Various States of Undress
Read Various States of Undress Online
Authors: Laura Simcox
Various States of Undress: Carolina
LAURA SIMCOX
This book is for Nicole Resciniti, who threw open the door and pointed the way for me.
Thank you for turning a dream into a reality. Here’s to many more!
Contents
An Excerpt from
Various States of Undress: Virginia
An Excerpt from
Falling for Owen
by Jennifer Ryan
An Excerpt from
Good Girls Don’t Date Rock Stars
by Codi Gary
A
YEAR AGO,
Carolina Fulton didn’t think much about fame.
These days, she could go online, type her name into a search engine, and come up with hundreds of hits. She could even buy a plastic bobblehead of herself. The thought of
that
usually made her smile. But not today. That’s because today, after two straight hours of nodding and smiling, her own very real head felt like it was about to pop off her shoulders.
Some days it sucked to be a daughter of the president of the United States.
Today was one of them.
Planted in a circle of helmet-haired society wives in the East Room of the White House, she tried to tune out the din of voices and the string quartet in a corner of the room as she leaned forward, feigning polite attention. Pain squeezed her temples, and she barely avoided rolling her eyes at the name-dropping old bat to her right. Carolina had a bobblehead-ache. She had to get out of here.
Smoothing the front of her full-skirted taffeta cocktail dress, she bobbled her head two more times—
ouch
—and extended her right hand into the circle. She didn’t care who shook it, as long as she could bolt in the next ten seconds.
“Will it be a Rose Garden wedding, dear?” asked a woman wearing a diamond brooch big enough to be used as a coaster. Another woman, the loudest of the bunch, let out an annoying
tsk
. “Of course it will, Sylvia. Don’t be silly. Who’s designing your gown, Carolina? I have some names for you if you haven’t made up your mind.”
Carolina blinked a couple of times and pasted on a brilliant smile. “Ladies, Roger and I haven’t set a date yet, but you’ll be the first to know.” She winked and let the subdued laughter wash over her. Her left eye twitched. “And I haven’t decided on a veil yet, either. But silk chiffon does sound lovely. Thanks for the tip.”
As she backed away, she fluttered a manicured hand and scanned the room for an empty space. The corner near the grand piano looked promising. She weaved her way through the glittering crowd toward the drapes behind the piano, reached beneath the bow on the waist of her conservative dress and slipped her cell from a side pocket.
Where the hell was Roger? He knew that diplomatic receptions weren’t her cup of tea, so this time Mr. Social had volunteered to stay nearby. Not that she couldn’t take care of herself, but it had been a relief knowing her fiancé would run interference for her especially since she was exhausted. She’d been going full steam since eight a.m. with a full day of classes sandwiched between a charity luncheon she didn’t even remember and now this event. Roger was supposed to be her prop tonight.
Oh, God. That sounded bad . . . not prop.
Support
. But an hour had passed since he’d vanished.
With a glance behind her, Carolina focused her attention on her phone.
Where r u?
she texted.
She stared at the small screen. When the bubble popped up, alerting her that Roger was typing, she exhaled. Good. But then the bubble vanished. She frowned. How typical. Roger Chapman was known for being easily distracted. His lack of focus was the main reason that her dad hadn’t asked him to be chief of staff, even though Roger was capable of the job in many other ways. But Patrick Fulton didn’t roll the dice on the people who worked for him; making wise choices was how he’d gotten elected to the highest office in the land.
Secretly Carolina agreed with her dad, although she’d never admit it to Roger. She admired her dad and followed his example most of the time, especially about making wise decisions.
Agreeing to marry Roger was a
rash
decision
, her conscience whispered.
Shut up
, she told it.
Getting married made sense. It would certainly be met with approval, because when her father had been a Governor, Roger had been his right-hand man. And even though Carolina’s two sisters were the more overtly talented daughters, she’d always been the person Roger had a smile for. The middle child. The agreeable one. The perpetual student. The hard worker. Roger was like that too.
So when he’d asked her out a year ago, soon after her dad had announced his run for the White House, she’d been thrilled. And when he’d proposed to her at one of the inaugural balls, it had seemed like a fairy tale. Of course she’d said yes. Since that day two months ago, she’d been caught in the whirlwind of Washington society, and wedding chatter had been on the tips of everyone’s tongues—except hers.
That’s because you don’t love him
, whispered her sneaky conscience.
Leave me alone
, she shot back.
You think I’m sneaky, but you know Roger is
.
Carolina sighed. Yes, she knew he was sneaky. The more time she spent with her fiancé, the less she liked him. He was a chronic workaholic and resuming chief-of-staff duties for the woman who’d filled her dad’s senate seat, Roger had been more and more evasive about . . . well, everything. She closed her eyes and swallowed.
“Everything all right, Miss?”
Carolina turned with a ready smile for the butler near her shoulder. “Yes, fine. Thanks. But would you be able to get me an aspirin or something?”
