Crash and Burn

The lovely, poised woman stood at the back of the packed room, listening attentively with a calm half-smile and not a trace of the visceral hatred she felt for the speaker. She knew that in a couple of hours, after shaking hands and kissing cheeks, making nice with the swarms of wealthy attendees in the room, she would go home with the object of her hatred.

She would compliment him, flatter him, bring him a nightcap, and drive him to a thundering sexual release, which was the way he liked to end all these evenings.

He would never know that in her mind, she was disemboweling him with a jagged hunting knife and laughing as his guts spilled all over the satin sheets that he preferred.

She smiled as she politely joined the applause that rolled through the room right on cue as the charmingly handsome speaker paused. Her face showed none of the contempt she felt for the fawning, enthusiastic followers who eagerly fed the ego of the man on stage. She was smooth and charming and so beautiful that appreciative male eyes followed her every move, just as carefully masked claws lurked in the female eyes that fell on her. Every woman in the room would have traded places with her in a second, and every one of them would have secretly applauded her downfall if only they could see it happen. Their obvious jealousy made her even more contemptuous of them since she knew that they had no idea what the reality was of the life she lived. They would never know. But no matter. Her plans were laid, and she had no intention of living in these circumstances forever.

"Renata, darling, you look gorgeous, as always. How did that lucky man win you?" The enormously rich oil tycoon kissed her hand and she laughed lightly at him.

"Why, Drake, you know perfectly well that he captured my heart from the very first time we met. I'm quite sure that you've heard him tell the story."

The man shook his head ruefully and said, "I've certainly heard it, but I've never wanted to believe it. I prefer to think it was something far beyond his looks and charm. Perhaps all the stars in the heavens were aligned in an order that gifted him with you. Something celestial that gave him an advantage that none of the rest of us could ever achieve."

Renata laughed lightly at him and said, "You're so silly, darling. You have your own beautiful Ashleigh, after all."

"Did I hear my name?" The gently lovely but unremarkable Ashleigh joined them, champagne in hand.

Renata gave her a genuine smile. Ashleigh was one of the few people in the room who was a real human being, without the hidden motives and artifice that the others wore as closely as they wore their skin. She fit into this crowd the way a kitten would fit in with a room full of snakes. Thankfully, her husband, Drake, didn't inflict this kind of evening on her very often. He always said he could only stand a small dose of high flying society before he had to get back to grass and dirt and oil wells. Renata had a fondness for Ashleigh, though she knew the quiet woman would be horrified if she ever saw the real Renata. Of course, the real Renata would never be clearly seen by the people in the room here tonight.

Renata's skin prickled as she sensed her husband coming near, working his way through the congratulations and flattering words of the people he had addressed from the podium. She felt the familiar cold chill as he laid his hand on the small of her back and bent to kiss her cheek, but her face never betrayed her feelings. She gave him a brilliant smile and let him hear the words he could never get enough of.

"Your speech was perfect, darling. Who could resist you? Every time you speak, the support for you grows by leaps and bounds." She laid her hand in his as she spoke, and he raised it to his lips as he soaked in the praise.

"Thank you, my dear. I hope your assessment is right. Now, if they just show their support by adding to the funds, I'll be satisfied."

Renata laughed. "You know they will. They're more than eager to open their checkbooks."

"Your lips to God's ears, baby. There's George Russell; I need to speak with him. Enjoy the buffet, darling." And he was gone, leaving his wife feeling relieved.

Renata wandered through the crowd, bestowing words here and there as she went and leaving each male she talked to aching to be with her just once. She let one hopelessly besotted English lord kiss her hand and then favored him with her brilliant smile before she moved on, setting down her barely touched glass of champagne and moving over to the terrace, open to the warm night and displaying a breathtaking view of the city at night. She accepted a fresh glass from a waiter and sipped it as she breathed deeply of the night air. Too soon, her presence on the terrace was discovered and it became too crowded for her there. She excused herself and drifted through the room to select a small plateful of delicacies from the buffet, nibbling at caviar and creme fraiche tartlets and lobster toasts along with some fresh melon wrapped in prosciutto. Her head was beginning to ache, and she hoped that eating a few bites would help.

