Chapter 1

“Excuse me. Aren’t you—” I fell silent at the diminutive woman’s abrupt scowl.

In loose gray sweats that hid most, but not all, of her impressive curves, I might’ve been mistaken. Add to that the dark brown hair glommed in a messy pile atop her head. Plus, there was no sign of the thick-rimmed glasses she’d begun to wear after being elected.

Even though it was an upscale apartment complex, she wasn’t a person I’d expected to see. Certainly not dressed as she was. Frankly, after spotting her the week before, while dashing past on my way to the airport, I’d done a double take.

But with that famous glare fixed on me, her identity became a little surer. Although I paid little attention to politics, Washington was my home. So, there we were.

Right as her pointed cheeks darkened, a flicker zipped behind those wide, warm brown eyes. Yep, my assumption was correct. But her mouth was set. So she was in hiding. Which made sense, considering her outspoken partisan views.

Pretty little thing, though.

And despite the scowl, she gave me a quick but thorough scan. That was an intriguing response. After a grueling workout, my sweat-soaked shorts and tank top weren’t the best look.

“Sorry.” I flashed her a grin before shoving open the entrance to my apartment. “Must’ve been mistaken. Good night.”

But, once inside, the temptation to peek had me looking through the peephole. While staring at the closed door, she wore the strangest expression. Perfect, sculpted eyebrow arched, she was tilting her head and sinking those famous pearly white teeth into a full lower lip.

Another reaction I hadn’t expected. Nope, not at all.

Not that it made any difference since I was off to Paris again early the next morning. Meanwhile, she’d be doing whatever Congresspeople did.

Yippee for me, I had a controversial political creature as a neighbor. Heck, it was Georgetown, and the building may have been full of them. It was that kind of place. Which meant, a week later, the entire episode had slipped from my mind.

Hence, no way I could’ve predicted what happened next.

While enjoying a quiet Saturday at home on the couch in shorts and a loose t-shirt, I was half-asleep. Their voices a delightful lullaby, college football announcers blabbered on the TV. But the soft rap of knuckles on the front door had me widening my droopy eyelids. And, with a groan, I rolled to my feet and padded to the peephole.

It was her again.

But she looked a lot more like that professional image she courted. Both glossy, wavy tresses brushed out and a conservative blue dress that hugged a curvaceous torso. Add in those non-prescription dark rims gracing her sharp, tanned face and she was back in that famous congresswoman guise.

At her nervous glances up and down the hallway, my brow knitted. Could I sense trouble? Yep. But for whatever reason, let’s call it curiosity, I undid the lock and eased the door open.

“Yes?” I said through the gap.

“Uh, sorry to, um, bother you, but”—again she scanned the corridor before smacking shiny red lips and meeting my eyes—”I could, uh, use your help.”

When I simply stared at her, she shifted from foot to foot. But after looking around once more, she returned to me with a forced grin. That well-documented one she often wore for television interviews.

“No.” I started closing the door.

“Please!” she whispered forcefully, with both hands clamped together before her. “You realize who I am, right?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, okay. Look, uh?”

“Deacon. Deacon Hall.” No idea why I gave her my name; I wasn’t in her district. But even as I reeled from that, she splayed a hand against the door’s outer panel.

“Well, Mister Hall, I’d...” She gulped and color flooded those sharp cheeks. “I feel so stupid, but, um ... My waste-disposal. It’s, um, not working.”

At my chuckle, the glare from the other day reappeared on her face.

“What?” Her whispering grew louder. “Why are you laughing?”

“Ma’am, don’t know much about politics, but I do know a bit about you.” Another laugh escaped me, both at me calling her, ten years younger than me, “ma’am,” and the juicier bits I’d heard. “You worked in the oil fields. Met your husband there. Know your way around a lot of equipment and have raised kids. Four boys, I believe. So, I’m pretty damned sure you understand how to fix a disposal.”

Yep, my trouble meter was pinging. But when I started closing the door, she leaned on her hand. No way could she have stopped me from closing it, but that had me even more curious. With a sigh, I held her brown-eyed gaze. That close, they were quite beautiful.

