Off the Record (Record #1)(22)

Brady’s head tilted down toward her ear, and he whispered, “I’m asking you to get to know me. Is that so bad?”

It wasn’t. Actually, with his mouth so close to her ear, it was sounding more and more like a better option than standing on this dance floor.

They left the sentence hanging between them as the song ended.

Liz dropped her arms to her sides reluctantly, and was surprised to find she actually wanted another dance. She had to agree with Brady; it was better when she was in his arms. And it felt like a weight had been placed on her shoulders when he let her go. But that wasn’t what she was here for. She wasn’t here to get to know Brady Maxwell. She was here to make connections and to make her time this summer at the paper tremendously easier. If she didn’t take the networking opportunities seriously tonight, then she would be in for an upward battle the rest of the campaign.

“I think I’ll go back to my cheesecake,” she murmured, wanting nothing more than to stay.

“I think you’ll stay with me.”

“Is that a good idea?” Liz couldn’t help but wonder how it might look if they were seen together. Not that she believed many people here either knew who she was or knew that she had written an article. They were probably safe, but she never felt like it surrounded by politicians and reporters.

“I think it’s the only idea I care about,” he told her as a matter of fact.

She swallowed hard. She knew what his intentions had been that night in VIP. Of course she had known, but without him in her presence she thought that maybe she had imagined how alluring and powerful his appeal was.

“I know I’m keeping you from your cheesecake,” Brady said with a smile, “but you’ll have to forgive me. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“I think I can manage to forgive you,” Liz whispered. If she could be more shocked than she already was, she didn’t think it was possible. He was so forward…so different from all the other guys she was used to. She was sure that was part of his charm, but how could she resist it?

It worried her a bit—a very little bit at the moment—that she didn’t even want to resist him. She had never had the impulsive demeanor of Victoria or the party-girl side of her college friends. Liz’s world was rooted in reality, and she had always liked it that way. But she was starting to think that was only because she had never met anyone quite like Brady Maxwell.

And he was staring at her with an unrivaled intensity. She had the odd feeling that Brady Maxwell was seducing her. He had said that he wanted her at the club, but this…this was entirely different. This was him at his finest, and she wasn’t just happily falling victim to his charming words, gentle touches, piercing eyes, and knowing smiles; she wanted this.

“Liz?” he asked discreetly, brushing his hand up her arm, sending shivers up her spine.

“Yes?” Her eyes fluttered closed at the electricity flowing through her body at his touch. They opened back up to stare into his eyes, and she felt her walls crumbling.

“We should go,” he said, lust evident in his voice.

Even knowing it could be a bad idea, she nodded. “Couldn’t agree more.”

“I have a limo out front. Give the valet this,” Brady told her, pulling a small slip of paper out of his pocket. “I’ll meet you there.”

Liz took the paper out of his hand and without another thought veered toward the door. This was not like her. It was not like her at all. One-night stands weren’t in her repertoire. Yet here she was leaving the Jefferson-Jackson gala that she was supposed to be working for networking contacts to get in Senator Brady Maxwell III’s limo.

How had her world flipped upside down so easily?

Chapter 8

NO ONE ELSE KNOWS

Liz was leaving the gala. She was actually leaving.

She took a deep breath and kept her feet moving toward the valet station. She had to force herself not to look over her shoulder at the party she was leaving behind. The evening was just beginning and she was walking out on the festivities.

It was deserted outside, and Liz briefly wondered if anyone would notice her absence. No one had known she would be in attendance, and she wasn’t a name in journalism. Hayden was the only one who knew she was going to be here, and she didn’t want to think about him right now. Liz tucked her gold clutch under her arm higher and strode to the valet.

“Can I help you, miss?” he asked with a smile.

Liz handed him the slip of paper Brady had given her and waited as he called for the limo. She tried not to think about her decision. If she thought about it too much, she wouldn’t go through with it; she wouldn’t get into that limo. And she knew that if she didn’t, she would regret it forever.

She wasn’t prone to rash actions, but something about Brady made her insides flop. Her body heated despite the weather being balmy, comfortable, and beautifully breezy. She felt more as if she were sitting in the heat of her Tampa home than the cool North Carolina weather.

A long black stretch limo pulled up to the valet and he motioned her over.

“Here you are, miss,” the valet said, pulling the door open for her.

“Thank you,” Liz said, sliding onto the black leather seat. The door closed behind her and cast her into dim lighting.

She looked around, taken with the beautiful sleek interior. An uncorked bottle of champagne chilled in a bucket filled with ice. A flat-screen TV hung against the back wall, and a fully stocked minibar with an assortment of glasses took up a seat on the left.