She eyed her phone, abandoned on the secretary’s desk overlooking the window. She walked over to it, skimming the missed calls and voice mails. She flicked on the screen and looked at the e-mail icon.
She had a hundred e-mails.
She chewed the inside of her cheek, staring at the life waiting for her.
Just the thought of it sat like a weight on her chest. She had to stop procrastinating. It wasn’t like her. She’d always dealt with the truth, no matter how bad, head-on. So what was she doing?
And why?
She wanted to believe it was the arrangement with Miles and her impending nuptials that had her avoiding everyone back home, but now she wasn’t so sure. She couldn’t work up the energy to care. There were a thousand details to work out, but strategizing for her campaign held no appeal. Dealing with her father and his latest list of political problems didn’t call to her the way it normally did.
She was tired. Tired of him. Tired of the game.
But she didn’t know the reason.
She threw the phone back on the desk and walked out of the room without a backward glance.
Right now, all she wanted was to talk to Shane.
She’d figure out the rest. She always did.
She found him in the downstairs office on the phone, his brow furrowed in concentration as he listened to the caller. She propped herself on the wood frame and watched him.
Everything about him was powerful, from the authoritative way he spoke to the way he moved. She’d grown up around powerful men, but there was something different about Shane. It was like his leadership was innate. He didn’t have to force it. Or cultivate it. It was part of who he was.
Listening to him talk, it was clear he was involved in some sort of disagreement, but he was entirely calm. His voice level. Every statement he made rang with confidence and certainty.
She’d worked with enough politicians to know true leadership skills were a rare commodity. Most had to work on it. It had to be studied and learned. It took conscious effort.
But she’d bet Shane had never practiced a day in his life.
He wore power like a second skin.
He glanced up from his computer, catching her standing there. The hard, drawn lines of his face relaxed, his gaze lit up, and his lips curved into a smile that made her heart speed.
Cecilia blinked. Shocked. He was happy to see her.
The knowledge made her warm all over. She could become addicted to making Shane happy.
He waved her in and she sat on the couch to wait for him to be done.
Their gazes locked.
All that heat, all that chemistry sparked to life. Images of what they’d done last night filled her mind. The way his hands had been so hot on her. The sure way he touched her body. The way he’d made her come.
She shivered. Wishing with everything in her that he hadn’t stopped. Soberness changed none of the wildness she’d felt last night.
His eyes darkened. He told the caller he had an emergency and he’d call them back, hanging up without waiting for an answer.
She crossed her legs, sliding her hand along the couch arm. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“We were starting to go in circles, always a sign they need a break.” He got up from the desk and walked over to the entryway, closing the glass French doors and sealing them alone in the office.
“Is everything okay?”
He frowned. “We’re trying to iron out some issues on this city contract.”
“Is it serious?” She pointed to the now-closed doors. “I can leave and let you get back to work.”
“It is serious. But I don’t want you to leave. We’re at a stalemate.” He walked over to her with a lethal grace.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Later,” he said, joining her on the small love seat.
“You’re very good at that,” she said, loving the way his firm thigh pressed against hers.
“Good at what?”
She shifted, ever so subtly, wanting to be close to him. Wanting to feel that protected, intimate feeling from last night. “Leadership. I can see why you’re so successful.”
He shrugged, throwing one arm along the sofa’s back. “I never really thought about it.”
“Good leaders don’t have to,” she said. She wanted to cuddle in his arms. The desire was so unlike her, she didn’t know what to make of it.
“I’m not so sure I’m all that good, I just do what I have to.”
“Like I said before, that’s bullshit.” He looked away, and she knew she’d touched a nerve, but it didn’t stop her. “You didn’t accomplish what you have by chance. It doesn’t just happen to you. Why aren’t you proud of it?”
“Who says I’m not?” His voice turned hard, but to her surprise he put his hand on her knee.
“I do. You minimize it. And when anyone says anything about it, you act like you’re embarrassed.”
He stared out the window and Cecilia didn’t think he was going to answer, but then he sighed and squeezed her leg.
“I’m not embarrassed. It just doesn’t feel like an accomplishment. Before my dad died I didn’t have any plans beyond having a good time. I wasn’t a bad kid, just a slacker. I never thought beyond the next weekend and how much money I needed in my pocket.” He frowned, shaking his head. “When he died, everything was so desperate. I was in pure panic mode. Something just took over. I put my head down and bulldozed through every obstacle that came in my path. The first couple of years, I had three jobs, one of which was for my uncle Grady.”
He met her gaze, his green eyes flat. “He works for me now. Some bullshit family job pushing paper, because I owe him.”
She swung her leg. “Do you feel guilty?”
“Not guilty . . . Just . . . I don’t know.” He looked away again. “Responsible. His was the first company I bought out. I made it clear if he didn’t sell he’d end up going out of business because there was no way he could compete with me.” He smiled scornfully. “I was nice about it, but the gist was there.”
“Why couldn’t he compete?”
