Will cruised down I-95 in his Audi Roadster and shifted gears, trying his best to focus on the highway in front of him, though it was a challenge. Every time that his mind drifted to the events of that night he cursed aloud to himself. How the hell did that happen? Out of all the women he could have run into, why did it have to be Parker’s deputy campaign manager?
For a man known in his industry to be methodical, to strategize like a chess player who expertly shifted pawns, rooks, and knights around a board, Will Blake definitely had not anticipated this opening move.
He had told Tanya the truth. That night, he had come to the Hilton in Greenbelt to learn more about Parker. The instant that the Dupré campaign saw that it looked like the relative unknown was going to win the Democratic primary, Will had set aside his canapé and champagne glass and pulled out the dossier that his assistant had compiled on all of the candidates. The file on Parker was a little on the thin side and filled only with the essential details, like Parker’s twenty years as a college professor; a mention of his wife, Suzanne Parker, who was also a teacher; a printout of his mission statement from his web site; and several glowing articles about his mayoral campaign five years ago. Will knew this slight information wasn’t going to cut it. He’d have to see this man in person. He wanted to see how Parker worked a room and how people reacted to him. Will believed in order to defeat an adversary you had to understand his strengths and weaknesses.
It had taken almost a half an hour to get to the hotel from Dupré’s campaign headquarters in Annapolis. He’d planned to remain low key, fade into the background of the room, and just observe. He had tried to concentrate, telling himself to make mental notes of everything. But the instant he and Keisha had run into each other at the hotel door, all concentration faded.
Seeing her pretty young face marred with sadness had tugged at his heart strings. He had been enchanted by those watery, doe-like eyes and that pink, down-turned mouth set against skin the color of honey. Despite the fact that he didn’t know her, he had wanted to pick her up and comfort her, reassure her that everything was going to be fine. When she tried to walk away something told him to back off, to leave her alone so that she could quietly cry in a corner if she wanted to, but he couldn’t help himself. Will kept talking to her despite her obvious efforts to get out of their awkward encounter. Not one to harass a woman to get her attention, Will let her go, but his mind stayed focused on her the rest of the night, destroying his concentration and frustrating him.
When Will saw her again a couple hours later as he entered the hotel bar, he knew it was Providence. He had planned to head straight home to Annapolis after Parker’s huge celebration ended, but, at the last minute, decided to stop at the bar to grab a quick glass of wine before he started his drive. And there she was, looking more stunning and alluring than he remembered. She had literally let her hair down and had changed out of her constricting suit. But this time she was also surrounded by a group of guys who panted at her like slobbery, starving dogs and hovered over her like black ops helicopters.
Will had lied. He hadn’t come to her side just to rescue her. Some of it had been fueled by jealousy. Oh, hell no, he thought angrily as he watched the trio. There was no way he was going to let some chumps try anything on her. Will had restrained himself earlier, but if anyone was going to take her home tonight, it would be him!
And she seemed to be responding to him. Keisha kept licking her full lips as she spoke and nervously ran her hands along her flushed neckline. Her eyelashes fluttered as she pushed her hair back over her shoulders and she kept crossing and uncrossing those seductive legs. A student of human behavior after years in politics, Will knew the signs. Keisha was definitely attracted to him. He was playing it cool, but inside he felt the same way about her. Though he knew he wouldn’t and probably couldn’t bed her tonight, he certainly expected a soulful kiss based on the heavy undercurrent of lust that seemed to be flowing between them. He’d get her number and call her in a day or two. They’d go out on a few dates. Then he would have her.
But Tanya Starks had put the brakes on all that when she came barging in, stomping over to their table. Tanya was just as loud and belligerent as Will remembered her back in the 1990s when they were in their early twenties and both legislative aides on Capitol Hill. Back then, he had been able to ignore her “bull in a china shop” persona, but tonight he couldn’t. She had particularly pissed him off when she insinuated that he had tried to fool Keisha by not telling her about his job. Will could have probably defended himself better, but he wasn’t about to explain to Tanya that when you’re mentally undressing a person, exchanging résumés isn’t really what comes to mind. Besides, how was he supposed to know that Keisha was Parker’s deputy campaign manager? Keisha was barely…what…thirty, if that? How the hell did she get a position like that? When Will was her age, which was eight to ten years ago, he was a recent law school grad begging to be given some real responsibility on a congressional campaign. Was she some kind of wunderkind, a political genius? Why had he never heard of her before?
He shook his head. “Let it go, Will,” he said aloud as he pulled onto the side street that led to his cul-de-sac. “Forget about her,” he said. He yawned and glanced down at the digital clock on his dashboard.
It was well past 3 a.m. and most of his neighbors—young families and retirees—had turned in for the night hours ago. With the exception of the corner street lamps and one stray dog, the neighborhood was dark and completely deserted.
Will was used to seeing his neighborhood this way. In his line of work, especially during election years, he would often arrive home late after spending hours at some event or at a remote meeting that ran long. Will was grateful for his job and was happy to get a leading position in the campaign of an old family friend like Vincent Dupré, but he missed the quiet evening hours when he could just lie on the couch and watch a basketball game. He missed his home. He rarely got the chance to enjoy the two-story Tudor with its charming wrought iron gate and draping ivy.
Will had purchased it almost a year ago, despite his realtor’s warnings that it didn’t fit him. A single guy with a busy career like his would be much better off in a condo in some trendy neighborhood in D.C., she had argued. A house like this needed to be filled with people—not left vacant all the time. It was meant for a family. But he had stubbornly ignored her, thinking that if he met the right woman one day, he could fill the house with a family of his own.
As he drove, Will let himself imagine that right woman. She’d have to understand his drive and maybe be just as driven herself. She’d have to complement him; she’d be the “yin” to his “yang.” He’d want a partner that he felt just as comfortable lying in bed with at night as he would taking her to an important fundraiser luncheon during the day. Suddenly, an image of Keisha came to mind again. Keisha was in his field and holding so much power at a young age that she had to be driven. She was beautiful and intriguing and…
Will quickly shook his head. Enough, he thought.
Now that he knew Keisha worked for the opposition, all thoughts about her should be pushed aside. Forgetting about her was the only logical course. Usually Will was good at clicking some internal switch that allowed him to operate with reason, not emotion. But he was having a hard time doing that this time around. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw her face, that luscious mouth, and the full curve of her breasts. Hell, he could even smell her—a pungent scent of jasmine that had only whetted his appetite.
“Sleep it off,” he mumbled sternly to himself. He shifted uncomfortably on the leather seat, feeling himself harden at the thought of her. There were bound to be serious repercussions if he tried to pursue Keisha. Sex and politics mix like oil and water, Will thought as he turned the wheel of his Audi, preparing to pull into his driveway.
That was the last thought he had before he abruptly slammed on the brakes, making his car squeal to a halt. His seatbelt tightened as he jerked forward. Will gritted his teeth. He had barely missed hitting the black sports car that was parked in front of him. Will narrowed his eyes as he watched one of the car doors swing open.