Love Is Elected by Alyssa Howard Read Free Book Online

the room fine antiques upholstered in shades of blue and gold were set off by the polished sheen of mahogany Queen Anne tables and a Sheraton desk.
    Quizzically, Matt raised a dark eyebrow. "This isn't a typical struggling young career girl's apartment. How do you afford such luxury?"
    Kara stiffened and shot him an angry look. "The furniture happens to have belonged to my parents," she countered.
    Matt shrugged, his eyes resting thoughtfully on a blue velvet loveseat. "Well, they certainly had good taste," he conceded. "But there's hardly room to turn around here. Where do you entertain this Wayne when your roommate's at home?" he baited, giving her a cold, level stare. "Or do you take him directly to your bedroom? I've heard that's where you Washington career girls do a lot of your entertaining."
    "Well, you should know," she shot back, remembering the intimate remarks that had passed between her husband and Vera Caldwell. "But I'm not in the habit of entertaining men in bed, and that includes you." She cast him a defiant glare and marched purposefully into her room where she yanked clothes from closets and drawers.
    As she began to fold and stuff underwear into her large blue suitcase, a new concern presented itself.
    On Monday she had to be in the office at nine o'clock. So much had happened that she'd forgotten momentarily about her job. But it was important to her and she didn't want to lose it. She dropped the slips she was holding into the open suitcase and went to the doorway where she confronted Matt once more. He was sprawled on the loveseat and looked totally at home. For some reason this made her even more irritated.
    "What about my job?" she demanded. "I need to be back here Monday morning for work and my car is still in Frederick."
    "Your car is being delivered to my town house. But don't worry about work," he drawled. "This is our honeymoon, remember? Your boss is a friend of mine, so I'm sure if I tell him the situation, he'll give you a temporary leave of absence."
    Kara began to protest, "But I have a lot to do. I've started a big project…"
    "Listen, I'm not without influence. I'll call Harry Simpson right now," he said, moving assuredly toward the phone. "Everything will be okay."
    As Matt located her boss' telephone number in the D.C. directory and confidently began to dial the number, Kara again had the sensation of being swept away on a tide of events. She seemed to have no control over her life anymore. Decisions concerning her were now being made by others. She felt like a helpless, abandoned child. Not since her parents' death had she felt so much at the mercy of strangers. Her shoulders drooping, she turned back to her bedroom to complete her haphazard packing.
    Minutes later Matt had finished his call and joined her in the bedroom.
    "Well, that's all settled," he remarked brusquely. "You have at least a two-week leave of absence. And we can probably extend that if it's necessary." He bent down and effortlessly swung her heavy suitcases up from the floor.
    "Let's get out of here," he commanded, turning toward the door. "We've got a lot to do yet." Kara followed helplessly behind him, casting a hasty farewell glance at her apartment before he closed the door firmly behind her.
    On the drive north to Matt's town house in Columbia, they stopped for sandwiches at a deli. Matt, his brow furrowed in concentration, made no attempt at conversation. And Kara felt too de-pressed and beaten to attempt any more verbal sallies. But as they approached the entrance to the new city of Columbia, Matt looked at her inquiringly.
    "Is this your first time here?" he asked.
    "I've heard of it," she admitted, beginning to look around with interest, "but I've never been here." They were entering from the south. Trees lined the road on either side and handsome modern buildings swung into view.
    "This is the downtown area," Matt explained. "You can't see it, but there's a man-made lake behind there," he pointed out.
    "It's