The Senator's Daughter (8 page)

Her eyes widened. “That's so dishonest.”

He laughed. “This is how the real world of politics works. And before you feel too bad for them—you think they'd give me a check for a hundred thousand dollars without knowing the score? They do it for access. They'll go to the House members next and ask them to put it in the budget. We call these types of things the pork in the budget, and some of it gets through. We're not the only ones playing this game.”

“But why not take the high ground?” she whispered.

“Because the senator will never get reelected without money, and the next guy may never take the morning meetings. The next guy may never pass on the briefing paper about the babies in Guam to the senator and suggest he call the governor.”

“So you're the lesser of two evils.”

He shrugged.

She closed her eyes. She wasn't naive enough not to know about campaign contributions and the “chit” system in Congress, where favors were traded. She often analyzed what potential chits had passed through which hands when congressional members suddenly changed their votes on an issue. But witnessing it firsthand made it seem seedier. For some reason, she expected more from Alex, more from the senator with whom she shared her DNA.

Alex was staring at her. “You're disappointed in the senator for playing these games.”

She sighed. “I don't know the man. I'm not sure what to expect from him.”

“Then why is this upsetting to you?”

“I'm okay,” she said defensively. She didn't want to come across all Pollyanna.

“Your father wants to get to know you.”

“He has a funny way of showing it.”

He quirked a brow then gestured to the couch. Opening the cabinet door, he pulled out a bottle of wine. She shook her head. “I need to drive back.”

“Okay. Then how about I tell you a story.”

She looked at him wearily, but he pointed firmly to the couch, so she sat down. It would take three hours to get home and she could barely keep her eyes open now.

“I've known the senator for five years—he hired me right after his last campaign manager quit. You ask anyone in Washington and they'll call me a winner. A small-time one, but a winner nonetheless. I was working for Senator Graham at the time.”

“Senator Graham,” she repeated. “The Republican nominee for president?”

He nodded. “It was my ticket to the big time, but I made a bad call.”

He turned toward the window and stared at a partial view of the Capitol building outside. It was currently encased in wired scaffolding—repair work to restore the outer part of the rotunda.

“I told the senator that his wife was having an affair.”

Kat sat back. That was certainly not public knowledge and would be a blow to the now presidential candidate. Why was Alex trusting her with this information?

“I suspected something and decided independently to have the senator's wife followed so I could give him concrete proof. Turns out, he knew about it already and took offense at my initiative.”

“That's a hard call to make.”

He nodded. “I've replayed it a thousand times and realized that you don't mess with your boss's family. No matter how close I was to him, family lines should not have been crossed.”

She found herself drawn to his eyes, to the smoky darkness burning inside them.

“Senator Graham could have blacklisted me in Washington. My career would've been over if he had. But I heard this position was open and I took a chance. I came here and told Senator Roberts the truth about everything and begged him to take me in.”

“And he did,” she said softly.

Alex nodded. “Not only that—he put pressure on Senator Graham to keep quiet about me. People assumed I got a promotion. Aside from the two senators, you're the only person I've told.”

“Why did you tell me?”

“Because your father is a good man at heart. My job is to do his dirty work. Don't let what I do affect your opinion of him.”

Warmth bloomed in her heart. She wondered what it would be like if he pulled her into his arms. All day she'd looked at him as a reminder of what she didn't want in a man. But here he was, showing her how wrong she was. He was protecting her father, just like the little boy inside who longed to protect his mother.

“Senator Roberts offered me money.”

She hadn't planned on telling him or anyone else. It was all too embarrassing. In fact, she'd been up all night wondering whether she should quit the campaign. Finally, she'd settled on staying until the senator returned so she would have enough material to write some papers to appease Dean Gladstone. In what she'd witnessed today alone, she could write several fascinating commentaries on the trade-offs that occurred all the time in politics.

This morning she'd been convinced the IED bill was the wrong approach, but after listening to some of the constituent meetings, it became clear things were bad in Iraq and bound to get worse if they withdrew the troops. Now that they were in, could they really leave? What if the country was worse off than it had been?

Besides, she needed to meet her father in person. She'd waited too long to give up that opportunity.

Alex was staring at her.

“He wanted to buy me,” she clarified.

“Excuse me?”

She shifted on the couch. “Yesterday on the call, after he grilled me like I was on trial for fraud, he offered me money. I didn't fully understand what it was for, but I politely declined.”

“Are you sure you didn't misinterpret? It's not like he's denying that you're his daughter. What does he have to gain by paying you off?”

“There's not a lot of analysis required when a man says, ‘You know, if you're hard up, I can give you some money. I don't want people thinking my child is living in poverty.' It was like he was just waiting for his chance to say that, like he hadn't been paying any attention for the twenty minutes I'd been telling him about my life.”

Alex flinched. “I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it. He was probably as nervous as you were and just meant to ask if he could do anything to help.”

She sighed. “I appreciate you sharing that story, but I really should get going.”

“Why don't you stay the night? We rent a town house on Capitol Hill for staffers who have to go back and forth. It's cheaper than paying for hotel rooms. I have some meetings tomorrow that'll be more uplifting. Less...mafia-ish.”

She smiled at the last part. He did get it. She shook her head. “I need to go home.”

“I can ask one of the interns to go check on your mother.”

She looked up, touched by his consideration but also perturbed by the intrusion of privacy. Again.

She stood. “This has been an educational day, but I'd better get on the road if I want to avoid rush-hour traffic.”

He got up slowly. “Kat, we're a family around here. We take care of each other. It's not an imposition. You can call to tell her who it will be so it doesn't feel like a random stranger.”

