His comment was rife with double meaning that Sam refused to acknowledge. Her face, however, heated with embarrassment as she helped him decide on a dark navy suit, pale blue silk dress shirt and a tie decorated with small American flags. They unearthed a garment bag, and Sam zipped it over the suit.

“Underwear?” she asked.

“He didn’t wear it in life.”

“How in the hell do you know that?”

Nick laughed. “We were at a luncheon with the Daughters of the American Revolution a year or so ago, and everyone was starting to leave when one of the blue hairs came to tell me the senator needed me at the head table. I went into the room, and he was sitting all by himself.”

“How come?”

“Apparently, he’d managed to split his pants and was in need of an exit strategy.”

Sam laughed at the picture he painted. “Let me guess—he was in commando mode?”

“You got it. So I found him an overcoat—not an easy feat in July, I might add—and got him out of there with his pride intact.”

“Where did that fall in your job description?”

“Under ‘other duties as assigned,’” he said with a sad smile that tugged at her heart.

“All right then. No underwear. Shoes?”

“Would you want to spend eternity with your feet encased in wingtips? The tie will be bad enough. I’m sure I’ll hear plenty about that when we meet up again in the afterlife.” He reached for her hand and linked their fingers. “Thank you for helping me with this.”

Flustered, she extracted her hand and jammed it in her pocket. “It’s no problem.”

“Is choosing clothes for the deceased part of your job description?”

“This is definitely a first.”

On their way out of John’s bedroom, Nick looked at her in a way that reminded Sam of what he wanted from her. A burst of yearning took her by surprise. Sam wasn’t a woman who yearned, especially for a man. She was focused, efficient, dedicated to her work and her family, hard nosed when she needed to be, and independent—fiercely and completely independent. So it should have been unsettling to want a man as much as she wanted Nick.

Truth be told, she had fantasized about him for years after the night they spent together. She had followed Senator O’Connor’s career and watched hours of congressional coverage in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the senator’s trusted aide. But only rarely had she seen Nick. He apparently kept a much lower profile than his illustrious boss.

In the parking lot, he held the passenger door of his car for her.

She slid into the buttery soft leather seat and sighed with contentment. When he turned the car on, she quickly discovered the seats were heated and felt like she’d gone straight to heaven. “This car suits you.”

“You think so?”