Yours in Scandal

by Layne, Lauren

  He looked steadily down at her. “For how long?”

  She sighed and squeezed her wet bun in agitation, trying to figure out how to make him understand, without letting him understand everything.

  “I like you,” she said quietly. “These past few nights have been . . .”

  “Hot?”

  She smiled. “Definitely. But I’m not looking for anything other than this.”

  “Hooking up, you mean.”

  “Come on,” she pleaded. “You’re going to be the governor. Eventually, you’ll need someone who fits into that life. That’s not me. It’s never going to be me.”

  “I’m not governor yet.”

  “Okay,” she said slowly. “So how do you see this going in the meantime?”

  “I don’t know,” he said tiredly. “I guess I don’t like that my own assistant and my closest friends can’t know I’m dating someone.”

  “I know,” she said quietly. “But you know how these things go. It starts with Darlene. And then the interns put two and two together and tell their friends. Or one of your bodyguards tells his wife, who tells her book club, and someone at book club knows a blogger, who knows a journalist. Before we know it, everyone knows that the mayor is sleeping with his event planner. It would be a disaster.”

  “For which one of us?”

  “Both.” Your career, my heart.

  She looked at him, silently begging him to understand what she couldn’t say. That a woman whose boobs were all over the internet, who’d once done nightly shots like the agave plant was going out of style, who still loved dancing all weeknight long did not a future Mrs. Davenport make.

  He tensed his jaw, but she noticed he didn’t contradict her. Instead he went tiredly back to his chair and sat down.

  She came around to his side of the desk, her fingers brushing against his jaw, feeling it tighten beneath her palm, though he didn’t pull away. Nor did he resist when she slowly lowered to his lap, her legs straddling his.

  “I can leave if you want,” she murmured, pressing her lips to the underside of his jaw, dragging kisses along the slight scratch of his afternoon stubble. “I don’t have to tell you that I’m not wearing much of anything under this trench coat. I don’t have to show you . . .”

  His hands found her hips on a groan. “Adeline—”

  Robert’s desk phone rang.

  His eyes darted to the side, then he reached out to hit a button, before glancing back at her. “It’s Darlene.”

  “Answer it,” she said gently, knowing and respecting that this was a part of his career, and that if he climbed the ranks like she suspected he would, it would only get more intense, more constant. And that there was no better man for the job.

  He hesitated only a moment more before hitting a button. “Yeah.” His tone made it clear that the interruption better be worthwhile.

  Darlene’s next words met that challenge and then some. “Mr. Mayor. The governor is here to see you.”

  Adeline went completely still, and completely cold, for reasons that had nothing to do with her damp clothes and wet hair.

  The mayor’s reaction was equally surprised. “How the hell was that not on my calendar?”

  “I didn’t know,” Darlene said, sounding flustered. “Nobody told me, nobody called . . .”

  Slowly, stiffened by shock, Adeline climbed off the mayor’s lap, looking around.

  “He says he needs to see you. Now,” Darlene emphasized.

  Robert dropped his head back against his chair, squeezing his eyes shut as he rubbed his forehead.

  Adeline looked around the room in panic. She knew her father. She knew that in his mind, someone else’s schedule was never as important as his. There was no chance he’d leave without seeing the mayor.

  And there was no chance she could leave without seeing him.

  She couldn’t move. Didn’t know where to move to.

  Robert stood and gently grabbed her arm, trying to pull her toward the back of his office.

  Her legs wouldn’t work.

  “Addie,” he said sharply when she didn’t move. “You can go out this way.” He pointed to a discreet door she’d never bothered to notice before now. “It’ll put you in a back hallway, and someone from my detail can point you to my private quarters.”

  She was flooded with relief and started to step forward when, all of a sudden, she realized he wasn’t questioning her odd behavior. He was every bit as tense as she was. Both of which could be explained by him not wanting the governor to know he was entertaining in his private offices, and yet . . .

  She stared at Robert. “You called me Addie.”

  He met her gaze steadily, and a dam seemed to break inside her head as more crucial details swept over her.

  The fact that he’d picked her out of hundreds of event planners. The way he’d shown a personal interest in her from the very start, even urging her to share dark secrets. The unnecessary dropping by her office. The surprise on his face when she’d mentioned her mother.

  And when she’d freaked out about him running for governor, he hadn’t found her reaction unusual—hadn’t questioned it at all. And just now, when she’d told him she’d never be First Lady of New York material, he definitely hadn’t protested.

  Because he knew. He knew she was Addie Brennan.

  They continued to stare at each other.

  “How long?” she finally asked.

  He didn’t pretend ignorance. “Always. Since the very beginning.”

  Her heart shattered, just as there was a persistent knock at his door. She flinched. “Please,” she said, “I can’t—I don’t want to see him.” Adeline wasn’t sure she could stomach her father on her best of days, and this was far from that.

  He nodded in understanding and opened the back door of his office. She slipped through, but he reached out and grabbed her hand. “Wait for me,” he implored. “So we can talk.”

  She shook her head.

  He squeezed her fingers, his eyes pleading. “Please.”

