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Authors: Mary Whitney

A Political Affair (20 page)

BOOK: A Political Affair
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Lillian pointed her trowel at the door. “Please, go on in. Stephen is waiting for you.”

“Okay. I’ll see you later.”
 

As she pushed open the heavy door, it sprung more easily than expected, and she realized it opened from within.
 

“Hey, sweetheart.” Stephen stood in front of her grinning.
 

She smiled and gave him a peck. “Hey.”

“It’s good to see you. Let me take your things.”

After he hung her jacket and bag in the closet, he led her into the living room. “My mom promised to stay out of our hair. She says she has two hundred bulbs to plant in the front.”

She noticed a few brown specks on his hoodie and picked one off. “Leaves? Have you also been gardening?”

“She had me out back raking leaves.”

“You don’t have a gardener?” She snickered. “Or peasants or serfs?”

“Very funny.” He smirked. “We do have
a
gardener. His name is Hal. I’m pitching in because my mom says the leaves accumulate too quickly, and they’ll ruin her flowerbeds.” He chuckled and nodded toward the yard. “I’ve got some big piles out there.”

“Do you need to finish?”

“Later.” He pulled her closer and leaned down for a kiss. “You’re here now.”

It was a kiss more appropriate for the bedroom than the living room, and to make up for the location, he picked her up at the hips and placed her atop the back of a sofa. They continued to kiss until he moved his mouth down her neck. Tilting her head, he took his kisses down along the neckline of her tank top. He chuckled into her cleavage. “I’m glad you’re as happy to see me as I am you.”

“Yes,” she said a little breathless. “I’d say so.”

Seconds later, the creak of the front door opening stopped everything.

“Stephen? Are you in here?” called Lillian. “I’m just getting some water.”

An irritated Stephen shook his head and called out, “We’re heading downstairs.” He turned to Anne. “Sorry about that. This isn’t the most private part of the house. Let’s go watch football or something.”
 

As he led her through the maze of rooms in the lower portion of the house, she glanced in the open doors. The downstairs was partially below ground, with a game room and gym. She pointed at a closed door. “What’s in there?”

“Wine cellar.”

“Naturally,” she said as her mouth twitched in a smile.

“I know, I know.” He chuckled.
 

“I’m only teasing you.”

“And you’re going to pay for it later,” he answered as he squeezed her hand.

They reached the so-called theater, which was more of a giant living room; it held a large screen television and a bar with an additional sitting area. Anne sank into the cushy sofa and hummed. “I’m going to have to stop teasing you about your family’s money. This is really comfortable.”

“Nah. Don’t stop giving me shit. We deserve it. My ancestors certainly didn’t come by it honorably,” he said as he opened a couple of beers.

“Not any less honorably than any other railroad baron family.”

“That’s not saying much,” he mumbled. He nabbed a bag of pretzels and sat beside her. After he handed her a beer, he took a swig of his. “My great-great-grandfather kicked innocent people off the land they’d lived on for hundreds of years.”

“And pillaged our natural resources to line his own pockets.” She giggled.

“Ill-gotten gains. I admit it.”

Her face softened, and she stroked his cheek. “And because you understand it and now you want to help people . . . well . . . that’s part of what makes you such a good person.”

“I don’t know about that . . .” He shrugged.

“I do,” she said and gave him a kiss.

He reached over and pulled her in tighter. Closing the distance between them, she grabbed his bulky sweatshirt. The lumpy material between them made her laugh.

“What did you say about my sweater last weekend? I think you said it was offensive because you couldn’t see me.”

“That’s right. So what?” He chuckled. “You think my sweatshirt is offensive?”

“Definitely.”

Without further comment, he leaned forward and yanked the hoodie over his head, as only men do. He was left in a white undershirt, which she eyed with approval.
 

“Better,” she said and reached up to kiss him again. Her hands roamed freely across his torso.
 

As her hands lingered on his lower abdomen, he sucked in a breath. “Anne . . .” His voice was low and full of warning.

“What?” she asked with mock innocence, not waiting or caring for an answer. She was enjoying the moment too much. The room felt tucked away in the house, and the privacy added to her confidence. Since they started talking all the time on their borrowed cell phones, she knew him better, and now there was an opportunity to know him even more. She wanted to explore and enjoy him—and to please him.
 

When she lifted his shirt and dragged her fingers along the taut muscles of his stomach, he reacted instantly. “What are you doing?”

“Exploring . . . I guess.”
 

She found the tempting stretch of hair from below his belly button and stroked it up and down. “Should I stop?”
 

“Uh . . .” He stared at her hands which toyed with him. “Fuck, no.”

He found her mouth again in a hungry kiss. Simultaneously, he reclined in a silent plea. She tentatively moved her hand lower and found his erection trapped at an awkward angle in his jeans. She unzipped them, freed him from his confines, and lowered her head; it took no time before he was moaning his approval. By the end, he was quiet as he panted, catching his breath.
 

When he didn’t open his eyes for a moment, she chuckled. “I mauled you. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” he said, opening his eyes. He leaned to give her a kiss, which grew from one of appreciation to one of want. He murmured, “Can I take you up to my room? I swear my mom won’t go anywhere near it.”
 

“As much as I’d like that, not today—not with her around.” She decided while it would be horrible to have a mother walk in while you gave her son head, it would be even worse to have her walk in while you were naked with his head between your thighs.

“I understand. It seems unfair to both of us, though.” His voice was husky. “I’d really like to touch you.”

He kissed her again, and her hands roamed his bare skin. He groaned and caught her wrists in his. “If things are ending here, you need to stop touching me.”

“Oops.”