When the hour grew late enough, Renata moved smoothly to the side of her husband. She slipped her arm through his and kissed his cheek, whispering in his ear, "Let's get out of here, darling. I need you all to myself."

He began to protest, but the sultry look she gave him stopped his words. He began to make his farewells and in only a few minutes, they were in the elevator, accompanied by the two bodyguards who trailed the candidate everywhere he went. The car was waiting at the door and they slid into the back and the welcome quiet with a soft sigh from Renata. The quiet didn't last long as her husband began to recap the night. He poured them each a glass of champagne as he talked, congratulating himself on the success of his earlier speech. Renata listened with half her attention, having heard it all before. When they reached their building and made their way to the elevator, she sighed with relief again. Her job was nearly done.

The doors opened into the beautiful penthouse suite, and once the bodyguards did a sweep, they were excused for the night. Renata kicked off her shoes and carried them to the bedroom. She needed to move around a little without a crowd, so she went to the kitchen and took a bottle of sparkling water from the massive refrigerator. She looked around the gorgeous kitchen and shook her head as she thought of how little use it got. It was always stocked with fruit, salads, and pretty little trays of appetizers and finger sandwiches, courtesy of the housekeeper. They took most of their dinners out at restaurants or various events. Renata couldn't remember the last time she had cooked anything herself. Once upon a time, she had enjoyed cooking, but those days were long gone. She carried her water and a delicate crystal glass back to the bedroom where her husband was pulling off his jacket and tie.

Renata crossed the room to him and turned. "Unzip me, darling."

Logan Wakefield, candidate for President of the United States, slowly pulled down her zipper and traced her spine with his finger as she slipped the dress down off her shoulders. He picked it up after she stepped out of it and held it to his face, breathing in her scent. It was followed by her silky slip, and she stood in black lace and thigh high stockings. Her husband stood, mesmerized, as she walked gracefully across the room to pour herself some water. He drank in the sight of her, all tawny skin and dark haired perfection.

Renata Wakefield's parents could trace their lineage back to Portuguese nobility; their family records were maintained by the private institute that had taken over the work when the Council of Nobility in Portugal was disbanded. He had met her at an equestrian event five years before; she was a skilled rider and competed in dressage events, winning regularly. She had been born in the U.S. but had spent a lot of time between the United States and Portugal and was fluent in Portuguese.

The moment Logan had seen her, he knew he had to make her his. He set out to charm her, never knowing that she intended to take him up on it for reasons of her own. She led him into exactly the place she wanted him, and given his enormous ego, it wasn't hard to convince him that he, over all the other men who were after her, was able to win her heart. He was endlessly, constantly obsessed with her body and the things she did to him in bed. She had also proven to be invaluable as a candidate's wife. The women, of course, hated her, but they loved him, and he wasn't overly concerned with the feelings of the women. The men were the important ones—rich, powerful men who could help advance him in his quest and add the funds he needed to run the race.

Renata sipped her water, her eyes on him the whole time. She licked a drop of water from her upper lip and Logan was instantly hard. When she reached up and pulled the clip from her hair, letting it cascade down over her shoulders, he actually gave a little groan. Renata walked over to him and jerked his pants open, shoving them down over his hips. He stepped out of them and reached for his underwear, but Renata pushed him backward, forcing him to sit down hard on the bench that stood against the wall. She stepped back and raised one leg to set her foot on his knee. He was breathing hard and his eyes were dark with desire. Renata leaned forward and slowly rolled her stocking down her leg, letting Logan pull it off her foot. When she put the other foot up, Logan reached for her stocking, but she slapped his hand and leveled a warning look at him. He sat back, frustrated, and watched her roll down the other stocking.

