“And look at that,” Dax said, splaying his hand of cards, a straight flush that trumped Nick’s full house and Jake’s three of a kind. He pulled in the poker chips from the center of the table and added them to his growing pile. “Thanks again for deciding to raise the stakes for tonight’s game, Nick.”

“Don’t mention it,” Nick said, realizing that he’d only done so in the hopes of forcing himself to keep his focus on the game at hand, a ruse that he’d failed at miserably. Particularly when the soft laughter from the bridal shower that was taking place out at the pool kept drawing his attention.

Was Anna keeping up her end of the bargain and playing nicely with the other women as she’d promised? Maybe he should move a little closer to the door to see if he could hear the conversation…

Chris was shuffling the cards when a particular raucous cry of female laughter stopped him and he smiled, turning his gaze to Nick. “So what’s the story with you and Anna? Is there something going on between you that I need to know? I’d hate to overwhelm her with my irresistible charm if there is.”

“You have nothing to worry about, buddy,” Nick said, careful to keep his tone light. “There’s nothing between us and never was—other than some bad high school memories.”

Chris nodded and resumed his shuffling. Dax, however, studied him. “I don’t know, bro. That may have been true in high school, but I can’t help but notice a certain…vibe between you.”

“Vibe?” Nick snorted before taking a pull from his beer. “Sure, maybe of distrust.”

“So that little exchange before today’s game was merely you two swearing your undying hatred for each other?” Dax persisted.

“We were coming to an understanding of how we were going to get through this week without killing each other.”

“Killing each other?” Jake asked, grinning. “That’s not exactly what I was worried about when she dropped you out on the field earlier.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “She hardly dropped me. Don’t you guys have more interesting things to do than to watch what I’m doing—or rather, not doing—with Dax’s future sister-in-law?”

Chris dealt the cards. “All right. We hear you. The lovely Anna Blake is fair game.”

“Of course she is,” Nick said, even if the thought of this buffoon and the blue-eyed reporter irked him. He finished off his beer. “Actually, I think I’m going to sit this one out and see if I can rustle up something better to drink from the kitchen. You know me. My preferred poison is of the single malt variety.”

Nick pushed his cards back to Chris and left the table. As he’d expected, the men barely acknowledged his exit, too caught up in studying their hands to pay him any mind. He relished the blissful silence and emptiness of the large kitchen that was dark, save for the run of lights above the island. He crossed the tiled floor toward the liquor-filled teak sideboard at the other end of the room, where he’d seen someone restock it earlier. After grabbing the desired bottle of Scotch whiskey, he shut the cabinet and looked around for a fresh glass.

Footsteps coming from the hallway alerted him to someone else’s arrival. It wasn’t difficult to identify the newcomer with the long blonde hair who sauntered in a moment later. She stopped in the middle of the floor, her face turned toward the dim light, her hands balling and un-balling in fists as she muttered something under her breath. She looked sorely in need of a stiff drink, nearly as much as he did.

“You talk to yourself a lot. Do the voices ever answer?” he asked.

She flinched at hearing his voice and whirled around to face him.

“Crap,” she said and placed her hand over her heart. “Are you planning on spying on me this entire week?”

“Only as necessary. This meeting, however, is merely a happy coincidence. What are you doing in here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be outside enjoying the bridal shower?”

Instead of answering, she walked to the bank of cupboards and started opening and closing them. The short and sexy denim cutoffs she’d been wearing at the park were replaced with a tomato-red spaghetti-strapped dress that was bold and daring, like her. His eyes continued to travel up past her softly curving hips and her narrow waist. The heavy shiny mass of honey-blonde hair fell past her shoulders to cover her nearly bare back.

He did a mental headshake at the inappropriate thoughts running through his head. This was Anna Blake, the woman whose memory would have brought anger, frustration, and distrust before today. The anger and frustration had certainly lessened over the past ten years, but the distrust remained strong.

“One hour and forty-five minutes,” Anna said suddenly, and he was thankful she couldn’t read his thoughts. “That’s how long I’ve been sitting out there drawing such scintillating pictures as ‘catching the bouquet’ and ‘wedding bell blues.’” She stopped at a cabinet door revealing a shining display of crystal tumblers. Grabbing two, she turned around. “I think that entitles me to something a little stiffer than the pink martinis they’re serving outside—and fifteen minutes of your time, as you promised.”

From the sounds of laughter that had been rolling in from outside tonight, he had to admit that she appeared to have held up her end of the bargain for today. Nick headed to the breakfast nook, located in the corner of the kitchen. He twisted the cap off the bottle before placing it on the table and taking a seat. “What is it you want to know?”

He poured the whiskey and slid a glass across the table toward her before taking a lingering sip of the heady liquor as he waited.