He shrugged. “I was better, more competent, more competitive, and more desperate than he could ever be. We lived and worked in the same neighborhood and he started losing guys to me, and bids. I didn’t mean to put him out of business, but my family wasn’t even close to being financially secure. Once I started I couldn’t stop. Even now, I see the numbers in my bank accounts, but I always feel like I’m one step away from disaster.”
She wanted so badly to reach out and touch him but stopped herself. Instead, she said in a soft voice, “But you did it. You saved them. They’re all successful adults. You did a good job.”
“I don’t know. It still doesn’t feel like enough.”
“I think that’s habit. To everyone else, you’re a hero.”
He laughed. “I’m sure they’d disagree.”
She was absolutely sure they wouldn’t but didn’t say that. Nor did she push anymore, her instinct telling her to back off.
He rubbed his palm over her thigh, sending a shiver of awareness tingling over her skin. “How do you feel?”
“Shockingly good.” She surprised herself by covering his hand with hers.
Their fingers twined. So natural and right, she could only stare at his long, tan fingers entwined with her small, paler ones.
“That’s the advantage of throwing it all up.”
She flushed, covering her face with her free hand. “I’m so humiliated. I wish you wouldn’t have seen that.”
“Why?”
“Because.” She shook her head. “I was messy and gross, and that’s not how I want you to see me.”
“I kind of liked it.”
Her head jerked up. “Are you crazy?”
“It makes you real, Cecilia. Human.” He tugged her hand, and she scooted forward. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you look so beautiful.”
The air heavy with things unsaid, she frowne
d. “I’m not sure thank you is the appropriate thing to say here.”
“I don’t care about you being appropriate.”
She tilted her head to the side. “You don’t, do you?”
“Not even a little bit.” He tugged again, sending her practically into his lap. His lips covered hers before she could protest.
And just like that he sucked her in.
She kissed him back. Her tongue stroking his, bold and demanding.
Wanting him. Needing him. He deepened the kiss, and she moaned against him. Wanting to crawl into him.
He pulled away, his lips hovering over hers. “It’s time to tell me about this stupid fucking idea of yours.”
Cecilia shifted away, stood abruptly, and began to pace around the room. She wore skinny jeans and a sleeveless flowy top, and ballet flats. The suits hadn’t made an appearance since her first day here.
She took three laps around the room before she finally said, “I idolized my dad growing up. All I ever wanted was for him to be proud of me.” She gave Shane a wry smile. “Mitch was the opposite. He couldn’t care less, so of course everything came easy to him. But I wasn’t that lucky; I had to work. While Mitch didn’t even have to crack a book to get an A, I had to study for hours.”
Cecilia and Mitch barely had a passing acquaintance with each other. It was hard for Shane to picture them young and in the throes of sibling rivalry. He narrowed his eyes as she lapped around the room again. “Go on.”
“There was only one area where I had Mitch beat. I loved politics while he hated them. For as long as I can remember, a career in public service is all I ever wanted.” She sat down on the chair farthest from him and folded her hands in her lap. “Did you know I went to law school too?”
He nodded. It had been a footnote in her file.
Another small smile. “Most people don’t, because I wasn’t close to being a superstar like Mitch. And I didn’t do it to practice. I did it to understand the system. I didn’t even bother taking the bar exam. The day after I graduated, I started working for my father. Most people don’t realize my dad is a self-made man. He’s brilliant in the same way Mitch is. When he met my mom he was a poor scholarship kid.”
Shane didn’t think marrying into old money qualified as “self-made,” but he wasn’t about to debate the semantics. That’s how Cecilia saw him, and that’s what mattered.
She sliced a hand through the air. “Anyway, I might have been his daughter, but he didn’t believe in free rides. I worked my way through the ranks, starting as the coffee girl. And I did it all. Worked my ass off to make sure I was the best at every single task until nobody could dispute my dedication or my brains. I sucked up every single bit of knowledge I could with one motivation.” She held up an index finger. “I wanted to run for office. And every time I’d get discouraged, or upset, this one goal got me through it. Helped me focus.”
Her expression lined with distress, she took a deep breath.
Shane crooked a finger. “Come here, Ce-ce.”
She sucked her bottom lip through her teeth, looking at the seat she’d vacated next to him.
She got up and walked toward him. Just as she was about to sit down she veered off, pacing once again around the room.
On her next lap around he caught her wrist and held her still. “What are you afraid of?”
Her eyes clouded, turning more gray than blue. “I don’t want you to hate me.”
It was an honest, vulnerable answer. So unlike the woman he’d believed her to be, that his chest squeezed. And then it hit him. Under the balls-to-the-walls, take-no-shit career woman—Cecilia Riley craved approval. He stroked a thumb over the soft skin on the underside of her wrist. “That’s not going to happen.”
The fine bones in her hand flexed. “You don’t know that.”
“I do.” He tugged on her wrist. “Now, come sit.”
Skittish as a rabbit, she sat down next to him.
He entwined their fingers and spoke in a calm tone he knew would sooth her. “Go on.”
