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“That must be nice. I’m not sure I believe in luck anymore.”
Doyle stood up and faced her. “Do you have any idea the impact you’ve had on this world? You are the fucking first woman president. I have no doubt that little girls all over are pretending to be you.”
Angela didn’t know what to say to that.
“You didn’t answer my question. Has anyone ever asked you what you want?”
Angela whispered, “Blake has been the only one to ask me that.”
“That should speak louder than words ever could.”
Angela got off the rock, walked a few steps away, and then came back. “Do you think we should tell humans about supernaturals?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. You’re the one making the laws. What do you think?”
“I think it makes sense. The time is right.”
“Then that’s your answer.”
Angela turned toward the cabin, walking back.
“Would you wait for me?” Doyle said.
She turned her head over her shoulder. “Oh, and I’ve made a decision.”
Doyle had no trouble catching up to her and following in step. “And what decision is that?”
She stopped. “Not only am I running for re-election, but I’m winning a second term.” She paused. “Maybe.”
“I have no doubt you will.”
As they got to the cabin, Angela said to herself, “I’m glad one of us doesn’t have any doubts.”
Chapter Thirteen
Giselle
Giselle told herself to wait ten more minutes. If Tristan had not shown up by then, she’d leave, finish packing for Trinidad, and never look back. She still wasn’t sure she owed him even that much time. He was a walking, lust-filled, bad mistake. When he showed up at her hotel room, she wanted to forget their past and screw him until she couldn’t walk. But she would never let him have the satisfaction of knowing she wanted him that badly. It was embarrassing enough when they stepped away during her ceremony. Had he kissed her hard, she might have lost control and then dismissed the entire interaction on out-of-control hormones or nerves.
But oh, no.
Tristan barely had to kiss her. He made sure to touch her in a way that would leave her begging for release. Then he left the room and left her standing there fighting her inner vixen.
Damn it.
She crossed one leg over the other, squeezing her legs together to combat the growing need that threatened to consume her.
For a second, she hoped he would show up wearing an ugly suit with his hair messed up and bad breath. But who was she kidding? Even a polyester leisure suit would look good on him. And if he showed up with bad breath, there were plenty of other places to kiss him.
Giselle took a drink of water and studied the menu one more time. She’d seen it enough to memorize it, but the people around her began to stare. It felt very exposing.
“Is that seat taken?”
She knew from the chills cascading down her back that Tristan had arrived. If it only took his voice to make her wet, she might as well raise the white flag now.
“Mmm, yes, actually it is. It’s saved for a man who knows the meaning of promptly.”
He bent to kiss the back of her neck, and she fought the natural inclination to wrap her arms around his neck.
