Though brisk, windy, and chilly, the day went by quickly. Andrea stood at his side for the long day of events. The perfect socialite, she knew everyone, seamlessly fitting into every conversation and navigating the D.C. elite even better than he could, which was a feat in and of itself.

More people than he could have ever realized asked her about her art business. She would animatedly go on and on about the endeavor and offer them a private viewing or to keep a lookout for a piece they’d been searching for. Her networking skills seemed to be the highlight of her career. She knew everyone, so everyone wanted to work with her. And since she was part of the elite, they trusted her and thus flocked to her.

“You’re going to run out of artwork at this rate,” Clay joked.

Andrea squeezed his arm where she was holding on to it. She had just been speaking with a couple about finding a few new paintings for their house. The woman had even asked her to come to their suburban mansion to look at the space and get her point of view on what she thought would be the best. Everything would obviously be generously paid for.

“I could never run out of artwork, but it does seem like we’re going to need to travel more,” she admitted.

“I wish I could.”

“The new job is holding you back,” she joked, leaning into him and smiling at another couple they had seen at the last luncheon.

“Holding me back or propelling me toward my real future as the attorney general?”

Andrea wrinkled her nose. “Why do you even want that job, Clay?”

“You know why.”

“Because your dad mentioned it once when he told Brady he should be president?”

“And look where Brady is now,” Clay pointed out.

“You don’t have to stand in his shadow,” she murmured. “You’re your own man, Clay.”

“This is what I want,” he said fiercely.

“Okay,” she agreed easily. “There’s that fiery passion. I missed it.”

“I’ll show you fiery passion.”

He bent down and nipped her ear. Her eyes drifted around the room, as if to find a place they could sneak off to, but there was no such place. Not here with everyone they knew in attendance and thousands of people they didn’t know crowding the space. There wasn’t a place in D.C. where they could be alone right now.

“I have an idea,” Clay murmured.

“I’m listening.”

“You come back to my place.”

Andrea groaned. “You want me to come to your bachelor pad? You should have gotten a hotel in the city.”

“Come on, Andrea. Just you and me. Alone.”

“Can I burn the sheets?”

“Whatever turns you on, baby.”

“No,” she said with a sad sigh. “We should stay and be here for your parents and Brady. Liz is new at all of this. She’s navigating it well, but she’s not used to this kind of stuff. I kind of like helping her with it when I can.”

Clay’s eyes widened. “Who are you, and what have you done with my girlfriend?”

“Oh, don’t think I’ve turned into a sap on you. She’s just…nice.”

“She is.”

“And,” she said quickly, “you didn’t fuck her.”

He laughed. “No, I didn’t.”

“So, I can actually welcome her into the family. I want her and Brady to do well, you know?” Andrea’s eyes swept over to where Brady had his arm locked protectively around Liz’s waist.

They were deep in conversation with some other couple. Liz looked radiant and undeniably happy.

“I know just what you mean.”

“Clay Maxwell!” Andrea said. “Are you becoming a sap on me?”

“No.”

“But you want your brother to be happy? With a girl you pursued?”

Clay shrugged. “When you put it like that…”

Andrea stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell your brother that you actually love him.”

“You’re insane, woman.”

“I just know you too well, Mr. Maxwell.”

“Well, if you aren’t going to get to know me better in a more…biblical sense, then you’d better go over there and help my future sister-in-law.”

Andrea giggled and walked over to Liz. She linked arms with Liz and drew her away from Brady. Brady’s eyes locked with Clay’s across the distance, and he nodded curtly, as if entrusting him with his most precious cargo. Clay nodded back and watched as Andrea worked her magic with Liz in the room for the next hour.

By the time they could finally extricate themselves from the day’s events to get ready for the inaugural ball later that evening, they were both wiped out, and Andrea was late for her hairstylist appointment at her apartment. Just because of the crowds, it was hell, getting back to her place. But Clay knew he’d have a while to wait as Andrea got ready for the events of the night.

Andrea kissed him deeply on the lips before scampering upstairs. He changed into his tux and waited for her…for what felt like forever. And, when she reappeared, he missed everything she was wearing and simply stared at the beautiful woman. All he saw were long and lean legs, sexy, curvy hips, soft breasts spilling out of the top, and that perfect face smiling back at him.

“Fuck.”

“That good?”

“Hell yeah. Better than good.” He stepped up to her and ran his hands over every square inch of material he could touch. “More like, I’m going to tear this dress off, like I did the last one, to get to exactly what I want underneath it.”

Andrea smirked at him and planted a light kiss on his lips. “As much as I’d adore that, I thought we could maybe…talk for a minute?”

“You’d rather talk than spend the next ten minutes fucking before the limo arrives?”

She just walked across the room and took a seat on the sofa. He followed her, leaning back into the corner and draping his arm across the back.

“It’s not that I want to skip having sex with you. The sex has been…amazing. Even better than normal, and it’s always really great,” she said. Andrea didn’t fidget or squirm like he thought most girls would when she had something serious she wanted to say to him. She just looked him square in the eyes and delivered her carefully constructed speech. “But I want more than great sex, Clay.”