Renata took a couple of steps backward and said, "Get up."

Logan rose on unsteady knees and Renata stepped forward and yanked his shorts down to release his rock hard erection. She took it in her hand and squeezed, making him gasp as she stroked and pulled at him. He reached for her, moving quickly, and jerked her against him, one hand holding her against him and the other pulling at her wispy lace bra. He ripped it off her and dropped it onto the floor, squeezing her breast and pinching her nipple hard. Renata wanted to feel nothing, but her treacherous body betrayed her. Her nipples were hard, and her panties were wet. He ripped them off and thrust his hand between her thighs with a grunt of satisfaction as he felt how wet she was.

Renata desperately needed to take control. She shoved him toward the bed and, with a hard push, knocked him down and followed him onto the bed. She straddled him and shoved herself down, burying him deep inside her swollen, tight depths. She rode him hard and he mauled her breasts as she rose and fell against him. He pulled her down and bit one nipple, making her cry out. She rode him harder, but he wouldn't let her win. In a sudden move, he flipped her over on her back and drove into her as hard as he could. Renata fought against the feelings that were sweeping over her, but it was no use. He was driving her to an orgasm yet again, one she didn't want. He grunted with each thrust, their bodies slapping together, slick with sweat. Tears ran down Renata's face when she was rocked with hard spasms of the climax she fought so fiercely. A few thrusts later, Logan emptied himself into her with long shudders. He lay heavily on her, breathing hard, and the tears slowly dried on her face.

Finally, Logan rolled off her. "God, baby, that was so good. I think I need to raid the refrigerator."

After he left the room, Renata slowly rolled over and climbed off the bed. She went directly to the shower, letting the hot water blast over her. It warmed her flesh, but inside, she was still cold. She scrubbed herself until her skin was red and then wearily shut the water off. Wrapping herself in her soft, fleecy robe, she stopped to pick up her tattered lingerie and toss it in the trash. She padded out to the kitchen and made a cup of hot tea. The remains of the sandwich Logan had made for himself were scattered on the island and she ignored them. She walked silently down the hall with her tea to find her husband in his office, typing away at his computer.

She watched him from the doorway until he realized she was there.

He gave her a brief look and waved his hand. "You can go on to bed. I'm going to be working here for a while."

"Good night," Renata said, turning and walking away. He didn't bother to answer. Renata selected a book from the shelves in the library and took it to bed with her. She pulled off the coverlet they had fucked on and left it in a pile in a corner of the room. She lit a candle to dispel his scent and piled all the pillows up on her side of the bed, knowing he wouldn't make another appearance there that night. At long last, she was able to relax with her book and her tea.

Renata tried to get to sleep without thinking any further about the life she was living but, as usual, she couldn't pull it off. Sometimes every nerve in her body screamed for her to put an end to it, but she had worked too damn hard to desert her plan now. She had to remind herself that these years of craziness would be well rewarded once the plan was carried out to its end.

She thought of her father and the way he had shrunken into himself before the end came for him. He had always been her strong, funny, and heroic papa until the bad days had come. He had never deserved what had happened and his loss had destroyed her mother. She was still living, but she was a pale ghost of the woman she had been. It broke Renata's heart anew every time she saw her beloved mama. She had a brother somewhere, but he had disappeared before she had married Logan and she had never seen him again.

Renata got up from the bed and went to pour herself a glass of brandy, recognizing that she had barely touched the champagne all evening and she was going to need something to ease her to sleep. She stood at the terrace windows sipping it, gazing out at the lights of the city. Finally, her thoughts quieted, and she knew she would sleep for the rest of the night.

Renata drifted slowly up from sleep, where she had been dreaming of being a child playing with her big brother while their parents looked on and laughed. It was sunny on the terrace where they played, and there was a big, furry dog romping after the ball they threw for him. There was a brilliant blue pool and her brother jumped in, swimming like a fish and daring her to follow him in.