The man nodded. “Of course. Be back in a minute.”
The phone in her hand came to life and Carolina looked down at Roger’s return text:
Sorry, babe. Be there in a sec.
She shook her head, her fingers flying.
This party is driving me nuts. Where r u? I’ll come find u.
Tapping her foot, she waited. A few seconds later, he answered.
No, don’t. Be back up in sec, like I said.
Back up? He’d probably gone down to the China Room. When visiting the White House, he tended to go there when he wanted to make phone calls. Which was often. Carolina’s eyes scanned the doorway. The butler walked through, a tray in hand. She met him halfway, took a glass of water and two aspirins from the tray. “Thanks very much,” she said with a strained smile.
He nodded. “My pleasure.”
Carolina returned the water glass, slipped through the doorway and headed for the staircase at the end of the Grand Hall. She felt like hell and all she wanted was to go back to her apartment in Georgetown and collapse into bed. But first, Roger Chapman needed to be set straight. She was more than sick of him vanishing like the Invisible Man every time she needed him. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed the handrail and placed a too-tight satin shoe on the first step.
A polite cough behind her made her freeze in place and then give in to the eye roll she’d been craving most of the evening. She sighed and turned to glance back at her newest Secret Service agent.
“We’re
in
the White House, so I think I’ll be safe walking down the stairs. Could you just let me alone for ten minutes, please?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Why not?”
“It’s my job.”
Carolina folded her arms and surveyed the man in black. Jason Baxter . . . or was it Jake? Either way, he looked like most of the other agents—tall and chiseled. This one, though, had amazing green eyes and a chest harder than Mount Rushmore. She knew, since she’d bumped into it by accident the other day. He was perfectly still under her scrutiny; his eyes betrayed nothing. He was a machine in a pretty package. But that fact hadn’t stopped her from entertaining fantasies about the man. Ones in which he actually smiled. And others in which he did a lot more than just smile.
If you hadn’t been taking photos of him on the sly, you wouldn’t be so painfully aware of him right now.
Carolina’s face felt hot with embarrassment, but almost immediately, she shook it off. Agent Baxter didn’t know she’d taken those photos. He also didn’t know that she’d pulled them up on her laptop a couple of times—well, too many times to count—and indulged in the pure pleasure of just looking at him. As far as he was aware, she just enjoyed photography. It was her hobby; everyone knew that. She’d even talked about it for an interview with
Vogue
.
Her dad had only been president for two months and here she was, an engaged woman, lusting after a Secret Service agent. God.
“Nice bow tie,” she commented and turned to grab the handrail again.
Jake trotted down the steps, passing her. Near the bottom, he glanced back. “I need to be in front,” he muttered, holding out an arm to halt her progress. Even through his suit sleeve, she could tell that arm was muscular. This guy had been her shadow for two solid weeks, and before that, she was pretty sure he’d been glued to a diplomat. When did he have time to work out?
He’s hot,
her conscience whispered.
“Thought I told you to shut up,” she answered. Except this time it was out loud.
Jake raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
Carolina closed her eyes briefly. “Sorry. I’m just really tired. I mean, really exhausted.”
“You want to go home?” he asked, even as he stepped across the hall and to the doorway of the China Room, his eagle-eyed gaze darting around.
“Yes. But first I need to speak with my fiancé,” she answered, smoothing her sleek dark hair behind her ears. And it was then that she heard the giggles, followed by familiar annoying chuckles. Roger only chuckled like that when he was trying to wheedle his way into . . . oh.
Oh hell, no!
With narrowed eyes, Carolina crossed the dimly lit hall, intent on murder.
J
AKE FROZE IN
the entry to the China Room and placed his hands on either side of the doorframe.
Shit.
He couldn’t let her in.
“Let me in there,” Carolina demanded in a terse whisper.
“No, ma’am,” he replied, his mind shuffling through several lies he could tell her, one of which she might buy. He came up empty. She was incredibly smart. Not to mention beautiful, but her beauty was none of his business. The only thing he should be concerned with was her safety. Behind him, he heard an exasperated sigh, and then felt her small hands curl around his left arm.
“Why? Is there an imminent threat to my security?” She grunted. “Move this tree trunk out of the way and let me through!”
Another burst of giggles was quickly followed by a moan and Jake winced. This was going to suck. But he couldn’t think of a plausible reason why he shouldn’t step aside. So he did.
“Thank you,” Carolina whispered. She stepped into the middle of the dimly lit room. “Roger? I know you’re in here.”
Jake watched as she twisted her head, looking for her asswipe of a fiancé. Really, for her sake, he was glad she was about to find Roger in a liplock with some skank. Then maybe the charade of her engagement would be over. She deserved better.
Lifting his arm, he muttered into his microphone, “Care Bear secure in China Room. ETA East Room twenty-one hundred hours.”