Tears stung her eyes. It would be nice to take the night off. She was already exhausted, and the prospect of a three-hour drive didn't sound as appealing as spending a night in DC. She wondered whether Alex used the town house, too, or if he had his own place. They might have just shared a moment, but she'd seen so many sides of him. Which one could she trust?

“Yesterday you were lecturing me on pulling my own weight and today we're a kumbaya family?”

She sounded testier than she intended. Maybe it was the stress of the past two days. Or maybe it was the mixed signals Alex kept throwing her way that had her confused about where she stood with him.

“What's gotten into you?”

She stepped up to him. “You're what's gotten into me. Yesterday you went from being a white knight to a bear, then sent me flirty emails. Today you start out caring, then morph into a sleazy deal maker then switch to Mr. Understanding and Compassion. Can you pick a man so I can know who I'm dealing with?”

A slow smile spread across his lips. “What's your favorite kind?”

She took a step back, her stomach fluttering. “Excuse me?”

“Which Alex do you like best?” He was standing so close she could feel his chest rise and fall with every breath. “The Alex who saved a damsel in distress...”

She opened her mouth to protest that characterization of her, but all that came out was a squeak as he closed the meager distance between them.
Run, Kat, run.
He wasn't touching her, yet she could smell the whiskey on his breath, its spicy scent making her head light. She felt the steady rise and fall of his chest, could almost hear the heavy drum of his heart. Perhaps that was the pounding in her own chest.

“Do you like the Alex who bosses you around? Or do you like the one who couldn't stop staring at you yesterday? The one who had to physically leave his office so he'd stop finding excuses to come talk to you.”

She gasped. He stepped closer but didn't make a move to touch her. She stood as still as she could, afraid to move a muscle.

Bending his head, he touched his lips to her hair. “Tell me, Kat, which Alex is it that you like?”

The vibrations from his voice sent pulses through her entire body. Which Alex, indeed? There was the Alex who warmed her heart, the one who frustrated her and the one who made her want to run away from him as fast as she could.

“Are there more Alexes that I haven't seen?” Her voice sounded foreign to her. She heard him take a breath, the air tickling the sensitive skin on her neck.

He moved his lips and touched her ear. Every nerve in her body was on alert, telling her to get out of here, yet she stood rooted to the spot, waiting for whatever was coming.

He softly kissed the top of her ear. His gentleness was surprising. Every inch of him screamed of a man used to taking what he wanted. Except the Alex before her seemed to be tentative, asking permission at every step.

This was a mistake on so many levels. She couldn't get involved with a man who represented everything she hated. Lying, deceit, manipulation—he was a master at it. Not to mention the drama that would ensue at campaign headquarters. Her father already believed she was out to get something from him; what would he think of her if she started seeing his campaign manager two days after she came on board? And if this became another media
thing
,
her job at the university was as good as gone. There were so many reasons not to be with him. She lifted her arms to push him away, but once her hands were on his chest, she savored the feel of hard muscle beneath his shirt. Instead of pushing, she closed the remaining gap between them.

He made a sound deep in his throat and she lifted her head.

“Kat.”

He whispered her name with so much softness that the chains around her heart broke. She touched her lips to his, eager to feel the strength of the powerful man before her.

Her lips slid across his. She expected him—
no, wanted him
—to claim her mouth, needed him to pull her closer. He cupped her face in his hands. He kissed her so tenderly, it left her trembling. She was sure her legs would give way any second. As if sensing that, he placed a firm hand on her waist, holding her without forcing her close. It was unlike any kiss she'd ever experienced. It left her breathless, and it ended too soon. He rested his head on top of hers, holding her loosely, as if it was the most natural thing to do.

“This Alex I can love.”

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

He tensed. “Kat, I can't.”

The words cut through her.

She turned away, but he placed a hand on her shoulder. “I owe a lot to the senator, and he's asked that I look after you. I can't lie—I am attracted to you, but I don't do relationships. And you don't seem like the type of girl who dates someone just for fun.”

She whirled. “If you've figured that out, then what's all this, Alex? Why bring me close then push me away?” She'd meant to sound outraged but the hurt rang clear in her voice.
This isn't fair.
Since Colin, she hadn't been able to feel close to a man; fear kept her away. Alex was the first man since who'd made her feel safe—however briefly.

He ran his fingers through his hair. “You're right. I'm just not thinking. I'm being impulsive, something that's very unlike me. Since the second I saw that silly picture of you on TV, I haven't been myself.”

“Great. So what you're telling me is that none of the Alexes I've seen are real.”

He opened his mouth, but she held up her hand. “Your message has been received loud and clear, Alex. I'm not shiny enough to be worthy of standing at your side.”

She turned to grab her purse but he caught her arm.

“Kat!”

She glared at him, then looked pointedly at her arm. He let go of it like he was touching something hot and rubbed the back of his neck. “It's not you.”

She waited for the rest of the inevitable “it's me” speech.

“I'm not myself around you. I don't know what it is. I...I feel out of control when I'm with you.”

He walked over to the desk and poured himself a thumb of whiskey. He lifted the glass to his mouth but stopped short of drinking.

“It's okay, Alex. Just tell me.”

He set the glass down on the table with care.

“I hit a girl once.” His voice was thick, shoulders slumped. Her veins filled with ice. There must be more to the story. He wasn't the kind of man to hit a girl; he couldn't be. Seconds ticked by. Frozen, her feet wouldn't move, and even if they could, she didn't know whether to go to him or run as fast as she could out the door.

When he spoke again his voice was so soft, she had to step closer to hear him. “I was angry, and I did the one thing I swore I would never do. I was so out of control...”