"Renata, you stay here in the shallow end," her papa directed, calling to her brother, "Tomas, stop teasing her; you know she cannot swim as well as you can."

"All right, Papa, but how is she going to learn?"

"I can do it, Papa!" Renata protested.

But he shook his head firmly and said, "No. Your swim instructor will be here later, and you will not go into the deep end without her."

Renata pouted but obeyed. An unusual clatter came from inside the house and they all looked that way, wondering what the fuss was. A moment later, Renata realized that the noise wasn't part of her dream, it was happening right there in the penthouse. Reality rushed back over her and she rubbed the dream from her eyes as she rubbed the sleep away. Reluctantly, she got out of bed and pulled her robe on before she opened the door and walked toward the kitchen. As she expected, Logan was in there, noisily mixing a smoothie in the blender, half a bagel popping up in the toaster. He looked as fresh as if he'd slept for many hours, though Renata knew he rarely slept more than four or five hours.

"Oh, did I wake you?" Logan asked. "Sorry, but I've got to get going. Fix that bagel for me, will you? I have a lot going on today. And so do you, as a matter of fact. Don't forget the meeting with the historical museum board. It's on your calendar. And the fundraiser for the children's hospital is this afternoon. I'll make a brief appearance, and then it's all yours. Dinner is at Le Chat tonight with George Russell and his latest hottie, at eight. Oh, and remind Daria to pick up the dry cleaning; we'll both be needing it. If you have some time, why don't you buy a couple of new dresses? The one you wore last night you've worn to at least one other event. Find something in a sapphire blue. I like you in blue."

Renata listened while she spread cream cheese on his bagel, topped it with thin slices of smoked salmon, and finished it with fresh ground black pepper. Logan gulped down his smoothie between bites of the bagel and washed the last bite down with strong, black coffee and then he was gone. Renata took a deep breath and poured herself a cup of coffee. She made a face and poured a generous portion of cream into the bitter brew. No wonder he was so wide awake in the morning. She poured out the last half of the cup and brewed some to suit herself. With a shrug, she popped the other half of his bagel into the toaster and slathered it with cream cheese before she went to the terrace with her breakfast and switched on the morning news on her way. It was a little cool to sit outside, but she did it anyway, filling her lungs with the morning air and watching the news from there as she enjoyed her solitary time.

After she was finished with her bagel and coffee, Renata called her personal shopper and instructed her to find a couple of new gowns, asking her to avoid blue. She told her to choose a dress for herself and add it to the bill and to send the rest up to the penthouse. As she hung up the phone, she was pleased to think that her personal shopper, Maggie, truly loved working for her. It was a small thing she could do in her present life, treating the people who worked for her well, and she got a great deal of satisfaction out of it. Logan couldn't care less how much she spent, as long as she looked good when she was seen, and she always looked fabulous. She checked that task off her schedule for the day and looked over the rest. She decided to send her office assistant to the museum board meeting. She knew the chairman of the board was not going to be there that day, so the meeting wouldn't consist of anything of importance. She could tell Logan that she'd needed the time for an appointment at the spa. The fundraiser for the children's hospital was important to her and she would give it her full attention. Daria didn't need reminding to pick up the dry cleaning; she always did it on her way to the penthouse. So, although Logan had made it sound like she had a hectic day ahead of her, she was actually going to have some rare free time.

Renata dressed in sneakers and sweats and went down a few floors to the fully equipped gym. Her personal trainer, Bree, put her through her paces and nodded her approval of the condition Renata was in. Once Renata had brought her there to work for her, the woman had picked up several wealthy female clients who lived in the building and longed to look like Renata. Bree was now making a substantial living and was another employee who was staunchly loyal to Renata. Logan would no doubt be scornful of the network of people who had become staunchly loyal to his wife, but she knew the value of the relationships she had built. Eventually, she would be likely to need all of them.

