Prologue
Alesha Robinson took a deep breath and held it in for several long seconds before releasing it slowly. She continued the silent argument with herself to combat the foolhardiness of what she was about to do. She should turn around and go home. She started to do it—for the thousandth time, she started to do it—however, she kept walking, almost running toward her destination, as if she were eager for the impending meeting when nothing could be further from the truth.
Would he listen to her? Was there a chance in hell that he would understand and forgive her? Was she just fooling herself by thinking she could appeal to his good side? In the short time they had dated two years earlier, she had often been privy to his charm, wit and good humor. He had been a perfect gentleman, someone she had wanted to get to know better, but circumstances had not worked in their favor. For reasons he still was unaware of, she had abruptly ended their relationship without explanation. Would he hold that against her now?
He had a reputation of being fair and she knew firsthand that he was, or rather had been. But was she remembering a man from a lifetime ago? Did she dare hope that man still existed after the horrible way they had parted?
She mumbled a slight apology after nearly colliding with another pedestrian on the sidewalk, then continued on her way. She was almost there, and still she had no idea what she was going to say to him. She resolved to cross that bridge when she came to it and continued determinedly on her way to an unscheduled yet overdue meeting.
She pulled her light coat tighter around her as a biting blast of October wind forced its unwelcomed way in between the gaps of the coat’s loosely tied opening. Absent fingers brushed a stray strand of shoulder-length curly black hair, which had been loosened from its clasp by the teasing gust. What was she going to say? How should she begin? She rehearsed one scenario and then another, and another, yet she still had no idea what would come out of her mouth when she opened it.
Her hesitant feet suddenly stopped outside the forty-story building that was her destination. Craning her head, she glanced up the tall, foreboding black glass frame. She wondered, would the foe she must now face be as formidable and as unyielding? Lowering her eyes to the front door, she took another deep breath and exhaled it before walking through the double doors to face the fire, uncertain she could evade the scorching that was sure to come.
Chapter 1
Derrick Chandler stared in exasperation at the man sitting across from him. Why did campaign managers always have to try to change your life? He listened in annoyance as Cameron Stewart continued to tell him what he must do in order to win the Senate race, which he had recently entered.
He wondered why he hadn’t just stuck to corporate law instead of throwing his hat into the political arena. He decided the main reason was the city in which he resided—if you were a successful lawyer and lived in Washington, D.C., it seemed predestined that a foray into the world of politics would occur at some time or another.
Fingers absently tapped his chocolate-colored, clean-shaven chin impatiently and then brushed a piece of lint off the breast pocket of his immaculate navy blue suit. After Cameron talked until he was satisfied, then Derrick would have his say—the other man in the room would not be pleased with what he would hear. He disliked anyone telling him what he should and should not do, and Cam was treading on dangerous ground.
“Derrick, the simple fact is that you need a wife.” Cam succinctly summed up his ten-minute tirade.
Derrick bolted upright in his chair, his gray eyes growing hard and cold. His voice matched his angry countenance. “And you need a psychiatrist.”
Cam sighed audibly, not in the least put off by his friend’s frigid tone. “Just listen to me…”
“No, you listen to me.” Derrick held up a hand forestalling his friend’s words. “I tried the marriage scene once, and we both know what a fiasco that was.”
“Well, I told you before you married her…”
Derrick’s darkening eyes stopped Cam cold. “You’re treading on dangerous ground, Cameron.”
“I know, Derrick, but just hear me out.” He quickly continued before his friend could object, “You hired me to increase your chances of being elected and, whether you like it or not, I’ve got to tell you what I think.”
“Well, I don’t like it, but if you want to hear yourself talk, be my guest.”
He scratched his lightly bearded chin. “We’re doing great in all demographics except for women.”
Derrick frowned. “I thought our numbers looked pretty good there.”
“Pretty good, but if you had a woman in your life, one who could relate with and talk to other women, one on one, about their concerns, I have no doubt our numbers would double.”
“Wouldn’t a female member of my staff work?”
“Please!” Cam’s look of disgust elicited a chuckle. “Man, this is America—the land of opportunity, the home of apple pie and baseball.”
Derrick rolled his eyes. “This sure sounds like a commercial.”
“With the election a little over a year away, now is the perfect time for you to be seen as someone who has deep ties to the community, someone who has something in common with his constituents, someone who shares their dreams and hopes. The best way to identify with them is to be seen as a family man.”
“You’re not married.”
“I’m not running for public office, either.” Cam folded his arms across his chest. “You are and you need someone, and not just any woman—a wife. Just think about it, a built-in hostess for parties and a date ready and willing to go with you whenever and wherever. I know I’m getting through to you.” Cam carefully studied Derrick’s purposefully unreadable expression.
“Wouldn’t a German shepherd accomplish the same thing as a wife?” Derrick smiled slightly.
Cam closed his eyes in frustration before quickly opening them again. “Will you try to see my point of view?”
“No, you try to see mine. I am not going to marry anyone ever again!” He deliberately emphasized each word.
Cam opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again as a buzz sounded from the phone on the desk.
Derrick yanked up the handset impatiently. “Yes, what is it?”
He was more than a little annoyed—he had left instructions not to be disturbed.
“If she won’t tell you, then tell her I’m in conference and can’t be disturbed!”
He unceremoniously slammed the receiver back into its cradle. He made a mental note to apologize to Dorothy once Cameron left. He was in a foul mood, brought on by the other man’s ludicrous suggestion.
Cam was shaking his head disapprovingly. “People skills, Derrick. People skills!”
“What do I pay you for?” In spite of himself, he almost smiled at his friend’s dismayed tone.
“To tell you
