Read The Senator’s Daughter Online
Authors: Christine Carroll
The Senator’s Daughter
Accolades for “Children of Dynasty”:
ROMANTIC TIMES 2005 REVIEWERS' CHOICE AWARD NOMINEE!
“Newcomer Christine Carroll has penned an exciting and romantic novel in CHILDREN OF DYNASTY. It is filled with suspense, sexy love scenes, and an adventurous ride into the corporate construction world. Ms. Carroll certainly has the beginnings of a very bright writing career ahead of her.”
âRomance Junkies
“An enjoyable tale, CHILDREN OF DYNASTY has a likeable hero and heroine, good dialogue, and a stirring romance.”
âRomance Reviews Today
FOUR STARS!
“Carroll has created a fascinating and cleverly woven plot.”
âRomantic Times BOOKclub Magazine
“CHILDREN OF DYNASTY is a satisfying romance with just a touch of mystery added.”
âAffaire de Coeur
“Get ready for a suspenseful ride when you read this steamy romance ⦔
âThe Romance Studio
“Fans will appreciate this strong tale in which the sins of the fathers impact their offspring.”
â
The Midwest Book Review
“With scintillating sexual tension and intrigue, and the fascinating backdrop of the California wine country, THE SENATOR'S DAUGHTER delivers.”
âColleen Thompson, Author of
HEAD ON,
and THE
SALT MAIDEN
“THE SENATOR'S DAUGHTER is a first-rate page-turner, featuring well-drawn characters and a wonderful sense of place. The California wine country is an irresistible backdrop for this story of passion and intrigue. I enjoyed it immensely.”
âSusan Wiggs, New York Times Best selling Author
“In THE SENATORS DAUGHTER, Christine Carroll has penned an exciting, romantic story that will keep you turning pages far into the night. A gorgeous heroine, hunky hero, sexy love scenes, wonderful setting, great writing, and thrills and chills â what more could a reader want?”
âPatricia Kay USA Today best selling author
Writing as Christine Carroll:
C
HILDREN OF
D
YNASTY
T
HE
S
ENATOR'S
D
AUGHTER
Writing as Linda Jacobs:
S
UMMER OF
F
IRE
R
AIN OF
F
IRE
L
AKE OF
F
IRE
DEDICATIONS:
This book is dedicated to my father,
Raymond William Heatwole
10/18/25â07/11/05
To my mother,
and always, to Richard.
Published 2007 by Medallion Press, Inc.
The MEDALLION PRESS LOGO
is a registered tradmark of Medallion Press, Inc.
If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment from this “stripped book.”
Copyright © 2007 by Christine Carroll
Cover Illustration by Adam Mock
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.
Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Typeset in Adobe Garamond Pro
Printed in the United States of America
10-digit ISBN: 1-9338363-0-X
13-digit ISBN: 978-1-933836-30-0
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
First Edition
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:
Thanks to my agent Susan Schulman, for her tireless and patient support, and to Medallion Press, their founder and editor, Helen Rosburg, and editor Christy Phillips.
And to my wonderful husband, Richard Jacobs, who read and reread this manuscript helping me find the work of the keyboard gremlins.
Two persons who are no longer with us were pivotal in making this book happen: the late Venkatesh Srinivas Kulkarni, author, teacher, and beloved friend, and the late Rita Gallagher, author, teacher, and woman of consummate style and grace.
Appreciation to all those who helped me with suggestions or just plain inspiration along the way: the students of the Rice University Novel Writing Colloquium, Marjorie Arsht, Kathryn Brown, Judith Finkel, Bob Hargrove, Elizabeth Hueben, Karen Meinardus, the late Joan Romans, Angela Shepard, Jeff Theall, and Diana Wade. The members of West Houston Romance Writers of America, and PASIC, the RWA Published Authors Special Interest Chapter, are a constant source of information and wellspring of enthusiasm.
Table of Contents
S
ylvia Chatsworth was a bitch.
Unfortunately, it was one thing to suspect it about yourself and another to hear it proclaimed publicly. Trapped in a bathroom stall at the hot new San Francisco club, known paradoxically as Ice, humiliation made her chest ache.
“Didn't you hear?” hissed an eager female. Sylvia recognized the voice, the daughter of one of the honchos at First California Bank. “Rory Campbell never cared a whit about an alley cat like Sylvia; he was just using her while moving in on his future wife.”
Sylvia's bronzed skin flushed; her scarlet nails sliced crescents in her palms. Rory had been married for ages, months anyway, but these cretins couldn't let it go.
It was all she could do not to rush out and start throwing punches and pulling hair like she was in fourth grade. Back then, she'd cooled her heels in detention for fist fighting when the boys said she had cooties ⦠another tidbit gleaned from gossip in the girls' room.
While the women outside the stall continued throwing verbal darts, Sylvia's vision of the elementary grades shifted to her preteen years when she had started what her Southern-bred mother called “maturing.” Ahead of the game, with well-formed breasts overflowing training bras, and ample red lips that suggested she was breaking the no-lipstick rule when she swore up and down she wasn't ⦠all earned her the ostracism of less-endowed female classmates.
And late-night crying sessions she made sure no one suspected.
Looking down at her strappy sandals, a match to her vermilion leather sheath, Sylvia realized the gossip wasn't idle. One look under the stall at the distinctive footwear and her attacker had to know who was in here.
Corinne ⦠that was her name ⦠sounded like so many people whose attitude had changed when Sylvia's father ran for the United States Senate. During the campaign, the press started following everything she did the way they had the daughters of several U.S. presidents.
If only she were anywhere else ⦠a rustic Napa Valley inn, walking among the redwoods ⦠all she wanted was out of the limelight.
“We ran into Lyle Thomas at the bar.” A different voice, not Walker's daughter.
“Do tell!” chimed in a third woman.
Corinne jumped back in. “I would never have believed it unless he'd told us himself. Lyle said he's meeting Sylvia for drinks and taking her to dinner. The poor SOB sounded happy about it.”
“Lyle and Sylvia?” inquired the third party. “He's way too nice a guy for her.”
“She's burned so many bridges,” the banker's daughter chuckled, “it's a wonder she doesn't leave town.”
Assistant District Attorney Lyle Thomas shot the cuffs of his Oxford shirt beneath his charcoal suit jacket and slid his elbow onto the bar top. The translucent glass with cerulean light beneath gave the effect of glacial ice.
He'd had a long day in court, putting away a slime-ball who'd murdered his own wife and baby girl. Yet, he felt invigorated rather than weary. For a boy raised dirt-poor in the farmlands of the San Joaquin Valley, he'd come a long way. Through law school to helping crime victims and their families see justice done, as well as developing the financial means to frequent a place like Ice.