Renata finished her workout and talked with her trainer for a little while, catching up on Bree's family news; she had twin boys who never failed to find new and crazy exploits to get into. Her husband was a freelance journalist and had made an important name for himself. Bree had introduced him to Renata, and he had become another valued and loyal friend. Jackson Prentiss might someday prove to be someone whom Renata needed very much.

When Renata went back up to the penthouse, Daria had arrived, bringing Logan's treasured dry cleaning with her. Renata gave her a quick hug and asked her about her grandchildren, the most treasured little people in Daria's life. Renata could count on Daria to make sure that Logan's favorite treats were always stocked and fresh. When they had hired the woman as housekeeper, Logan had instructed her as to what foods, delicacies, and snacks he expected to always have in the kitchen, and he told her in no uncertain terms that each morning, he expected her to throw away everything that was left from the day before and replace it all with fresh supplies. Renata asked Daria to take it all home with her rather than throw it away and therefore, Daria's family always had an array of some of the finest delicacies the city had to offer.

Daria handed Renata the cup of tea she'd brewed exactly in time for Renata to return from her workout. She drank the tea while she spoke to her mother on the phone. When she hung up, she had tears in her eyes, as usual. She set the empty cup in the sink and went to shower and dress for her day. Renata emerged, wearing a dark-colored sweater with matching slacks, her hair pulled back and wound into a smooth knot. She had large, dark sunglasses and a hat to make her anonymous to the casual passer-by.

"Should I call your driver?" Daria asked.

"No, I'm going to take a cab," Renata answered. "I'll catch up with my driver before I go to the children's hospital."

Daria frowned fretfully. "I don't like you to take those public taxis. You're safer with your own driver."

Renata laughed and gave her a hug. "Don't you worry. I'll only be out on my own in the big bad world for a couple of hours. And nobody will have any idea who I am."

"Just be careful."

"Always." Renata gave her housekeeper a little wink. "You kiss those babies for me."

Daria grinned in spite of her worries. "I'll do that."

"I'll see you tomorrow," Renata said as she left the penthouse. Once she was on the sidewalk, she walked a few blocks before she hailed a cab. She settled in with a contented sigh. She had two hours of freedom ahead of her. Ten minutes later, she left the cab and went into a funky little art gallery. She spent a few minutes gazing at the mediocre paintings and then left by the back door. She hailed another cab and rode for a few minutes longer before she got out and went into a cozy coffee shop. She sat down and ordered a latte, and just a minute later, a tall, lean man with shoulder length dark hair joined her.

"Good morning," he said. "Are you feeling well today?"

"I'm feeling fabulous. And you?"

"I think I'm feeling…hungry."

Renata studied him. "You don't look particularly underfed."

He leaned forward and gave her a wicked grin. "Oh, I'm not. When I feel the need for something, I satisfy it."

"Really. I prefer to enjoy the anticipation of satisfying my desires." Renata touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip.

"I have something for you," the darkly handsome man said.

"Good. I wouldn't want to take this trip for nothing."

The man slid his folded newspaper over to her. "I think you'll enjoy the story on page thirteen. I need to be on my way. Enjoy your latte."

Renata sat in the coffee shop and sipped the latte at her leisure. When she left, she tucked the newspaper under her arm and walked a few blocks, stopping at a little shop that sold trinkets and local arts and crafts. She purchased a little box carved out of jade and then took another cab back to within a couple of blocks of her own building. She walked into the building by a side entrance and then called her driver and asked him to pick her up. Half an hour later, she was at the children's hospital and greeting her husband with a warm smile.

Logan frowned at her and said, "What are you wearing? You look very…dark."

"I had a bit of a headache, so I spent some time at the spa. I was overdue for a massage."

"I hope you look a little brighter tonight for dinner with George."

