“No.” His look was a mixture of displeasure and concern. “There was no one else on my list. I know I should have talked to you sooner. Putting you in Burke’s crosshairs just so I can have a believable cover is selfish as hell.”
But he needed one. If this wasn’t successful, Stephen could lose everything he’d worked for. He could be forced to leave office and do one of those humiliating press conferences where he had to apologize for perversions he hadn’t even gotten to experience. At least he wasn’t married. It was always the stone-faced wives standing behind their men that Tasha felt most sorry for.
He swore. “And I just realized I didn’t think about the bakery. Can you afford to be away? I’ll make sure you’re compensated—”
“I haven’t said yes yet,” she reminded him sternly. “Don’t ruin your odds by insulting me.”
But her mind was already working through the logistics of the situation. The Twisted Tart would survive a week without her. With two efficient employees and a thriving online market selling her special muffin mixes, she could probably take an entire month off without anyone noticing.
Her business model wasn’t overly ambitious, but it was successful. She experimented with recipes, closed up for a few hours here and there when the weather was good, and always took weekends off.
And if there was a scandal? She’d need to hire another employee because business would boom. Everyone would want a muffin from the senator’s twisted tart.
Good Lord, was she actually considering this? It sounded crazy. Straight-out-of-a-damn-mystery-thriller crazy. How had the careful, politically correct Finn brother gotten involved in something like this?
However it had happened, Stephen was offering her something that was more tempting than she could have imagined—four days with him where she wouldn’t need to pretend she didn’t know him. That she didn’t want to touch him every time she saw him. In fact, it would look suspicious if she didn’t do a hell of a lot of touching, and more. She would have to show Burke and anyone else watching why the senator couldn’t resist her. It was a proposition that was already giving her ideas. Dangerous on so many levels but undeniably tempting. It was the kind of thing the majority of her fantasies were made of.
Which meant she needed to tread very carefully. There was no reason to put herself or their current relationship at risk if she didn’t have to. “What would happen if I said no?”
He stilled. “You’d forget this conversation and I’d go without you. I wouldn’t blame you, you know. I’m already starting to second guess this brilliant plan.”
Like hell. “I’m not sure you’re up for one of these parties alone, Senator, regardless of the stakes.”
“I’m not exactly an innocent, Natasha. I’d manage.”
She tilted her head and gave him a thorough once-over. “Honey, trust me, when it comes to this you are an innocent. My people can sense fresh meat like sharks scent blood. They’d eat you alive, or make you so uncomfortable you’d out yourself as the vanilla you are before you can get whatever it is you need from Burke.”
Stephen rounded the desk to stand in front of her chair, leaning forward until his hands were on either side of her and he was looking directly into her eyes. “Which is why I was asking for your help.”
She hoped he didn’t see her small shiver of response. “You need me.”
“I need you.”
Despite the situation with Jennifer, Stephen trusted her. He wouldn’t have come to her with this if he didn’t know he could rely on her.
He needed her.
And that was the problem with their strange, dysfunctional relationship. Whenever he wanted her, needed her, no matter how much time had passed, she was there—at least when it came to sex. Ever since their tumultuous college affair, he’d been the one man she couldn’t refuse. He was also the one she couldn’t have. It was the ultimate mind fuck. She would have to do something about it eventually, but now wasn’t the time. There was only one answer in the end, because there was no way she was going to let him do this alone. Out of loyalty to his family if nothing else.
You’re not doing this for his family and you know it.
She lifted her hand to cup his jaw, feeling the scrape of stubble along her palm. “I’m in, Boris.” The momentary confusion in his expression made her laugh. “Boris and Natasha? Rocky and Bullwinkle?”
When he didn’t respond, she huffed in frustration. “Stephen, were you born in a suit?”
“You know I wasn’t.”
“I get it. Cartoons weren’t cool enough for your bad-boy image.”
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Some of us weren’t lucky enough to spend our formative years watching children’s shows and experimenting with our sexuality.”
Tasha was tempted to stick out her tongue, but then Stephen leaned into her hand subtly, as if he couldn’t help himself, his deep blue eyes focusing on her lips again. Damn the man.