No Stranger to Scandal - By Rachel Bailey Page 0,64
and tears of joy began to creep down her cheeks. “You know, he told me about an hour ago that I should come after you. I’ve booked a flight to New York. I was going to convince you to give us a chance.”
He chuckled. “Who would have thought I had Boyle to thank for something good?” He tucked her head against his chest, smoothing her hair down. “Your house is too big for one person anyway—we may as well fill it up. Why do you have such a big place?”
“Build it and they will come,” she quoted softly. Being an only child who’d lost both her parents, she hadn’t been able to contemplate a condo or something small. “I think I’ve always been waiting for a family of my own.”
“You have one now.” His voice was as rough as gravel. “Josh, me and Rosebud.”
Rosebud came trotting over at the sound of her name, panting with her curly tongue peeking out. Lucy looked from Rosie to Josh on the sofa to Hayden in her arms. And smiled. “The perfect family.”
“So is that the end of your ground rules?” Hayden asked, leaning back enough so she could see his eyes.
“Yes.” There was nothing more she could possibly want. She was ready to marry the man she loved. “I’ll—”
“Well, I have a couple of my own before you answer my proposal.” He pulled her down on the sofa so they were sitting with Josh—Lucy in Hayden’s lap and Josh in Lucy’s, with Hayden’s arms around both.
She blinked. “You do?”
“First ground rule,” he said, eyes narrowed, “no more secrecy. If I want to kiss you in the middle of a park, or on the steps of the Capitol, I will.”
She bit down on the wide smile that threatened, needing to at least appear serious in the negotiations. “I think I can live with that rule.”
Obviously bored with the lack of action, Josh crawled out of Lucy’s lap and over to the other end of the sofa and began patting Rosie’s nose, giggling when she licked his fingers on each pat.
“Second rule,” Hayden said, bringing her attention back to him by maneuvering her to straddle his lap, then resting his hands on her hips. “There are no conditions on where we can make love anymore. Only being able to have you at your place was driving me insane.”
She kissed a path across his jaw and was rewarded when he shuddered. “Another rule I can wholeheartedly approve,” she murmured in his ear.
“Then—” he cradled her face in his palms, bringing it back in front of his “—I think we might just have ourselves an agreement to get married.”
The intensity in his eyes, his love for her that was shining there unguarded, made everything inside her sing. Then he captured her mouth and kissed her, and she knew she’d never want more than this: being with the man she loved, who loved her, and the family of her heart.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from A Conflict of Interest by Barbara Dunlop
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One
It was inauguration night in Washington, D.C., and Cara Cranshaw had to choose between her president and her lover. One strode triumphantly though the arches of the Worthington Hotel ballroom to the uplifting strains of “Hail to the Chief” and the cheers of eight hundred well-wishers. The other stared boldly at her from across the ballroom, a shock of unruly, dark hair curling across his forehead, his bow tie slightly askew and his eyes telegraphing the message that he wanted her naked.
For the moment, it was investigative reporter Max Gray who held her attention. Despite her resolve to turn the page on their relationship, she couldn’t tear her gaze from his, nor could she stop her hand from reflexively moving to her abdomen. But Max was off-limits now that Ted Morrow had been sworn in as president.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” cried the master of ceremonies above the music and enthusiastic clapping that was spreading like a wave across the hall. “The