It was six months later and “soon” still hadn’t arrived. Six months of silence that she supposed should tell her all she needed to know.
Tasha frowned. Why did it matter how long it had been? She and Stephen weren’t the sort of friends who caught up weekly over coffee. They didn’t swap emails or have a standing lunch date that he’d neglected to keep. So he hadn’t texted or emailed—so what? They’d never had that kind of relationship. Nothing had changed.
And yet everything had changed. Stephen’s family now knew he and Tasha occasionally got together for no-strings sex, something they’d successfully kept secret from everyone for sixteen years. They’d been outed because one reckless moment in the backseat of Stephen’s car had been recorded on a camera phone, and it had almost ruined his spotless reputation. Since then she’d had no idea where they stood. No idea what to expect. And the great communicator standing in front of her hadn’t bothered filling her in.
She tilted her head until her curls bounced against her bare shoulder. “Why am I here, Senator? What is it you want?”
Thickly lashed blue eyes took her in from the mass of dark hair she hadn’t bothered to tame to her sandaled feet and back, pausing long enough at her neckline for her to wonder if he wanted what he always wanted. What they both always wanted. But her upstanding senator wouldn’t dare. Not here in his office in broad daylight.
“Loaded question,” he murmured, walking toward her. His movements were slow and determined. Decisive and controlled. She knew he didn’t intend them to be seductive, but they were to her. Because she was pathetic.
He stopped a few feet away. “That’s a lovely dress. Why do I get the feeling I’m interrupting your Saturday plans?”
The white eyelet sundress was her sassy homage to Stephen Finn’s pristine image. The color was stark against her darker skin and the style was modest, though too snug across her chest to be considered appropriate. A passive aggressive fashion decision on her part for this command performance, and one she’d had no doubt he’d notice—he was definitely a breast man.
“In a perfect world,” she parried, “my Saturday plans would include opening my eyes around noon, naked in bed as I told my just as naked companion how I take my coffee with cream, brown sugar and a full body massage.”
Stephen was frowning. “You had company?”
“It’s not a perfect world, Senator.” She smiled. “If it were, you’d be out of a job. In this world, your super-sized cousin, Brady Linebacker Finn, showed up at my door—not with coffee and a plate of aspirin to soothe the angry hangover gods, but with a summons to a tête-à-tête with my state representative. If you do this with every eligible voter, I’m not surprised you’re so busy. And I didn’t even know he was working for you. When did he get back?”
“A few months ago. Hangover gods?” His frown disappeared, his eyes sparkling with humor. “It must have been some night. How late did you get home?”
“It wasn’t late at all,” she purred. “In fact, it was early. Nothing like going to bed with the sunrise.”
Stephen put his hands behind his back, studying the bare skin of her arms and throat. He wanted to touch her. She could see it in his eyes. Why was he hesitating?
“Were you at your usual club event, or out with someone in particular?”
“My usual club event?” She shook her head ruefully, her own palms pressed against the door so she wouldn’t reach for him. “Only a politician could make a night of whips and chains sound like a church bake sale. And not to be rude, honey, but what’s with the cross-examination? Since when were my Friday nights ever your business?”
“You’re right, of course.” He dipped his chin in acknowledgment and apology, taking one step closer. Invading her space with his heat and his clean, masculine scent. The closer he got, the harder it was for her to concentrate. “It wasn’t my intention to pry.”
What was his intention? If this had been one of their usual meetings there’d be no talking and they’d be halfway to naked by now. But there was nothing usual about this visit.
“There was a collaring ceremony.” It just slipped out. “And wine. A lot of wine.” Why had she felt compelled to tell him that?
“Sounds…interesting.”
Tasha sighed. It had been romantic, but he wouldn’t understand that because when he wasn’t with her, Stephen was a bit of a prude. A sexy prude who was far too handsome for his own good. Strong cheekbones, chiseled features, and a bright white smile that were all made for the camera. Without that rakish scar on his chin, he would have been too perfect. The good news was that if his career in politics went bust, he could walk onto the set of any soap opera and be hired on the spot.