Protect and Defend by Richard North Patterson Read Free Book Online Page A

sixty-eight percent of Alabamans want you to leave right now.”
    “California made you President,” Lara retorted. “The citizens of Alabama didn’t even want you sleeping here alone.”
    Kerry’s smile was rueful. “True enough. But we’ve learned about the problems, and long ago.”
    With their reluctant acquiescence, Clayton Slade had designed rules for the President and his lover: Lara and Kerry must be engaged; she could not preside at White House dinner parties or otherwise presume to act as First Lady; though she had strongly held political views, anything she felt must be said to Kerry in private. And rule number one— Lara could not sleep over. Tonight, of all nights, the White House staff would be careful to log her out.
    To others, their reasons might seem obvious. The White House held a special place in the American mind, and the President remained a figure of awe. It would not do, in these merciless times, for Kerry and Lara to seem arrogant or cavalier: from the
Post
to the slick women’s magazines, the press was avid for details of their relationship. And if the forces who despised Kerry could find no other way to tarnish him, Lara would do nicely.
    This was more than enough. But there was also a deeper reason, dating back several years, a secret which made the rules compulsory: that Lara, then a
New York Times
reporter, had fallen in love with a senator trapped in an emotionless, childless marriage. Kerry was prepared to leave his wife for Lara; loving him, she did not wish to harm his chance of becomingPresident. When she had become pregnant, Lara, against his wishes, had arranged an abortion and accepted a posting abroad.
    Two years of separation—punctuated by Kerry’s divorce— had followed, and then, still deeply in love, they came together again. For several months preceding Kerry’s election, the media and his political enemies had dogged their present and investigated their past. Though pro-choice as a matter of public policy, Kerry was, like Lara, Roman Catholic: that Kerry had pled with her to keep the child made his feelings about abortion more conflicted, their private history—potentially fatal to his candidacy—more painful and ambiguous. By concealing their affair and her abortion, Lara had freed him to become President, and committed them to do nothing to inspire further inquiry, or to hurt each other still more.
    So tonight they had an hour or so. Not enough time to resolve what divided them: his desire to have children as soon as possible; her lingering unease about life as First Lady and the threat posed by their past; their resulting inability to agree on the White House wedding Kerry’s media consultant was so desperate for. Just time enough to make love.
    “Do you ever miss how we were?” she asked. “Before?”
    He cocked his head, a characteristic gesture. “The privacy, you mean.”
    “Yes. All we cared about was each other. And not getting caught.”
    Kerry shook his head. “The world of an affair is like that. But we both know better than to call it real life.”
    Lara touched his face. “And this will be?” she asked gently.
    “It’s become
my
real life. Only it’s like no one else’s.” His smile, Lara saw, masked worry. “You’re not bailing out
already
, are you? I can see the headlines: ‘President Sworn In, Shafted.’”
    She returned his smile. “No,” she answered. “I don’t want anyone else. And I always believed you should be President.”
    “So marry me.”
    Lightly, Lara kissed him. “Do you think,” she inquired, “I could see the bedroom first?”
    Afterward, he held her, warm and silent in the dark.
    His stillness, so familiar to her, was one of deep thought.As if to acknowledge this, Kerry said quietly, “I was thinking about all I have to do now. About Roger Bannon, really.”
    This, too, was familiar. Death haunted him, and its randomness was a living presence in his mind. This was more, Lara was certain, than the dark and