Free Private Indiscretions by Susan Crosby Page B

different kind of notice of each other.
    It was obvious she’d loved, respected and admired him.
    Sam didn’t think the marriage was a political move on Randall’s part. He was in his second term, having won by a landslide. His marriage to Dana was his first, but Sam couldn’t get a handle on whether it was a passionate relationship as well as a comfortable one. He was going to have to press the point if she expected him to see what potential source of blackmail existed—or if it was an empty threat. She wasn’t going to like it.
    He wandered around Dana’s sitting room, picking up a framed photo here and there—her parents; Lilith’s wedding picture; an invitation to a party thrown by Lilith to celebrate Dana’s Senate victory; Dana with Lilith, Candi and Willow when they were about sixteen, grinning, arms wrapped around each other like teenage girls do. The picture made him smile, too. Beside it was a small photo of Dana withher husband in some tropical paradise, leis around their necks.
    Their quick, private wedding had been cause for speculation. Sam had followed the story more than he cared to admit, but when she didn’t turn out to be pregnant, and Randall’s staff all expressed how much they liked and respected Dana, the talk stopped.
    Sam returned the picture to its place. They were an attractive couple, well matched and physically fit. In the photo they were smiling at each other but she wasn’t leaning into him. He wasn’t touching her. If this was their honeymoon…
    Jealousy slammed into him even as Sam tried to convince himself he had no right to feel it. He’d forfeited his chance by not seeking her out when he left the army and returned to California. He’d made it a point to find out where she was living and what she was doing, but he’d left it at that.
    Now he regretted kissing her earlier, even though he’d believed he would never see her again. Even though he’d wanted to take that memory with him. The intimacy brought an element to their relationship that interfered with the business at hand, especially considering how personal he was about to get with her.
    He turned away from the bookshelf with all its photos and spotted a wide-mouthed ceramic urn on a side table, the cork top sitting upside down on the tabletop. He peered inside. His stomach clenched. The notes. She’d saved the notes. And she’d been looking at them, as he had been.
    He heard Dana come into the bedroom and moved to take the tray from her when she came through the doorway.
    â€œI got the evil eye from Hilda,” she said, looking much more relaxed than when she left. Obviously she’d needed a break, too. “She doesn’t like me messing around in her kitchen.” She sighed. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to having a servant.”
    â€œYou think you could do the job you do without help at home?”
    â€œNo. But I wish I could.”
    â€œWhat about in D.C.?” He sat on the sofa, close to the coffee table where he’d placed the tray, then he dipped a chicken strip into a red sauce.
    â€œI have a cleaning service, but that’s all. I eat out most of the time. Meetings often run well into the night.”
    He took a bite and nodded his appreciation for the food. “I’ve heard the women senators meet for dinner once a month.”
    â€œThat’s true. They took me under their wing the day I arrived. We may not agree on everything, but we respect each other, and they’ve been generous.” She snatched a stalk of cold asparagus from the tray then kicked off her shoes and joined him on the sofa, sitting cross-legged.
    Her T-shirt clung even more tightly when she moved. He liked watching her. She had a graceful way about her that he associated more with women who lived leisurely lives, not someone with Dana’s work ethic.
    â€œI hope iced tea is okay,” she said, leaning to