to talk to them by noon. Do you think they'll be up by then." He knew the answer. Mrs. Kingsley would have them dressed and polished as if they were children and they'd never know they'd been manipulated. Everett wished he had her skills.
"I'll take them some tea, sir."
"Thank you, Mrs. Kingsley."
She replaced the receiver and added a small flower vase with a single rose in it. She smiled. Lovers, she thought. Few of them every spent the night here. Usually the place was filled with feuding nationals, each refusing to budge on his particular point and the president in the middle, acting as mediator. She'd seen many presidents, but found this new one more able to get some work done than the other four she'd met.
With the tray in hand, she climbed the wide staircase and set it on the mahogany server outside the master suite. Gently she knocked on the door.
Sandra climbed closer to Wyatt, fear in her eyes. He tightened is arms about her. "Come in," he said.
A small woman in her fifties opened the door and brought a tray to the bed.
"Good morning," she said. "Glad to see you're awake." Her face held a smile that twinkled in her eyes. Sandra liked her. "I'm Mrs. Kingsley, the housekeeper. I've brought your breakfast."
She moved to set the bed tray down. Sandra and Wyatt shifted toward each other. Sandra grabbed the sheet she'd nearly let go of when she moved. When they were sitting up against the pillows, she set the silver tray on the bed between them.
"Clothes have been provided for you in the closet and drawers," she said without censure. "If there's anything you need just call me." She indicated the phone next to the bed. "It has a code for housekeeper. The president has to go back to Washington this afternoon. He'd like to see you at noon."
She turned to leave.
"Mrs. Kingsley?" Sandra stopped her. "President? Clothes? Where are we?"
The older woman stood up to her full height which couldn't be any taller than five feet. The gesture was more pride than haughtiness.
"You're in the guest house, Ms. Rutledge. At Camp David."
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