Renata said lightly, "Oh, I will. I'll have a couple of new gowns to choose from. Unfortunately, there was nothing appropriate in blue."

Logan's frown deepened. "That's a disappointment. Maybe it's time for us to take a shopping trip to France."

"Logan. You certainly don't have time now to fly off on a shopping trip. I'm sure I'll manage to look presentable. I always do, don't I?"

His frown cleared and he squeezed her left buttock quickly. "I can't complain about the way you look. And definitely not about the way you feel."

Renata stepped away and said, "Logan. Focus. You need to accomplish something here. People who love children are loved by the voters."

Irritably, he said, "Let's get this over with. I've got other things to do."

The two of them walked into the room that had been set up for the public appearance and Logan was all smiles and charm. He talked to children who were heartbreakingly ill and injured. He gave them little gifts that suited each of them perfectly. They'd had a list and a description of the children he would talk to and Renata had chosen perfectly thoughtful gifts for them. After fifteen minutes at the most, Logan regretfully announced that he would have to leave but that his beloved wife would stay and tour the rest of the hospital, talking to all and answering questions. He made his escape and Renata took over. This children's hospital was a passion to her, and she worked hard to see that they were provided with what they needed. After Logan left, she was in her element, listening carefully to what the children had to say, passing out more little gifts, reading a story to a little group of them, and talking at length to the administrator about the best ways to help the hospital. Renata stayed longer than she had planned, and when she got back into the car, she heaved a weary sigh. She leaned her head back and tried to keep her mind blank on the ride back to her building.

"Daria? Are you still here?" Renata called out as she entered the penthouse. There was no answer and she realized that her housekeeper had been gone for at least an hour. She went to the kitchen and looked around at the spotless space. It was as lovely as always. She turned on some music and let it fill the quiet penthouse while she took one of Daria's platters out of the refrigerator and helped herself to some exquisite little sandwiches. While she ate, she carefully opened the newspaper to page thirteen and removed the envelope that she found there. There was a single page of closely written text in it and she read it carefully before she carried it to her closet and added it to a folder that was in a concealed compartment of one of her leather bags.

Renata was sitting at her vanity, finishing her makeup, when her husband arrived, in a hurry as usual. He immediately switched off the music and headed for the shower, stripping off his clothes on the way. He talked nonstop about his day and how he had gotten his way with the city planning commission. Thankfully, Renata couldn't hear him any longer once he got into the shower and she turned the music back on while she dressed in a soft gray-green gown that clung to her and suited her mood. When Logan emerged from the bathroom, he stopped and frowned at her.

"What are you doing? That dress is so drab; you know George likes flashy. I thought you'd be in blue."

"There was nothing decent in blue to be had," Renata said.

"Well, put on something else. That's much too quiet for George."

Without a word, Renata went to the huge walk-in closet and pulled out a bright red dress. It was a beautiful dress that hugged her curves, but she hated wearing red. She held it against herself, and Logan nodded in approval.

"That's perfect, George'll love it."

"Well, thank God for that. George has such exquisite taste," Renata said with disdain.

Logan took her arm and whirled her around to face him. "George Russell is important to us. You will make him feel like the most important man on the face of the earth. Is that clear?"

Renata spit out the words, "Crystal clear. Shall I fuck him between courses?"

"Don't be ridiculous. But you certainly can fuck me after dinner." He leaned forward to kiss her, biting her lip savagely and stopping just short of drawing blood.

"Don't I always?" Her tone was ice cold.

Logan relaxed suddenly and laughed. "Yes, as a matter of fact. I've got no complaints in that department. Hurry up; we're leaving in fifteen minutes."

He went to get a whiskey, and Renata put the red dress on, vowing to throw it away after tonight. When she walked out into the living room, in her red dress and sparkling red heels, her husband's eyes glittered.