“Okay, you caught me.” She exhaled, then sucked on her lips. “Sorry. It’s just that—”

“Lonely? World got you down?” When she only nodded, a heavy breath left me. That I understood. Could say it was a type of well-honed professional precognition. But I relaxed and let her push the door wide once more. “You wanna come in?” When she gnawed on her lips while scanning the hall, I laughed. “Oh, it’s better if a strange man enters your place?”

“No, I guess you’re right; it doesn’t matter.” At my gesture, she stepped inside, and I pushed the door closed behind her. “Thank you, Mister Hall.”

“No prob, Mrs. Bendix.”

At me using that name, she jolted. But that was her only immediate reaction. Well, other than a quick flick of a pointed tongue around those glossy lips as she scanned my apartment.

“I’m, uh, divorced,” she murmured, breaking the silence at last.

“Oh, right. Sorry. Heard something about that.” While heading for a small sidebar, I shot her a smile. “What’s your poison?”

“Whiskey. Neat,” she replied while focusing on the crumpled pillow atop the couch and the still-blabbering TV. “Um, sorry to disturb you.”

“Pfft, college ball bores me. It’s great for nap time.” I walked towards her with one of the full tumblers held out. “Have a seat. What’s on your mind?”

“I, uh ... I shouldn’t be here.” Her voice was low and shaky as she took the glass from me. She remained standing.

“Yeah, duh.” I chortled. “But here you are.”

“Look, since you know ... I mean, that I’m—”

“—controversial?” I laughed again before taking a sip. “Yep. So why is a God-fearing, former oil-working, bar-owning part-time escort and serving congresswoman here?”

Even as the words tumbled from me, she started to respond. With each tremor in her lips, strands of lipstick pulled apart at the corners of her opening mouth. In those narrowing eyes, the retorts were building ever higher, but I held up a palm.

“Don’t care what you did or didn’t do. I fuck for a living.” A snort left me. “So I ain’t judging anybody.”

“Wait.” She jolted, and the drink shook in her fingers. “You what?”

“Fuck. You dabbled. I do it full-time. Those rich people you played with? Well, a fair few of ‘em are familiar to me. Or at least their wives.” Again, I chuckled before taking a quick sip. “Small world, huh?”

“I never—”

At my scowl, those shiny lips pursed. When she lifted the glass, it shook even more in her hand. After a lengthy series of gulps that drained a good portion of its contents, she remained quiet. So, I said nothing more and glanced at the TV.

However, her reflection on the screen held my attention. Would she be worth my time? Or worth anything at all, for that matter? Besides, what was a woman like her after? Impromptu meet-and-greets were the absolute worst. Then again, they could be the most rewarding. The oldest rule: risk versus reward.

“I should go,” she murmured.

Welp. Never mind. But something in her eyes gave me pause. Need? Yeah, my curiosity again was piqued.

“You should.” When my free hand rose, her eyes widened. She tracked it as I moved it towards her. At first, only her mouth quivered, but as soon as my fingertip landed on a very soft lower lip, her entire body vibrated. “But you won’t, will you, um, Laura?”

When she shook her head, I smiled. But also removed my fingertip. That had been an enormous gamble. Except somebody like her doesn’t walk into a strange man’s apartment on a whim. So, I was right. Genuine need lurked behind those softening brown pools.

“Have a seat.” My tumbler gestured to the couch. “Make yourself at home. Why are you really here, Laura.”

After settling in silence, she crossed shapely legs. Although she hid it well, a flash of disappointment flared when my frame lowered into a plush armchair across from her.

“Suppose you expect me to whine about all the people who hate me? Who misunderstand me?” Eyes ablaze, she took a healthy gulp of whiskey. “But I got elected. And have a mandate to—”

“Nope. Don’t give a shit about any of that,” I cut her off over the rim of my tumbler. Her reaction? You know, the strident Congress member. Cheeks reddening, she dropped her gaze to my chest. Okay, at that I was even more curious. “You said you’re lonely. Why? Gorgeous woman, back on the market and here in DC, you’d be in high demand.”

“You knew who I was and weren’t interested.” Her brows tightened as she managed a slow sip.

Yeah, she’d avoided answering. Also, no reaction at all to being called gorgeous. Nothing like a confused and overwhelmed narcissist. However, she continued holding my interest. But what reward would be worth such a risk? Nevertheless, no way was I showing my cards that early.