His breath fanning her neck made her shiver. Or perhaps it was the knowledge she had to return to the safe house that was making her unsteady. Marin wasn’t exactly sure. She was, however, grateful he’d made this small gesture to ease her anxiety.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Marin, I promise—”
“Don’t!” She spun around to face him. “I’m not a five-year-old who needs you to make promises. Go do your job without worrying about me. Or Arabelle. Promises will only trip you up when you need to be on guard.”
He opened his mouth to say something before quickly closing it. His eyes were filled with wonder. Marin’s hands ached to touch him, so she did, gliding her palms along his suit jacket.
“Try not to mess up this suit or your beautiful dimples while you’re out tonight, though, okay?”
His chest tightened under her hands and suddenly his arms were around her, pressing her into his hard body while his mouth took hers in a searing kiss. One that was inevitable. Marin arched into him, savoring his scent, his taste, and the feel of his body. Griffin kissed her as if he possessed her, plundering her mouth like the rogue pirate she’d imagined him to be aboard the sailboat the night before. And Marin let him, succumbing to his invasion with an answering passion.
The sound of someone clearing their throat alerted them to the fact that they were not alone. Both were breathing hard when they stepped apart. Marin avoided looking at Griffin so he wouldn’t see the longing that was surely in her eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was distract him from his duties tonight.
“Excuse me, Chef,” Assistant Usher Peters said. “Your parents are on line three for you.”
Relief surged through her at the thought of talking to her mom and dad. Surely, she would feel more grounded once she did. She turned to say something to Griffin as she reached for the phone on the side table, but he had already slipped out of the room. Marin sank down on the daybed, embarrassed at the tears that began as soon as she heard her mother’s voice.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, Marin stepped into the kitchen of the residence expecting to see Lillie preparing the First Family’s dinner. Her aunt Harriett was there instead. She was mixing up a pot of macaroni and cheese from a box.
“Don’t judge.” She held up a hand sheepishly at Marin. “I’m a pediatrician. I ought to know better than to feed this crap to my granddaughter, but it’s been a very trying day.”
“There’s nothing wrong with comfort food. It’s actually one of my favorite food groups.”
Her godmother smiled at Marin’s attempt at humor. “I’m sorry that you got dragged into this, Marin. I hate that this is happening. There are days I wish we were all just back in New Orleans. Life was a lot easier then.”
“But not as rewarding.” Marin took the spoon from the First Lady and began preparing the macaroni and cheese for her. “You and the president are doing a lot of good for this country.”
“Yeah, like letting my son’s mother-in-law steal priceless artwork that belongs to the taxpayers.” Aunt Harriett sank down into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “And she brought a crazy killer with her, to boot.” She hesitated a moment. “Cal said you stabbed a man yesterday. That must have been horrible.”
Marin’s hand stilled mid-stir as the vision of her plunging the knife into the man’s back replayed in her mind. She shuddered violently. Aunt Harriett sprung up from her chair and wrapped her arms around Marin.
“It’s something I’m trying to forget,” Marin whispered. “But I’m not sure I ever will.”
“You did what you had to do to survive. And, no, you won’t ever forget because you have one of these.” Her aunt tapped Marin’s chest. “Not to mention a conscience. But I don’t want you ever blaming yourself for what happened.”
“He was going to shoot Griffin—Agent Keller.”
Aunt Harriett brushed back a piece of Marin’s hair. “That would have been a travesty for women everywhere. He’s just too beautiful a man not to be walking this earth.”
Marin resumed stirring the pasta while trying to hide the blush that was creeping up her neck. Griffin was a gorgeous man. She’d spent the better part of last night confirming that fact.
“He’s a good man, too,” her godmother continued. “He’ll make things right. You’ll see.”
She wasn’t sure if her aunt was talking about the return of Bita or something else, but since thinking about Griffin only led Marin’s heart in circles, she kept quiet. They worked in companionable silence, her aunt handing her the ingredients while Marin prepared Arabelle’s dinner. It was soothing to be doing something that was so natural. She felt loved and protected with her godmother by her side. After the week she’d had, Marin would never take moments like this one for granted again. She was glad for the opportunity to relax and regroup.
The tranquility was interrupted when one of the Secret Service agents stepped into the kitchen. “Chef, your ride is ready to take you back to the safe house.”
The First Lady slammed her palm onto the counter. “This is all so ridiculous,” she said through clenched teeth. “Tell me again why she can’t stay here?”
The agent flinched at the First Lady’s stern demand. “Director’s orders, ma’am.”
Marin diffused the situation by leaning in to kiss her godmother on the cheek. “It’s better this way. Everyone is safer. Give Arabelle a hug for me. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Her aunt hugged her tightly. “Agent Keller promised Arabelle that you’d be back here tomorrow. I’m trusting him to keep his word. Or I’ll shoot him myself. I don’t care how adorable those damn dimples of his are.”