maiden name...”
“How are you going to find her real name?” Stone asked him. “I had no idea who Hillary really was until she told me.”
Simon cursed.
“I’ll find out,” Trev assured them.
“How?” Simon asked. “You said she didn’t take the bait.”
Not that bait. But she’d given him another opening—when she’d kissed him back.
“I’m not giving up after just one shot,” Trev said. Or one kiss.
“We don’t just need to know who she is, though. We need to get evidence against her in order to bring her down like she tried bringing down Street Legal,” Simon said.
The others nodded in agreement.
Trev might have found another way in—literally. But he wasn’t about to share that with any of his friends yet. “I’m not giving up,” he repeated. “I’m going to get her.”
Simon shook his head. “I’m not sure I want you risking yourself like this,” he said. “We don’t really know anything about her. She could be dangerous.”
“She is.” She’d affected him like no other woman ever had. “But she doesn’t scare me.”
“That’s the problem,” Simon said. “You should be scared and you’re not.”
His friend’s words chilled Trev for a moment, finally cooling off the heat of the desire he felt for Allison. He didn’t want to wind up like his friends had. He didn’t want to be in a relationship the way all of them were.
But he didn’t have to worry about that happening to him. Allison was the mole, so there was no way he would ever fall for her. Hell, he was safer than his friends were, which was good because after that kiss, he was damn well going to get Allison McCann or whoever the hell she really was.
Allison had lost her damn mind. She couldn’t believe she’d said what she had to Trevor Sinclair. Fortunately, he hadn’t taken her up on the offer any more than she’d taken him up on his offer to help him run for office.
What the hell had she been thinking?
She hadn’t. After that kiss she hadn’t been able to think at all. That was her only excuse for her slip in judgment. Two slips...
Her first slip had been slipping her tongue into his damn mouth. Kissing him had been so stupid. And then to suggest that she might have agreed to have sex with him.
The sad thing was that she hadn’t been kidding. She was tempted. But apparently, she hadn’t been enough of a temptation for him. Maybe he couldn’t believe she’d turned down his job offer, though.
And that had probably been her third mistake. Like she’d said, he had a damn good shot at winning whatever election he ran for. If she was the one who helped him cross from lawyer to politician, she could bring her business to the next level. But politics wasn’t where she wanted it or her to go.
She wasn’t sure it was the right place for Trevor Sinclair, either. He was a much better lawyer than he would be a politician. But he was so eloquent and so damn good-looking that there was no way he could lose...whatever he wanted.
For a moment, with the passionate way he’d kissed her, she’d thought he’d wanted her. But he only wanted her to help him win.
She sighed. She probably should have taken the assignment. But politics and campaigns...
She shuddered as bad memories washed over her. Memories were all they were, and she was too strong, too resilient, to let them ever get to her again. She wouldn’t let Trevor Sinclair get to her, either.
And just in case he’d tried to track her down later that day, she’d made certain to stay so busy that now, at the end of the workday, she was exhausted. She dropped her dress on her closet floor and grabbed her nightgown. Moments later she opened a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass as she glanced down at her view of the park.
She should have been out there, running. That was her fastest way to relieve stress. But she didn’t think this was the kind of stress that could be relieved with exercise. She needed sex.
Sex with Trevor Sinclair. While she had other men she could have called, he was the one she wanted, which was stupid. She worked with him. At least she used to work with him. Mixing business with pleasure...
Was stupid.
But where else was Allison to find pleasure when all she did was work? She pressed her glass to her lips and took a long sip. The alcohol shot straight from her empty stomach to her head. Maybe she should have waited to open the wine until after she’d eaten. But she wasn’t interested in food.
She just wanted Trevor Sinclair here. For more of his kisses.
For more of him.
She should have undressed him, should have seen if his muscular body looked as good without clothes as it did with them. But he hadn’t really wanted sex with her. He’d wanted her to run a damn campaign for him. Anger coursed through her, replacing the desire she’d felt for him. That was better.
She’d rather be angry with him than attracted to him. But she doubted any amount of anger—or wine—could negate the amount of desire she felt for him.
She sighed but she took another sip anyway. She could handle her alcohol. Her mother had adopted the European attitude toward drinking, serving it to Allison well before she’d been of legal drinking age. So she’d built up a tolerance to it, which was unfortunate because she couldn’t use being drunk as an excuse to call Trevor Sinclair and proposition him for sex.
Not that she would have. She knew better than to get involved with a man like him. It was bad enough that he was a lawyer; now he wanted to be a politician.
She groaned with disappointment and murmured, “What a waste.”
The ding of her doorbell drew her attention away from the windows, and she glanced toward the door. Her pulse quickened with excitement.
Could it be...?
Had he found her?
Had he found her?
After that unsettling second meeting with his partners, Trev had spent the rest of the day doing something he’d never done before: chasing after a woman. And Allison McCann was one busy woman. He never tracked her down at her office or throughout her day of outside appointments.
But as he stood outside the door of the penthouse apartment in a building on Central Park West, he truly hoped he had found her now. He pressed the bell for the second time and finally, the door opened. Allison McCann leaned wearily against the jamb as if she’d spent the day running from him.
Had she known he’d been trying to track her down? Had she been purposely eluding him? He wouldn’t have put it past her, especially if she had any inclination that he suspected she was the mole.
She didn’t look scared, though. She looked...
Incredibly