  Adeline wanted to tell him that he didn’t deserve a chance to explain himself. He’d been lying this whole time, and he didn’t deserve her.

  It was the last realization that did it.

  She’d been so focused on not being good enough for him, it had never dawned on her that she deserved the very best, too. She deserved honesty. Loyalty.

  Answers.

  Adeline pulled her hand away. “I’ll wait.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Thursday, November 5

  She didn’t have to wait long. Or maybe she’d simply lost track of time, because it seemed only minutes before the mayor quietly opened the front door and stepped into the living room where Adeline sat.

  His tense shoulders seemed to sag in relief when he saw her, though instead of coming to her, he dropped onto the couch across from where she was sitting, looking as exhausted as she felt.

  Adeline broke the silence. “What did he want?”

  “What he always wants. To bluster. Intimidate.”

  Adeline had noticed that Robert almost always erred on the side of political correctness. He rarely spoke bad of anyone, publicly or privately. That he seemed less than enamored with her father was a relief. She didn’t think she could stomach it if they’d been cut of the same cloth, or even allies. He could be saying what he thought she wanted to hear, but Adeline didn’t think so. The irritated disgust in his voice sounded genuine.

  “He heard you were running against him?” she guessed.

  “He’s been angling for months to get me to admit it one way or the other. With the mayoral election behind us, I guess he thought he was owed an answer once and for all.”

  “Did you give him one?”

  “I did. I told him he’d find out if and when I decided to make an official announcement. He thought he was due a courtesy. I said I’d start showing him courtesies when he started showing them to me, and showing up unannounced wasn’t a strong start. He got pissed and left
. The end.”

  “Does he know? About me? That I’m in New York with a new name, or that you and I are . . . connected?”

  Robert shook his head. “No. Or at least he didn’t mention it, and knowing him, if he knew, he would have.” He leaned forward. “Okay, I’ve got to ask. How can he not know? How can he not know where his only daughter is—who his only daughter is?”

  “I haven’t spoken to him in years. And even before that, our exchanges weren’t exactly what you’d call familial. But then, you already know that.”

  His gaze locked on hers. “I know what the media said. I also know firsthand the press doesn’t always get it right.”

  She smiled a flat smile. “No, they got it exactly right. I doubt much of what you read was made up. Exaggerated, maybe. But the topless scandal, the partying, getting kicked out of boarding school . . . all true.”

  Adeline expected him to flinch, or at least look disappointed, but his expression never changed.

  “What?” she challenged, when he didn’t respond. “No questions?”

  “I only want to know what you want to tell me.”

  Adeline snorted. “I can assure you that isn’t much. There’s plenty you didn’t tell me.”

  “Plenty we didn’t tell each other,” he pointed out.

  “Don’t,” she said, holding up a finger. “Don’t sit there and act like you and I committed the same crime. Me not telling you about my crappy youth does not excuse you using me.”

  She expected him to deny it, but he merely nodded. “I know.”

  “Why?” she said, relieved that her voice was steady. “Actually, no, back up. How? How did you know who I was?”

  “My campaign manager figured it out. It was his idea to get close to you.”

  She felt slightly nauseous at the confirmation that their entire relationship had been built on a lie from the very start. That she’d been so clueless. “To what end?”

  Robert exhaled and sat back. “I need a drink. Want one?”

  She wanted answers more, but figured maybe they’d go down easier with a cocktail. “Sure.”

  He poured them each a splash of whisky from the decanter on his sidebar, not bothering to put ice in either glass. He tossed the entire contents of one of the glasses back. He refilled it and then came back to Adeline, handed her the other glass, and sat.

  “Your father’s an asshole. I know it, my team knows it. There’s been talk for years that he’s not the esteemed gentlemen he presents himself to be, but we’ve never been able to get even a whisper of proof. The women, the drug use, the temper . . . all conjecture. Not a single person’s ever stepped forward to confirm a single rumor on the record.”

  “And, what, you thought I’d be that person?”

  “The bad blood between you and your father during the last election is no secret. The fact that you took a different name sort of confirmed you weren’t exactly clamoring to align yourself with the man.”

  “No,” she said curtly. “I am not. But I changed my name for a reason—to get as far away from that world as possible. Not just from my father, but from the girl I used to be. How could you possibly interpret that to mean I’d want to elaborate on the worst days of my life with a total stranger?”

  “We didn’t,” Robert said. “Martin—I,” he clarified, as though forcing himself to take accountability, “knew you wouldn’t simply spill your guts to the mayor. But to a friend . . .”

  She expected it, but the verbal blow still took her breath away. “Wow.” She took a sip of the drink. “One of the oldest tricks in the book, and I didn’t see it coming. Was sleeping together part of the plan, too, or just an unexpected bonus?”

  “Addie.” He broke off, looking frustrated. “Or Adeline—which do you prefer?”

  “You don’t get to call me either,” she snapped. “Honey trapping, Mr. Mayor? Really?”

  “Damn it. No! I was never intending to extort you, just—”

  “Just take down my father by way of me.”

  He blew out a breath. “It was wrong. I knew it was wrong the second Martin brought it up, but he’d already scheduled that initial meeting with you. I swear to God, I was going to just politely send you on your way, none the wiser.”

