Read Online Dirty Little Secrets by Kierney Scott - Free Book Online Page A

jumped into her mouth. She had to remind herself to breathe. There was an army of people on her front lawn. No, that wasn’t the right word, they were journalists. It was an insult to the rest of the population to call them people.
    Dozens of cameras were trained on her. Instinctively, her hands flew to the opening of her robe, gathering it tight around her neck.
    She closed her eyes and took in a slow calming breath. She stared directly into the crowd, her back straight, her gaze never faltering. She could not make out what they were shouting at her, past her name and “Is it true?”
Is what true?
She counted to five, allowing the photographers to snap away. She was not going to run, that would give them the power.
    She forced a smile. Her muscles rebelled against the simple action, but she was determined not to show any emotion. Her feelings were not for public consumption. Slowly she bent down and picked up the newspaper and then closed the door behind her.
    Her fingers shook as she bolted the door. She pressed her back against the cold wooden panel and slid to the floor, her breath leaving her in a quick whoosh. She closed her eyes and concentrated on slowly filling her lungs. If everything went to plan, this time next year, she would be married to the Vice President of the United States of America. She needed to get used to journalists on her doorstop. But did prey ever become comfortable with their predators?
    Several minutes passed before her legs could support her. Megan stood up and walked back to the kitchen. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down with the paper. She was not going to let anyone ruin what was left of her weekend. She was going to do the crossword like she did every Sunday before Ben got up and dragged her to church. Politicians had to be seen to go to church, even the closet atheist ones.
    She sat the paper down and began skimming the headlines. She blinked. That couldn’t be right. She read the headline again and then her eyes went to the picture of her house. Her heart stopped with a painful thud.
    She screamed. “Ben. Oh god, Ben wake up.” She put down her coffee and ran up the stairs to the master bedroom. Her heart was beating frantically against her ribs. “Ben, wake up!”
    Ben moaned before he rolled over. He opened one eye, the other still clinging to sleep.
    “Look at this.” She thrust the paper at his face. “Is that him?” she demanded as she pointed to the full-page picture of a thin blond man in front of her house. She had never seen Ben’s boyfriend before. She didn’t know what she expected him to look like, but this wasn’t it. He looked young and almost waiflike in his proportions, not a man she would pair with her husband.
    Ben sat up, rubbing his eyes. He took the paper from her and peered at the cover. His face went ashen. “Oh shit.” His voice was calm, frighteningly so.
    “Is that him?” she asked again.
    Ben ran a hand through his hair. “Yes.”
    “Someone took a picture of him leaving our house in the middle of the night. God, Ben. They’re going to figure it out.” She had been so worried about her blowing their cover that she had not considered the possibility that Ben would do it himself. He had always been so careful, only ever meeting out of state, far away from the media spotlight of DC. Until last night…
    Ben’s jaw tightened, the muscles along his neck growing taut under his tan skin. His eyes narrowed. He was calm, too calm, and it was scaring her. Wordlessly he reached over for his smartphone on the bedside table and dialled. “Booker, we have a problem.”
    Ben was silent as he listened to the presidential candidate on the other end of the phone. “Yes. Correct…I see…today?...fine…yes…no, I’ll tell her.”
    Megan held her breath as she listened.
    “What? What’s going on?” Megan demanded when he put down the phone. Ben was too calm. Something was wrong. She could feel it. The other shoe had yet to