Free Oath of Office by Michael Palmer Page A

the bottomless compassion for the causes he believed in. From that admiration came a profound and deepening love.
    If there was any aspect of his personality she had to work to accept, it was the power of his ambition.
    “Sorry I’m late getting up here. I had to give a statement about the killings in Kings Ridge.”
    “How terrible that is. Everyone seems shaken. I saw you commenting on the news a little while ago. You did an excellent job. Very honest and from the heart.”
    “Thanks, princess. The whole thing is just awful. Right out of the blue, the guy goes postal.”
    “I don’t think that’s a phrase you want to use in public.”
    Martin chuckled. “No, I suppose not. Especially since the union endorsed me. You got anything on under there?”
    “Nothing that can’t be taken off with the flick of a finger in, say, a nanosecond.”
    He slowly lowered the sheet. His eyes sparked. “You are just the best thing I’ve seen all day,” he said in a worn voice.
    Darlene had promised Russ Evans she would at least speak to Martin on behalf of his legislation. But the way Martin looked to her now—haggard, creases like canyons cutting across his forehead—she felt herself having second thoughts. The old saw about carrying the weight of the world wasn’t completely true for many, but it was for him. She lowered him to his belly and kneaded his shoulders.
    “You could have seen me earlier,” she said in a soft voice.
    There was a passing instant when she wished she had kept her feelings about the dedication to herself, but she had strong beliefs that a marriage without communication was doomed to turn toxic.
    Martin swung around, pressed a warm hand to the side of her face, and gently caressed her cheek. “I’ll make it up to you,” he said before giving her a quick kiss on the lips. “I know that I disappointed you today, and I’m sorry. Really and truly sorry.”
    Darlene smiled down at her husband. Whatever effects of the job she had observed seemed to have diminished. Her heart filled with love and her eyes must have reflected her desire, because Martin rolled over and kissed her hard on the lips, cupping her breast in his hand. Her mouth opened in response and she kissed him back, deeply. Their lovemaking had been occurring less frequently of late, coinciding not so much with pressures of the presidency, but with the time that Martin’s outbursts had become more common.
    He slipped off the rest of his clothes and moved her down beside him, his hands continuing to explore the spots she liked. His touch brought Darlene a profound feeling of comfort and desire. She felt him becoming aroused, and herself beginning to respond. Perhaps this night, the Ambien would stay in the drawer.
    “So, baby,” Martin said, beginning the sort of banter he enjoyed during sex. “Tell me something else about your day.”
    Darlene tensed.
    No lies, no evasions. That was the unwritten rule of their marriage.
    She once again flashed on Russ Evans’s sad, desperate face.
    “Actually,” she said while Martin worked at her neck with his lips, “there is something I need to discuss with you. But it can wait.”
    Martin moaned in her ear. “Hmmmm … sure … get it off your chest if it will help you relax. You seem a little tense.”
    Darlene gazed up at the ceiling as he continued to explore the soft curves of her chin, neck, and breasts. He was right about her feeling tense, even though he was, as usual, unwilling to take any responsibility.
    “Russ Evans came to the dedication today,” said quietly. “We didn’t see him there, but afterwards, he followed us to the Bar None and asked us to meet with him in private upstairs.”
    Martin stopped kissing her and remained motionless. The temperature between them dropped several degrees.
    “And did you?”
    “Did I what?”
    Martin sat up. The ice in his eyes was reflected in his voice. “Meet with him.”
    “I … didn’t see what harm could come of it. I mean, we