  “Why didn’t you? Why’d you have to—” She sucked in a breath and stood up, embarrassed by the memory of that first meeting and how much she’d liked him. “You know the worst part?” she asked, pacing around his living room. “When I showed up that first day, I was actually braced for this. I thought there’s no way it could just be a coincidence that the mayor of New York would hire the daughter of the governor of New York. But you pulled it off. Like a fool, I left that meeting thinking I was just a really good event planner, and that you were none the wiser on my real name.”

  He stood as well. “You are a good event planner.”

  She whirled around, the tears she’d been successfully holding back stinging the corners of her eyes. “There are lots of good event planners. Why couldn’t you have picked one of them? You said you were going to send me on my way, so why didn’t you?”

  Why couldn’t you have just let me go?

  “I meant to,” he said, starting to reach for her, then letting his hands drop to his sides. “I did. But then you walked in, and . . . damn it, Adeline, I liked you. You intrigued the hell out of me the way I haven’t been intrigued by a woman in a really long time. And I just . . . I liked being around you.”

  Adeline snorted. “Right. And if I just happened to tell you about my whole messy past and hand over details to destroy my father’s campaign, then that was a convenient bonus to getting laid?”

  “I’m not going to pretend I didn’t want you to confide in me, but it stopped being for political reasons a long time ago. I swear to you, after I began to fall for you, I only ever wanted Adeline to confide in me, Robert. Not Addie Brennan to dump her secrets on the mayor.”

  After I began to fall for you . . .

  Her heart leaped at the words, but she kept her brain focused on the realities of the situation. “That’s just it,” she said quietly. “Adeline Blake intrigued you. You took Adeline Blake to lunch. You hired Adeline Blake as your event planner. There’s a whole other side to me that you don’t know—”

  “But I do,” he interrupted, reaching out for her again. “I don’t know exactly why you changed your name, and I won’t ask. But you’ve been telling me these past few weeks that I don’t know you, and I’d bet anything you’ve been terrified I’d vanish the moment I learned your real name. Am I right?”

  Her lips parted as she realized he was right. She’d carefully protected her heart, thinking that Robert Davenport wouldn’t come within a mile of her if he knew her real identity . . .

  “I’ve known the whole time,” he said, palms gliding up her arms, over her shoulders until he cupped her face. “I’ve known you’re Addie Brennan. And I’m still here.”

  “If you know, then you must also know it would never work,” she whispered. “The press, my father, the voters—”

  “Aren’t here,” he finished for her, brushing his lips over hers. “It’s just us, Adeline.”

  He pulled back, his gold eyes looking into hers, the air around them seeming to vibrate in anticipation of her response.

  As she looked into his face, she realized that this was the first time she was seeing him as he truly was—not a mayor, not her father’s political rival, not the enemy. Just a man who’d come to mean everything to her.

  A man who was standing here wanting her—the good and the bad parts of her. A man who’d known her flaws the entire damn time and had never once walked away.

  There had never been a web, she realized. He’d never been trying to catch her, to trap her.

  He’d merely been waiting for her to trust him, thinking she was worth the wait.

  And she was, she realized, letting the last of her insecurities slip away. She was worth the wait. She was worthy of this man, just as she was.

  Her
hands lifted to his chest, her fingers hooking into the lapel of his jacket as she pulled him closer. “Addie. My name is Addie.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Thursday, November 5

  Robert’s smile was the first seduction.

  Slow and triumphant, it was the smile of a man who was about to devour something he’d been craving for years.

  “Addie.” Her name, said in a gravelly voice, was the second seduction.

  He eased her to him, the expensive scent of him—leather and whisky and man—washing over her. The third seduction.

  The fourth seduction took her breath away. Robert’s hands lifted to her hair, fingers tugging out the pins of her bun, gently releasing the still-damp strands. He set the pins on a side table and ran his hands through her hair, seeming to relish the way the waves fell around her shoulders.

  His head bent nearer. Lips hovering just above hers. Claiming. The fifth seduction.

  His lips were firm and insistent, his tongue flirting with her bottom lip until she capitulated, opening to this man who had the power to hurt her, yes, but also the ability to make her feel the way nobody ever had.

  Addie melted all the way into him, slipping her arms into the sides of his suit jacket, hugging him closer to her, taking comfort in his size. His strength. His warmth.

  His lips trailed up to her ear as his hands slid downward, over her hips. “Are you really not wearing anything under this trench coat?”

  She let out a surprised laugh. She’d forgotten about her seduction plan. He, apparently, had not. “Not nothing,” she said teasingly, her hands slowly pulling his shirttail out of his pants.

  His hands moved upward again, a little less steady now as they went for the knot of her coat.

  She playfully pushed his hands aside. “Fair is fair, Mr. Mayor.”

  Slowly, deliberately, holding his gaze, Addie took her time undressing the mayor. She started with the suit jacket, easing it off his broad shoulders. Tossing it onto the back of the chair. She repeated the process with his tie, tugging the blue silk loose and hesitating only a moment before tossing it on top of the suit jacket.