Scandalous

Justin kept a subtle eye on the guest of honor for the early part of the evening—over the rim of his champagne glass, throughout the six-course meal, from a corner shaded by a blooming potted tree, and from the center of the dance floor, where he glided effortlessly with an array of faceless beauties.

Her every movement was fluid and almost choreographed in its perfection, Justin thought. Her shimmering spaghetti-strap black gown dotted with countless black sequins and tiny rhinestones, fit that lithe body like a glove. Damn! Every time he looked at her, his thoughts ran off in dangerous directions and his body threatened to let everyone know exactly what was on his mind.

He continued to watch Vaughn closely, waiting for his opportunity to approach her, when he saw District Attorney Paul Lawrence go up to her, accompanied by a woman who hung onto his arm. Justin had paid such close attention to Vaughn for the better part of the evening that he instantly sensed her tension upon the arrival of Paul Lawrence. He waited for the flash of dimples, but the smile never came, and Justin cautiously waited with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“Vaughn, it’s good to see you again,” Paul greeted her, showing her his famous campaign smile.

“Paul. It’s been awhile,” Vaughn replied in a monotone.

“This is Victoria Fleming. Vikki, Vaughn Hamilton, our guest of honor.”

Victoria stuck out her pale porcelain hand and smiled effusively, her shimmering red hair glistening in the light. “This is a wonderful party,” Vikki said, apparently oblivious to the tension that sparked like electricity between Paul and Vaughn. “I wish you the best of luck with your campaign.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

Paul tightened his hold on Victoria’s waist. “Vaughn doesn’t need luck. She has a judge for a father,” Paul taunted, the smile never leaving his face.

Vaughn felt as if she’d been slapped, but she didn’t miss a beat. “You would know,” she tossed back coolly.

Paul’s hazel eyes darkened and his honey-toned skin flushed. “If there’s anything my office can do,” Paul said, “do give me a call. You know I’d be happy to help in any way that I can.”

“I’m sure. Nice to meet you, Vikki.” She inclined her head to Paul, turned, and walked away, her fury barely contained as she headed for the terrace, her heels beating a vicious rhythm against the marble floor.

She gripped the rail of the balcony with such force, her fingertips began to burn from the pressure.

“Can I refresh that drink, Ms. Hamilton?”

Vaughn turned with a start, but all traces of her distress were masked, by her public face. She stared into the searching brown eyes. Her stomach fluttered. “Mr. Hamilton.”

“Justin,” he corrected.

She cleared her throat and looked down at her half empty glass. “No, thank you…Justin. I’m not really a drinker.”

“I know,” he grinned. “You’ve been nursing that for hours.”

Vaughn felt a rush of embarrassment sweep through her, but it was quickly replaced with a sense of warning. “You’re very observant,” she replied pointedly.

Justin stepped closer and leaned his hip against the rail. The soft, sensual scent of her floated to him, momentarily clouding his thoughts. His eyes settled on her upturned face and he realized that he’d never before seen a woman with such flawless ebony skin. It seemed to radiate with a vitality that was magnified by sculpted cheekbones and large, luminous brown eyes that must surely peer into one’s soul. And that mouth! What would those luscious lips feel like, pressed against his?

“Is something wrong?” she asked, beginning to feel as if she were being disrobed.

“That was my next question to you,” he said, recovering smoothly.

Vaughn tilted her head in question. “I beg your pardon?”

Justin angled his chin in the direction of Paul and his date. “Mr. Lawrence seemed to have rubbed you the wrong way,” he stated casually.

Vaughn turned away to look out onto the expansive lawn below. “Have you spent your entire evening watching me?” she asked, both flattered and defensive.

“Pretty much,” Justin said, a hint of amusement rippling through his deep voice.

Vaughn turned to look at him and saw the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of his lips.

“It seems I’m learning an awful lot about you very quickly…Justin. You’re observant and blunt. Is there anything else I should know?”

“There’s plenty.” He stepped a bit closer and her pulse raced. “Unfortunately, it would take a lot longer than one night to reveal it all.”

Her heart beat so fast she was afraid she’d stop breathing altogether. Why did he have to look at her like that—as though he were truly interested in her. She had yet to meet a man who didn’t want her because of her power and political influence. Paul was a perfect example of that. She was sure that this Justin Montgomery was no different. Her defenses kicked in. She was sure he had an agenda, and she wasn’t going to be on his itinerary of things to do.

Vaughn took a deep, steadying breath and exhaled. “Well, Justin, that’s a great line. However, I’m not interested.”

“Hmmm, very defensive,” he said, stifling a chuckle.

Her dark eyes flashed until she caught the gleam of amusement in his. She suddenly felt totally ridiculous for acting like a shrew.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally. She looked around, her dark eyes sweeping across the throng of guests who had come to contribute to her nomination campaign. “I don’t really like fundraisers,” she admitted on a long sigh.

“Who would?” he agreed gently. “Who would like pretending to adore a bunch of stuffed shirts.”

She smiled. “I’m glad you understand,” she replied softly, surprising herself at her candor. He was a perfect stranger.

Justin turned and braced his hip against the balcony railing. Vaughn stood with her back to it. Inches separated them.

“Why are you involved, then,” he asked, “in politics? If you don’t like…all this?”

Vaughn sighed wistfully. “Maybe one day I’ll tell you all about it.” She took a sip of the warm wine.

Why did I say that? she wondered.

Justin turned sideways and looked down at her. “I hope that’s a platform promise, Ms. Hamilton, because I intend to hold you to it.”

She gazed up at him and saw the warm sincerity in his eyes and let the caress of his voice wash over her.

She swallowed hard, and their eyes held for what seemed an eternity. She didn’t realize that he’d taken the glass from her hand, and she couldn’t find her voice to either accept or decline when he swept her onto the dance floor.

The band was playing a slow, bluesy Nancy Wilson song, and Vaughn felt her tense body slowly begin to relax in the comforting embrace of Justin’s arms. Their bodies seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces, Vaughn realized with alarm.

They danced in silence through three numbers before Justin spoke. “Actually,” he said, speaking into the silky texture of her upswept hair, “you’d make an excellent politician.”

Vaughn arched her neck to look quizzically up at him. Her dimples flashed for the first time in hours. “Why is that?”

“You have a knack for evading direct questions.”

“I am a politician,” Vaughn snapped. “What do you mean?” she said more softly.

“You very skillfully avoided answering me about Paul Lawrence. He seemed to have upset you earlier.” Then he smiled sheepishly. “I couldn’t help but notice.”

“Some things are better left unsaid,” she answered quietly.