“No, it’s not a bad thing.” He kissed her forehead. “You’re just too tempting.”

“I could say the same thing.” She smiled. “Maybe we should get some fresh air?”

“If you want to keep your clothes on while my mom is around, that’s a good idea,” he said with a smile.
 

They made their way into the backyard again, and as they strolled around the grounds, he told her about growing up in between D.C. and Colorado. After a while, Anne spied a small, weathered gazebo hidden among the brambles in the far corner of the property.
 

When she asked about it, he smiled. “It’s my mother’s. My dad built it for her.”

“Wow. That’s very sweet.”

“He was a good carpenter. Let me show it to you.”

He led her inside the structure, where she admired the ornate woodwork. “It’s really lovely.”

“You should see it in the springtime. It’s covered in roses.”

The setting was so stereotypically romantic, she unwittingly made a snarky comment. “Do you bring all of your lady friends here, Senator McEvoy?”

“No.” Glancing around the gazebo, his brow creased like he didn’t understand why she asked. “Actually, I’ve never brought anyone here.” He smiled and his voice softened as he declared, “Until now . . . until you.”
 

“Oh.” Her breath hitched at the emotion she saw on his face. He looked genuinely troubled by her flippancy. A rush of embarrassment and confusion hit her. She thought of apologizing, but her rational mind overruled her. “But how can that be?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’ve had girlfriends before—serious ones, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, but . . . you’re different,” he said as he picked a stray leaf out of her mussed ponytail.
 

“How can I possibly be different? You’ve had your pick of women. You must have had some interesting girlfriends in the past. They couldn’t all be bimbos.”

“Bimbos? Are you referring to Jennifer?” He smirked and shook his head. “Are you sure you want to have this conversation right now? I mean . . . we can. Of course, that means I get to hear about all your boyfriends.”

She shrugged and sat on the gazebo’s circular bench. “I’m curious.”

“Okay.” He chuckled and took the seat beside her.

Ghosts of boyfriends and girlfriends past were discussed. Anne revealed her childhood best friend who had become her first longtime boyfriend, only to later turn into a royal asshole. Stephen lumped together a series of girlfriends from high school and college, and she ticked off a list of run-of-the-mill college flings. Finally, Stephen’s most serious girlfriend came up.

“We met in law school. Rebecca Pierce. It was serious.”

“What’s she like?”

“Brilliant. She’s a partner at a big firm in New York.”
 

Anne didn’t appreciate the sound of that, especially as she guessed Rebecca was probably also gorgeous. She hoped it was a short relationship. “How long were you together?”

“Two and a half years. The serious marriage pressure started right after two years.”

“You didn’t want to get married?”

“I didn’t want to marry
her
. Something was off. She was really upper crust East Coast. She fit into a lot of my life, but there was something which didn’t quite match between us. I loved her, but there was no passion.”
 

“And after her?”

“I swore off women after her.”

“Huh?”

“Okay. That’s not quite right. I swore off relationships. Too much trouble.”

Anne nodded silently. If he thought relationships were too much trouble, why in the world was he in one with her?
 

“So, here we are,” she said, breaking the silence. “In a troublesome relationship, but it’s even worse. I’m the problem. I’m trouble.”

“I don’t think the relationship is troublesome at all, but you are trouble. There’s no doubt about that,” he said with a smile which diminished as he gazed into her eyes. “You’re also the prettiest, most interesting woman I know, and you’re more than worth the trouble.”
 

“You sure?” she asked hesitantly, hoping to hell he meant it.

“Yes.” He leaned in for a kiss and said three words which permanently changed things between them. “Because you’re everything.”

She intended to give him a quick kiss and say how she felt, but he would have none of it. Instead, he caught her in a full embrace and determined kiss. If he meant for his words and kisses to make her feel special, it worked.
 

After the kiss, she ran her fingertips along his brow. “I’m here for as long as you’ll have me.”

“That’s going to be a mighty long time,” he replied and kissed her again.

After a lovely afternoon together and dinner with Lillian, they stood in the foyer and waited for her cab. Stephen cradled her in his arms as they intermittently talked and kissed.
 

“I don’t want you to leave,” he said regretfully.
 

“I don’t want to leave,” she answered with a kiss behind his ear.

“We may not see each other—alone—until after Thanksgiving.”

“You’re going back to Colorado this week, right?”

“Yes, and I’ve got the state dinner.”

“A state dinner is a big deal, though. Not many members of Congress are invited. Is Patty excited?”

“Very. She’s been talking up her dress for the last month.” He frowned. “I wish you could be my date. You’d look gorgeous. And you could charm Grayson some more and meet his wife.”

“Well, I have nothing to wear, so it doesn’t matter.” She smiled. “In the meantime, we’ll talk.”

“And plan a trip to the cabin the first weekend I’m back.”
 

She nuzzled into his neck and summed up everything. “Nice.”

Later that week, at the state dinner’s cocktail reception, Stephen accepted a glass of water from a waiter when he noticed Patty. A determined political consultant had her cornered. He’d pursued her the entire year, and while he said he wanted a polling contract with the campaign, it was obvious he really wanted her.
 

Standing a good eight inches taller than the guy, she looked over him and silently mouthed to Stephen, “Save me!”
 

Stephen chuckled and shook his head.
 

“What’s so funny?”

He turned to the woman’s voice he recognized instantly. “Nothing, really. Good evening, Helen.”
 

“You look dashing in that tux.” She lightly touched his dinner jacket sleeve. It was a minor gesture, but considering they were in the middle of the White House and her fiancé was in the room, it was quite forward.
 

BOOK: A Political Affair
8.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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