When Chemistry Wins (The Dark Horse Trilogy Book 1) (2 page)

The trick was not getting caught covertly supporting Joshua Payne. In fact, Hunter’s reconnaissance that night was part-Hall, part-Payne. The biggest problem, however, wasn’t avoiding capture. It was not letting his brain melt from asinine conversations erupting around him every time someone thought of a witty comment. Or whenever the governor stood on his kingly perch and imparted his great wisdom about what he would do with his next four years.

“Oh, you graduated this year? How wonderful!”

That voice belonged to a woman in a purple gown, speaking with a… Hunter did a double-take. It was the governor’s daughter, Kerri Mitchell. He could recognize her anywhere. She was in a million “wholesome family photos,” including on bus stop benches and on the sides of the same buses. Not to mention the campaign commercials that aired during election season.

Difference was… Kerri Mitchell was much more beautiful in real life than she was on the side of some bus.

Tall. A healthy tan that said she preferred to stimulate herself outdoors rather than being cooped up inside the Governor’s Mansion all day. Long, wavy, dark hair that shone beneath the chandelier lights and stroked that soft skin. Her jawline was strong and attractive, unlike most women he had dated before. This was not even taking into account her black and purple halter dress hugging her chest, her hips … Hunter looked away before he could be caught staring.

Still, she was the most interesting person in the room. It didn’t take much effort to accomplish that, but Hunter wouldn’t denigrate her for it.

As soon as the woman in the purple gown departed, Hunter saw his opening and approached the governor’s daughter.

“Excuse me,” he said, instantly struck by the disapproving Mitchell glare he received. The same one he saw during every political debate Raymond participated in.
Well, guess that means she’s really his daughter.
Too bad. Terrence’s campaign manager would love to have that in his arsenal of political smears. “I don’t suppose you know where the bathroom is?”

What a dumb comment!
Hunter, who was usually much smoother than this, regretted his words. However, Kerri wrinkled her nose, not in disdain, but with…laughter?

Her voice pealed throughout the ballroom as she threw her head back and cracked up like glass after a soprano’s solo. “You’re funny!” Hunter stepped back as he saw a smile bloom above the governor’s daughter’s jaw. “Asking the woman who lives here if she knows where the bathroom is… real nice. Who are you, a reporter? Or do you want to flirt with me that badly?”

Wasn’t expecting that kind of a bite.
Hunter liked it. “To be honest, I came to flirt.”

Kerri crossed her arms and cocked her own flirty eyebrow. This was almost too good to be true. “Did you want to flirt with me because I’m the governor’s daughter, or because I’m the only woman under thirty in this room?”

“You make it sound like both isn’t a possibility.”

“Shameful. You’re not even trying at this point.” Her words were laced in spice, but the grin on her face said she enjoyed this refreshing banter. “I bet you came here just to flirt with me.” Kerri put her hand behind her ears and pretended to listen for the right answer.

Hunter had to keep his laughter to himself, unlike Kerri who started to giggle again. He hadn’t expected Governor Mitchell’s daughter to be this clever… unlike her father, who thought he was clever but constantly made an ass of himself. Like the time he called the president’s wife Lashelle instead of Michelle. “On the contrary, I came here to see politics in action.”

The look on Kerri’s face relaxed into disappointment.
Oh, no, I brought up the P word.
“Yes, politics,” she said. “You mean you came here to donate to my father, huh?”

“No, I’m not here to donate to anyone.” At least he could say he was telling the truth. “Call me someone who is interested in learning about local politics.”

“You came to the wrong place, then. You won’t learn anything here. This ballroom is an echo chamber of the same opinion.”

Funny, Hunter could say the same thing about his house. “I’m sorry to hear that. But it sounds like you don’t hold many of the same opinions. Perhaps if you said something loud enough, it would bounce around the room for a bit.”

Kerri looked askance at Hunter, as if she was not sure what to think of him yet.
The feeling is mutual.
Growing up in politics, Hunter knew that the children of career politicians either became mini-thems or rebelled against their parents. But if the latter happened, it usually happened before graduating college. What was Kerri willingly doing here if she had another life to get to, and she didn’t agree with her father’s politics? This night finally became interesting enough to keep his attention.

“I gave up trying to do that a long time ago.” Kerri did not frown, although her voice betrayed her disappointment. “And you? If you’re not interested in donating, why are you here?”

Hunter glanced over his shoulder to make sure none of the nosy peons were eavesdropping. “Call me curious. I like to hear about the angles someone can bring to the table. Even if I don’t think I’ll agree with them, I still give it a shot.”

“So you haven’t decided who to vote for yet?”

“You could say that.” Even though Governor Mitchell was a distant third after Payne and Hall, he wasn’t about to admit it to the state’s First Daughter. “And what about
you?
Thinking of going into the family business?”

“Hmph.” Kerri turned away, facing the great windows overlooking the gardens doused in twilight. The setting sun cast a red and purple glow over the young woman, bathing her in some of Hunter’s favorite hues. That wasn’t the only warmth in the room. Was it getting hot in there? “That’s the problem with this whole charade. Calling it the family
business.
Politics shouldn’t be business. I may not be interested in how it works, but I know that much.”

She’s like that, huh?
Meeting a woman not drinking the political juice was refreshing. Most of the women involved in Hunter’s life thus far loved it a little too much. Hard to avoid when he was often involved with his father’s campaign. His favorite ex-girlfriend was a county campaign head. Great sex, not so great conversation. “What do you know about your father’s opponent?” This should be good.

Kerri abandoned the sunset to give Hunter a wry smile. “You mean Terrence Hall? I know that my father is more scared of him than he lets on. The first opponent to have that high of an approval rating in thirty years? Of course, my father also thinks he‘ll win. I admit, I don’t know much more than that. The whole thing gives me a headache.”