He let out a long breath and said, "You look magnificent." He put a fur stole over her shoulders and kissed her neck as he did so. Renata had to concentrate hard to suppress the shudder that his touch brought to her. When they left the penthouse, Renata's thoughts were far from the evening to come. She had much better things to think about. Logan never asked about how the rest of the hospital visit had gone, and Renata was pleased to keep the treasured memories of the children to herself.

When the golden couple walked into the restaurant, the hostess greeted them and showed them immediately to the table where George Russell and his woman friend were seated. The table was in a prominent spot in the restaurant, so they would be seen by as many important people as possible. George rose and shook Logan's hand and kissed Renata's cheek. Renata cringed inwardly and took note of the lascivious look in George's eyes as they swept her from head to toe. He introduced them to his companion, Yvonne, and the waiter came immediately to pour the wine. George liked to order the entire meal for all of them when he took them to dinner. Fortunately, his taste in food and wine was better than his taste in women.

Renata attempted to converse with Yvonne while the men talked political strategy, but it was difficult to get an intelligent sentence out of the sex kitten. She joined in the men's conversation now and then, but they were too engrossed in their own opinions to pay much attention to her, other than enjoying the sight of her in her red dress. She concentrated on the really fine meal and her own thoughts for most of the evening. When dessert was served, George turned his attention to her. He'd feasted his eyes on her throughout dinner.

"How was your visit to the children's hospital? I understand they love you over there," George said indulgently.

"It was a wonderful visit, as always. The seriously ill kids break my heart, so if I can make them smile for a little while, I've had a good visit."

George said, "They call you an angel over there, you know. Maybe you could take Yvonne with you next time."

Yvonne said with a shudder, "I can't stand hospitals. I don't know how you can bear to spend time there."

Renata said coolly, "Well, you certainly shouldn't attempt to do it if your heart's not in it. George, maybe you could visit the hospital instead."

George gave his booming laugh. "Hospitals aren't for me. I'll be glad to write them a check, though. Maybe I could present it to the administrator, have a little press conference. That'd be good PR."

Renata rolled her eyes inwardly but gave George a gracious smile. "Any contribution would be welcome, I'm sure."

"I'll have my secretary get in touch with you, Renata. You can set it up for us." George sat back, looking magnanimous.

"I'll look forward to it," Renata said, her head beginning to pound. She sipped her water and took a tiny bite of her decadent dessert and promised herself an extra fifteen minutes on the treadmill. Logan was looking at her with approval.

When the dinner was finally over, Renata thought she'd never been so relieved. She endured George's kiss again, turning her head just in time to keep him from catching her on the mouth, and stepped away as quickly as she could. Logan was enormously pleased with the way the dinner had gone. His wife was a puzzling enigma now and then, but she never failed to do what was needed to keep his ambitions moving in the right direction. He could always count on her to somehow know just the right things to say. And he found her cool, ladylike poise combined with her smoking hot looks to be the sexiest combination he had ever seen.

"You could have talked to Yvonne more," he pointed out.

"I tried, Logan, I really did. She could barely string a sentence together. She spent all her time playing footsie with George under the table. And he didn't seem to pay much attention."

Logan chuckled. "He'd rather watch you than play footsie with her. I told you the red dress was the right thing to wear."

When they finally closed the door to the penthouse, Renata said, "Darling, my head is pounding. I need to take a pill and get some sleep."

Logan looked at her, his eyes narrowed. "You know I have adrenalin to work off after these kinds of evenings."

"I'll make it up to you on Friday, after the rally at the Civic Center. That's going to be a big night. I'm going to need to be at my best and if this turns into a migraine, I won't be."

"All right. I have some work to do and some messages to send out. Go on to bed and don't forget to take a pill." He kissed her forehead and went to his office.

Renata was elated. Her day was over, and she was finally able to escape into her dreams. She threw the offensive red dress over the chair after she took it off, vowing to "accidentally" ruin it before she had to wear it another time. She concentrated on the children she had visited that day and soon drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.