Attracted to Fire by DiAnn Mills Page A

another jagged path lit the sky. “Been weeks since I’ve been to church. God’s probably erased me from the roll.”
    â€œOh, He knows where you are.”
    â€œThat, Agent Connors, is what keeps me going.” He lifted a brow and grinned. “So what’s your nickname?”
    â€œNot on your life. Might be used against me.” Meghan turned her attention to the computer and lowered the laptop lid. She’d ponder Ash’s spiritual life later, but she did feel better knowing he acknowledged God.
    â€œI’ll find out. Nicknames are my specialty.”
    â€œYou don’t want to go there.”
    â€œOuch, Agent Connors. Do you mean I have one?”
    She left the room before he had another comment. Nice guy when he wanted to be.

    Ash worked through to midmorning, searching restricted government sites for any clue leading to who and why the chaos in DC persisted. He resented the implication that the Secret Service was inept and hadn’t been able to find those responsible for bombing Lindsay’s car and sending untraceable e-mails.
    He stood and gazed out at the gray sky. Matched his mood. He needed a Diet Coke to help him through the next couple of hours. Hopefully, he could sneak into the kitchen and Pepper would be gone. When he opened the operation door that led to the kitchen, silence greeted him. Normally, she had country music playing. He couldn’t resist a grin, as though he’d completed a successful clandestine mission. The moment he rounded the corner, he spotted her drinking a glass of red wine. The bottle rested on the counter.
    Ash struggled to contain his anger. The many times he’d seen Lindsay drunk added fuel to his fury. “Why are you drinking?”
    She arched a brow and huffed. “Because I want to.”
    â€œYou heard what the vice president said—no alcoholic beverages were to be consumed. I repeated the order the first morning at breakfast.”
    â€œThis is medicinal, sir.” Condescension dripped from her words. “It helps me endure the distasteful parts of my day.”
    Ash picked up the bottle and poured its contents down the drain. “It’s your turn. Get rid of it. Now. Per the vice president’s orders.”
    â€œI take my orders from Scottard Burnette.”
    Ash wished he had the authority to fire her. He’d be content to live on peanut butter and jelly for the next six months. “Scottard Burnette takes his direction from Vice President Hall. I’m going to ask you one more time to pour out that wine.”
    â€œAnd if I don’t?”
    â€œWhy do you have to be so difficult?”
    â€œWhy do you have to use your authority to shove everybody around like you own the place? What I drink from my own supply in my room is my business.”
    Ash stared at her. How could one woman be so self-centered? “Lindsay is an alcoholic. She’s trying to get sober and clean. The drugs and alcohol will kill her if she isn’t able to beat them. If she sees you drinking, she’ll search the kitchen until she finds it.”
    She blew out a sigh. “All right. Have it your way.” She dumped the contents of her glass down the sink.
    â€œCould we make an effort to get along?”
    â€œMaybe.” She grabbed her garden basket. “You remind me too much of my husband. He always had to have his nose in everything I did. I resented it then, and I do now.”
    No wonder the man died of a heart attack.

Chapter 12
    Meghan took a sip of her water and walked into the stables. The scent of fresh hay and horses brought back memories of a simpler time when she was living at home and her family felt normal. Those were the good days when the most traumatic event centered on taking second in a barrel race instead of first. The perfectionism still reigned.
    The broken engagement bothered her, not so much for her own sake but for disappointing Mom. The dear woman had looked