“So you’ve never met his son? I hear he’s about your age.”

“No.” Kerri scoffed. “Why do you ask? You trying to set me up with him?”

“Not at all.”

“Well, good. I could only imagine how that would go over with my parents. And his.”

For some reason that stung Hunter right in the gut. “A regular Romeo and Juliet story. Shakespeare would be proud.”

“Oh, please, don’t talk to me about Shakespeare.” At least Kerri laughed at the sentiment. “I spent enough of college reading and dissecting the Bard.”

“That so?”

“This may shock someone as politically minded as you, but I majored in English. Double majored, actually.”

“What was the other?”

“French.”

So she’s smart?
And what was this about him being “politically minded?” Did Kerri forget where they were that night? Not that he blamed her for wanting to talk about anything else. Hunter knew that feeling quite well. So well that Kerri’s aversion inspired him to be bolder that night. “You want to get out of here then?”

Though she was taken aback by the question, Kerri still remained close. “Excuse me?”

Hunter pointed out the window, where the sun had set to the point that darkness now swamped the gardens. “I’ve always wanted to see the gardens of the Governor’s Mansion. Care to give me a tour?”

Kerri turned her eyebrow and lips down, but it was not just her suspicion that made Hunter wonder if he was too fast, too soon.
She barely knows you, idiot.
He wouldn’t blame Kerri if she took that as something beyond him wanting a “tour of her bushes.” Hunter had to clap his mouth shut to keep from laughing over that one.

When he refocused on the lovely young lady before him, the corners of Kerri’s lips were raised in mischief. Just that look – the look of a woman getting ready to strike before Hunter had the chance to make the first move – had him sweating under his tight collar.

“You want to see the garden, huh?” Kerri snorted. “All right.” She stepped away, but looked over her shoulder to make sure Hunter followed at a respectable distance.

As this flirtatious game went on, it was becoming harder to stay so
respectable.
Especially on Kerri’s part as her eyes scanned the entirety of Hunter’s frame before they left the bright lights of the ballroom.

Chapter 2

In the years she had lived in the Governor’s Mansion, Kerri had yet to drink in the views of the anterior gardens.

Hunter asked her about them, but she didn’t know much – another shameful thing, granted how many times she walked by them, read or did homework in them, or hid behind one of the front bushes to get away from her mother’s nagging. The only “fun fact” she knew about the governor’s gardens was that they were planted fifty years ago, by a former governor’s wife who decided the mansion didn’t look affluent enough. She wanted the grounds to reflect the gardens of Versailles. Well, they didn’t look anything like Versailles, but they were passable, with trimmed hedges, bright flowers currently in bloom, and bushes arranged in a maze-like pattern that eventually led to a small fountain in the center.

Hunter commented on this flower here – his mother’s favorite – and that topiary there, but Kerri admitted she was still not as enthralled as she should have been. Admirable, since she now forced herself to search her surroundings for something to mention.

But it was hard. Damn hard. How was she supposed to admire a blasted flower when a handsome man escorted her like a princess? They entered the garden walking side-by-side but not touching; by the time they discovered topiary in the shape of Michelangelo’s Venus, Kerri had her arm wrapped around Hunter’s.

He had told her his name, but not much else about him, besides the fact his family was originally from California. Not surprising. Everyone was a Californian transplant those days. One of Kerri’s best friends in college was from Beverly Hills. Thinking of her made Kerri sad that she had so few people to talk to around there.
At least I have this man tonight.
She hid a blush behind her hand. Like hell she would let Hunter see it.

It took a bit, but eventually she managed to get her gentleman of the night to deviate from the topic of politics. What an unromantic subject. When Kerri escorted him to the gardens, romance had not been the first thing on her mind. In truth it was a driving need to know who this guy was. How often did clean-cut young men show up unattended at one of her father’s bashes? They were usually there with their fathers, learning the ropes of the club so they could take over one day. Thus far it sounded like Hunter was wholly unaffiliated. While Kerri wished she could tell him to run far, far away from politics, at least he had an open mind.

The more she got to know him, the more attractive he became.

Hunter liked talking about politics, of course, but he also had the same tastes in books as Kerri, who always loved a good conversation about Victorian literature, particularly the ones toted as the big romances when they weren’t romantic at all. “Like
Wuthering Heights,
” Hunter said, diverting their path behind another shrub. By now the moonlight shone upon the greens and pinks of the garden below, illuminating the whites of Hunter’s eyes. Every time he looked at Kerri, it was like he bore right into her soul. “Even my own mother, for as much as she reads, is convinced that it’s a romance. I told her it was a dark love story at best. But there’s nothing good or romantic about that story. Quite the opposite. But that’s why I like it.”

“I agree with you.” Kerri halted them by the fountain, tinkling in the evening with soothing sounds. “You also mentioned
Romeo and Juliet
before. I can’t think of a bigger tragedy that is often misunderstood as a romance. They die in the end! How is that a satisfying romance? I sigh to hear people call it romantic every time.”

Hunter laughed. He had a deep laugh, but not an intimidating one like some men did. It was more sonorous than anything else – as if Kerri could wrap herself in his voice and sleep peacefully.
If only.
Her father would riot to know she was out alone with a strange man.

“Chalk it up to people’s unhealthy perceptions of romance,” he said, sitting on the edge of the fountain. Kerri joined him, sure to smooth her dress along her rear before lowering herself. “We have it in our heads that love is supposed to hurt and be tragic. No wonder we find ourselves living in hell after only a few weeks together.”

“We?” Kerri tried not to laugh.

“You know what I mean.”