Anna laid the phone on the table next to her glass. “I assume it’s okay if I record our interview.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

She whirled the fluid around before taking a sip. She grimaced, evidently not enjoying the flavor, but she didn’t complain. Instead, she took another drink before returning it to the table and turning those wide eyes on him.

“Okay. Let’s start with some easy questions. As everyone knows, you come from a long line of St. Claires who’ve had their finger in the proverbial political pie. Your dad was a US senator. Your granddad, a governor decades before that. Have you always wanted to follow in their footsteps?”

He chuckled lightly. “You do realize that that’s the same question you asked me almost ten years ago? When we first sat down for our interview during the student election?”

She smiled innocently. “I just wanted to give you the chance to clear up the record. In case maybe your answer has evolved in the past decade.”

Nick didn’t have to ask what she meant, as he recalled having made some flippant remark about the election being a one-off to him. He didn’t want it to seem like he had anything invested in the race on the chance he lost. He’d known even then that Anna hadn’t bought it. She’d sensed his ambition and determination.

It was the beginning of their relationship of distrust.

He looked across the table, his gaze stopping at the sight of her left dress strap, no wider than a shoelace, which had fallen off one shoulder. In defiance to the laws of gravity, the top of her dress hadn’t slipped down, shored up by the swelling of her full breasts that he’d been trying to pretend didn’t exist.

What had she been saying? He pulled his gaze upward.

The chastising look on her face told him she likely knew where his gaze had been and she wasn’t surprised. And why would she be? She had to know by now of her considerable appeal to the opposite sex.

Not that she’d been entirely without allure in high school. Sure, she hadn’t any of the curves that she wore so confidently now, but she’d had the same pouty lips, the same sass that went with that full mouth, and the same wide blue-gray eyes that were not only pretty but had made him feel like she could see through him, through his carefully honed mask of confidence to the insecurities underneath. It was what had made him almost afraid of her then, but now as a fully grown man who had reached a level of his own maturity, it made him only more curious.

And intrigued.

Nick cleared his throat. “You’re right. But as a wildly insecure seventeen-year-old who was afraid you and everyone else could see how desperately I wanted the win, I tried to play it cool, like I didn’t care if I won or not. To answer your question, though, yes. I’ve always known I wanted to enter a life of public service.”

“Because of your dad?” she asked.

“He played a large part in that decision, that’s for sure. I remember this time, I would have been about eight, and my dad had returned from DC and was meeting with some constituents out of the local office. I was frustrated because we were supposed to have gone to the park to play ball, but he needed to stop in. The way people looked at him, so respectfully, almost…reverently, it made me proud. Whether they were thanking him for his work or giving him grief for not giving the vote they’d wanted, he treated them all like their opinions mattered. I finally could see that what he was doing was making a real difference in these people’s lives.”

It was another five years before his disillusionment about his dad’s greatness came to a screeching halt. But that was a matter that he would never go into, least of all with Anna Blake.

“Years later, when that stroke hit him and he had to give up his seat, we all knew it was only a matter of time. Dad could no longer do what he loved doing, and in the end it…it killed him.” Nick swallowed past the lump that rose in his throat whenever he remembered his dad’s last few weeks of life.

“I’m sorry,” Anna said gently. “That must have been rough for you. You were at Georgetown at the time, weren’t you?”

He gave her an odd look, wondering how much about his life she actually knew. It made him realize how little he knew of her, something he unexplainably wanted to remedy. “Yeah. I took the semester off to be there for him, and for Dax and Mom. When he died, I returned to school, eventually going on to get a master’s in public administration. The rest I’m sure you’re familiar with.”

Running for the city’s supervisor position two years ago had turned his life into an open book. What he hadn’t volunteered became common knowledge thanks to the bounties that editors like Charlie Kravitz placed on his head. It was a price he was still getting used to and a part of going into public service.

“It was quite the coup at the time. You became the youngest city supervisor in the city’s history.”

“That’s right, but I’ll bet that you were voting for the other guy to win.”

She smiled, not giving anything away. “Speaking of your current position as a public servant for the city, how exactly are you able to be here instead of back in the city?”

“I’m in contact with my office and keeping abreast of any developments, and my committee isn’t scheduled for any votes this week, so there should be little to no effect.”

“And your mother? She must be thrilled about the upcoming senatorial campaign,” she said, running a finger around the rim of her glass. “I’m betting she’s had your entire political career plotted since birth.”

She wasn’t far off the mark. “You speak as if you know her.”

“I know her enough,” she muttered under her breath.

That stopped him. “How would you know my mother?”

Anna looked up, studying him suspiciously. “You know how.”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t.

“You don’t know anything about her campaign to try and get me expelled from school?”

He set his glass down, knowing with cold certainty that he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear. “Was this because of the story you did during the student election?”

“Ding ding ding. Give the gentleman his prize,” she said as if trying for humor only to have her joke fall flat. “The day after my story ran, she found me walking home from school and thought it was a good time for us to chat. Naively, I climbed into her town car. Had her driver not been there, I probably would have run, but I thought at least there’d be a witness.”

