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“Answering your earlier question, it’s a pleasant surprise. You showing up here.”
He formed a panty-dropping smile that made the temperature in the room rise several degrees. “Good. For a moment there, I thought I was crossing the line.”
I smiled back at him, having an urge to twist a strand of my hair around my finger, which was one of the things I did unconsciously whenever I flirted. Too bad that my hair was collected in a bun.
“Not at all.”
“You know, you didn’t tell me your name that night.”
That night, telling him my name would lead to a mistake, but now I wasn’t so sure about it. His pull was strong, and now it was difficult to rely on reason and think about the consequences. But if he didn’t know my name, did he not realize who I was? Had I changed that much since middle school? I guessed so. But I could play along, for now.
“I’m Camilla.”
“Camilla.” The way my name rolled off his tongue was hot. My pussy throbbed, desire clouding my reason even more. “Beautiful,” he whispered, dropping his gaze to my lips. I was sure I’d started to pant, wishing I had a fan that would cool me. It was suddenly very hot at the table.
“Look, I’m staying only for a few minutes, but I’ll be stopping by a hotel in a couple hours.” A hotel? My pulse skyrocketed. “I would love to see you.” He looked over other people at the table, well aware of their inquisitive stares. “We can talk in private there. Or else.”
Or else… Holy…
He wrote the name of the hotel and the room number down on a napkin and folded it before he slid it to my plate.
“Senator Dawson, I think I should tell you, I don’t mix business with pleasure,” I said in whisper hoping no one else would hear me.
“Oh? Because I always do. See you later,” he said in a tone that promised so much and winked at me.
Jesus. I didn’t remember when the last time was I was this turned on.
He stood up and walked away abruptly without even talking to anyone else at the table, leaving us to gape at him as if he had three heads. And as soon as he was out of the door, everyone gaped at me.
In an instant, I was facing a barrage of questions—each question more vexing than the other—and I became flustered. This was definitely something I didn’t need at the moment. They wanted to know how I knew him and what was our relationship, but I ignored their requests, refusing to satisfy their curiosity.
I could only imagine the kind of rumors that would circulate around the firm by tomorrow.
“Girl, you’re lucky,” Angela commented, her eyes as big as saucers. I had noticed how she ogled at him, not that she was the only one. All female interns around the table had looked at him with their admiring or lustful eyes, and I couldn’t blame them. “It seems like he’s into you.”
&nbs
p; “You’re imagining things. He’s just friendly.”
“I’m not sure about that, but whatever floats your boat.”
Our lunch was served, and thankfully, they didn’t pester me about Merritt anymore. The conversation went in another direction, but I couldn’t focus, because I was caught in a dilemma. Should I go to see Merritt in the hotel? Should I sleep with him? What the hell would Carter say, or do?
Maybe sleeping with him would be a good thing. I could satisfy this desire that was rushing through me now and refusing to dissipate and get him out of my system for good. Our paths wouldn’t cross again after today…
Or maybe…
I could make this benefit me.
Merritt was a senator. He obviously had good connections and could call in a few favors here and there. He could be the solution to my problem!
I twirled my glass, observing the wine spinning in it as I contemplated on whether I should actually go through with it or not.
Was it a good idea? Yes.
Was it moral? Hell no.
But I was desperate, and desperate times call for desperate measures.