The muscles in her throat worked as she swallowed hard. “After his scandal, it occurred to me that everything I’d ever achieved was for him. I’d done nothing for myself. Everything I did, my life, my career, my contacts, were all because of him. Every time he skirts responsibility for a mistake it makes him more arrogant. More sloppy. Eventually he’ll screw up and when he goes down, I’ll go down with him. I’d forgotten.”
When she didn’t continue, he nudged. “Forgotten?”
“That I’m weak.”
He scoffed. “That’s not a word I’d ever use to describe you.”
She stared at the floor for a very long time, so closely, as though she studied the grains of wood under her feet. “Nobody knows this, and I’m trusting you.”
“Hey,” he said, taking her chin and turning her face toward him. “You can tell me anything.”
Her brow furrowed, creasing in concentration. “I’m starting to believe that.”
“That’s because it’s true.”
She glanced away, turning her head. He let her go, understanding she needed the illusion of privacy to speak what was on her mind. “I made inquiries, after the scandal. In Washington, I looked . . .” She lowered her voice. “For another job.”
He pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. “I see.”
“I don’t even think I was serious. I did it for reassurance. To gain a sense of security about my future. Only everyone assumes I’m my father’s lackey. He keeps me behind the scenes, so nobody really knows the things I’ve accomplished on his behalf.”
Expression turning hard, she shook her head. “You know how he skated through that whole blackmail fiasco virtually unscathed?”
“Yeah, it was pretty miraculous.”
She pointed to her chest. “That was me. I orchestrated the whole thing. And that’s not all I’ve done. You’d be shocked at the things I’ve handled without anyone being the wiser.”
The senator’s media campaign had been impeccable after the scandal. Anything that could have gone his way did. Within a month everyone had forgiven him, brushing over any indiscretion with the careless ease of a twenty-four-hour news cycle.
It was impressive, but Shane wasn’t sure what it had to do with Cecilia’s running for office.
She exhaled a long, hard breath. “I came back home and spent the weekend holed up in my town house and came face-to-face with the truth: in that world, I’m nothing without my dad.”
“Cecilia,” he said, his voice taking on a sharp edge. “To quote you, ‘that’s bullshit.’”
Her head jerked back as though he’d slapped her. “But it’s not. It’s honest. It forced me to take action. To stop living my life for him. I need to do this. For me. It’s what I’ve always wanted and I’m not going to fail. I refuse.”
He could see the determined tilt of her chin, that spark of defiance in her storm-blue eyes. Arguing the point now would be a fruitless endeavor. He sighed. “And I suppose this is how Miles Fletcher comes in?”
She nodded, squeezing his fingers. “Please don’t think I’m awful.”
How had he missed this? This desire to please and be approved of? “Just tell me what’s happening and we’ll figure out a way to fix it.”
Her expression flashed with gratitude before dimming. “There’s no other way. It doesn’t assure a victory, but it helps. Without marrying him, I’m virtually guaranteed to lose.”
“You don’t know that,” he insisted, having an impossible time understanding how she could even consider it. “This isn’t the eighteen hundreds, Cecilia. For fuck’s sake, there are gays in both the senate and the house.”
“But you know what they’re not?”
Even though he already knew, he shook his head.
She blew out a breath. “Single.”
“I can’t see how an entire campaign could rest on your marital status. That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not, but the other factors aren’t
things I can control. I’m too young, a woman, and I’ve had a hard time garnering support from the party.”
“Why?”
She shrugged, tugged her hand away and studied her nails. “You didn’t think you’re the only person who thinks I’m an ice queen, did you?”
He winced. How many times had he thrown that barb at her—casually, almost cruelly, over the last nine months? In the handful of times he’d seen her, more than a couple.
“But I know,” she said, her voice taking on a plea. “I know I can change their minds, I just need practice. I’ve always been behind the scenes, and that’s where being cool under pressure is what works. In time, given the right opportunity, I’ll gain my footing.”
What a complicated mess. It didn’t make sense to him. But he was sure about one thing: Cecilia believed wholeheartedly she needed to marry Miles Fletcher. In her mind, this guy was the path to fulfilling her lifelong dreams.
Shane thought it was crap, but he was smart enough to know now wasn’t the time to talk her out of it. “How does Miles help? Besides being a warm body?”
She stood up and started pacing again and Shane didn’t even attempt to stop her.
She ran a hand through her hair. “He’s very well respected within the party. He also has deep pockets and relationships with some key lobbyists.”
Shane narrowed his eyes. “What’s in it for him?”
She stopped on a dime. “Excuse me?”
“You said there was nothing physical between you, so what does he gain out of this?”
Her brow furrowed. “What does that matter?”
Shane sat forward, putting his elbows on his knees. Something wasn’t adding up here and it wasn’t like Cecilia to gloss over details. “You don’t even know, do you?”
She bit her lower lip. “I didn’t ask.”
He tilted his head to the side. “Let me get this straight. You have a file on me that includes almost every single detail of my life, but it didn’t occur to you to ask a basic question about the guy you’re supposed to marry?”
Her whole body grew rigid, and while she was dressed casually, she may as well have just slipped into one of her severely tailored business suits. “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t care.”
The Winner Takes It All Page 17