Despite her attempt at humor, he could see her hand trembled as she set her drink back on the table. “What did she say?” he asked softly.

“I don’t know. Just stuff. Something about my being a desperate, no-name girl with no future outside of the fast-food industry. And a few other things that I can’t remember.”

He doubted that. He would bet she remembered every word that his mother had told her and he shuddered at the possibilities. His mother could be unflinchingly harsh.

“It wasn’t until I got to school the next morning that I discovered she’d also spoken to Headmaster Higgins and a number of parents on the school board about getting me expelled. When that didn’t work, she asked that I be booted off the paper. The entire week was a nightmare, not helped by the fact that my mom was somewhere in Indonesia and I had no way of reaching her. It took until Friday for the headmaster to pull me into his office and assure me that I still had my place on the paper, thanks in large part to some all-powerful benefactor who pulled a few favors. In the end, your mother had to be satisfied with my apology and a retraction in the next edition of the student paper.”

“I’m sorry, Anna. I didn’t realize she’d done all of that. She did that entirely on her own. Although, if I’m being honest, I probably wouldn’t have objected too hard had I known. I was pretty pissed off at you.”

She looked down at the counter, playing with her phone. “If we’re being honest, I did feel horrible about what happened. I should have double-checked my source, but I let my personal bias where you were concerned get the best of me. I was wrong. And…and I’m sorry. It was a hard lesson to learn. But necessary.”

“Wait. Are you actually apologizing to me?”

She met his gaze, holding it. “I am. I was wrong.”

He nodded. “Thank you. It’s nice to hear.” He remembered another thing she mentioned. About her mother. Parrish Hall was a small school with a small student body. As such, most people knew each other, knew who their parents were, usually because the school strongly encouraged parents to participate in school events. And even though Anna was a year his junior, he didn’t have any recollection of her mom. “So was your mom gone a lot like that when you were growing up?”

“Every so often. She’s a cultural anthropologist, so traveling, staying places for long periods of time were part of the job. My mom’s aunt took care of me when she was gone up until she died when I was fourteen. By then I was old enough to handle being alone when she was away.”

“How long could she be gone?”

Anna shrugged. “Anywhere from three weeks to three months. But it wasn’t like I was completely on my own. She had a circle of friends that I grew up knowing I could reach out to if I needed to.”

Nick had thought nothing could be worse than having a mom who was overly involved in your life. The alternative, having one hardly there at all, suddenly seemed worse.

Anna went to take another drink only to find it was gone. Nick didn’t hesitate as he topped off her glass and then his own. She held her glass a little too tightly, her fingers white.

He realized one thing that Anna seemed to hate more than him.

Vulnerability.

Whether from a frequently absent mother who couldn’t be bothered with the day-to-day events of her daughter’s life or a father who had washed his hands of her entirely. It was no wonder she found it difficult to open up to Janie.

“Not that I’m missing her or anything, but I have been curious why your mother hasn’t graced the festivities with her presence,” Anna said. “Is there any chance she will be joining us? Or is her broomstick out of commission?”

He smiled. “My mother is a surprisingly busy woman these days. She’s involved in more political action committees than I can count, not to mention the St. Claire Foundation she heads, so we’re all safe to enjoy the frivolity of the week without her presence.” Although Kathryn St. Claire had found the time to leave him several lengthy voice mails about ideas she had for his upcoming election and to ask him how things were going with Sara. She still hadn’t given up hope on that reconciliation. “Last I heard, she’ll be arriving in time for Friday’s rehearsal dinner.”

“Yay,” she said without enthusiasm. “Now that we’ve covered your family, why don’t we move on to something new? The number one question that pops up in the comments whenever we run a story about you is whether or not you are currently involved with anyone romantically.” She looked up at him. “Care to comment?”

That was definitely not something he was ready to tackle. Nick looked at his watch, surprised to see that they’d well exceeded their fifteen-minute allotment of time for tonight’s interview. He smiled. “Darn. As much as I’d love to go into that with you, it looks like we’re out of time.”

“Convenient.”

“On that note”—he rose, putting the cap back on the bottle—“I probably had better rejoin the men. And you…you should probably see if Janie needs attending to.”

She looked so disgruntled he couldn’t help but grin. Even disgruntled she was pretty, her face bright with color whether from the commentary exchanged, the alcohol, or something more. Something that he was more than aware of pulsing between them, making him want to stay, to see what more he could uncover about this woman even though the conversation was supposed to have been focused on him.

Which was why it was best that he leave now. Before he leaned forward and skimmed her bare shoulder with his fingertips as he’d been wanting to do this entire time. Before he leaned forward and tested his lips against hers, to see if she tasted like the Scotch in her glass or something sweeter and infinitely more sensuous.

Before he took complete leave of his senses.