Her Wanton Ways [Notorious Nephilim 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Carolyn Rosewood Page A

through Joelle’s body. It couldn’t be…“An excuse for what?” Her voice came out small and tight, but Cristian didn’t seem to notice.
    “As an excuse for the bee in his bonnet about the…um…services we offer. That’s his real agenda. It’s not as if we plan to cut down miles of forest, you know? We’re talking about a few trees here and there, and he knows that. His target is our moral indecency, as he called it.”
    Joelle nearly tripped over her own boots. She stopped walking again and stared at Cristian, who still hadn’t noticed her reaction.
    “The rumor is that he’s planning on running for the state senate, and he needs to look like a hero to get enough votes. The atmosphere in Washington is fairly conservative right now, and, well…we do have a reputation that wouldn’t sit well with them.”
    Joelle swallowed hard. “What’s this alderman’s name?” She hoped her question didn’t sound forced.
    “Scott Malloy.”
    Her heart hammered so loudly she was sure Cristian could hear it. Had she told them his name when she’d talked about him the night before? She couldn’t even remember right now. “Are you sure it’s from him? The opposition, I mean.”
    “He showed up here one day, along with a team of attorneys. Just to talk, they said. Zach and Emmett sent them back to Chicago, but, well, you can imagine we’re all a bit worried. I mean, we aren’t breaking any laws, but like I said, given the current political climate, we don’t need unwanted attention.”
    She’d filled out a ten-page questionnaire before coming here. It was required of each of their guests, but she’d never mentioned Scott’s name. It hadn’t seemed relevant. She’d checked the “never married” box because it was true. The form hadn’t asked about broken engagements, only current ones.
    The air around Joelle grew chilled again, so she linked her arm in Cristian’s, and this time didn’t question the warmth that spread through her body. There would be time later to ponder that phenomenon. Right now, she had to figure out what to do about Scott. That fucking bastard. Why this place? Cristian was right—he was only trying to get his name in the papers—not to mention crawl up the ass of everyone in Washington. He had his sights set on the White House one day, after all.
    She recalled a conversation she’d had with him shortly before breaking off the engagement, where he’d gone on and on about the decline of morality in the country. He had told her there were places right in Illinois where people were allowed to carry on with indecent behavior, unrestrained and unchecked. He was going after them, one by one.
    His dark eyes had shone with sinister light as he talked about the campaign he’d lead, straight to the White House. When he’d asked her how she’d feel about being the First Lady, she’d nearly retched. The idea of standing by Scott’s side on the White House lawn was so ludicrous she couldn’t even look him in the eyes.
    A sudden horrible thought occurred to Joelle. Did he already know she was here? She’d only told Peggy where she was going, and Peggy would never say a word to anyone, especially not Scott. No, it wasn’t possible. If he knew he’d have telephoned or shown up by now.
    But why this place? And how was he getting information about it? She hadn’t been able to find anything about this resort other than the article in H&E . It was as if the place didn’t really exist. A shudder ran through Joelle, and she gripped Cristian’s arm tighter. “It’s not fair.”
    “What isn’t fair?”
    “That an alderman from Chicago has any power up here to harass you and your family about this resort.”
    Cristian stopped walking and gave her a curious look. Joelle averted her gaze. Could he read her thoughts? If they found out she’d been engaged to Scott, would they send her packing?
    “Thank you, Joelle.”
    “For what?”
    “For caring about our business.”
    “You’re