Dynasties: The Danforths. Maureen Child

if you’ll excuse me, I really need to get back to work.”

      Reid watched her turn on her heel and march stiffly out the door.

      “Smooth, Danforth,” he muttered. “Real smooth.”

      Resting a hip on the desk, Reid stared at the door Tina had just disappeared through. It would be easier to just let it go, he told himself, to forget about her and keep his mind completely focused on his work.

      But, he thought, smiling slowly, remembering the feel of her mouth against his, it wouldn’t be nearly as interesting.

       Four

      Tina didn’t make it to the alley before her knees buckled. Struggling to breathe, she stumbled around the corner of the passageway between the buildings and leaned against the wall.

      Reid had kissed her.

      She’d kissed him back.

      Closing her eyes, she laid her head against the cool bricks. A groan rolled deep in her throat.

      And what a kiss.

      Her lips still tingled, her head still reeled, her pulse raced. She glanced down at the tips of her shoes to see if smoke was rising.

      She’d certainly been kissed before, she wasn’t completely inexperienced with men. But she’d never been kissed like that. Never been so overwhelmed. And if he hadn’t asked her that ridiculous question about Jason, she’d probably be rolling around on the floor with Reid at this very moment.

      The thought made her cheeks burn.

      She wasn’t certain if she was glad that they’d stopped before things heated up even more, or if she was irritated.

      Of course I’m glad, she thought, narrowing her eyes. Deliriously glad.

      She touched her mouth. She could still taste him there, could still feel the press of his mouth on hers. An involuntary shudder coursed through her, and she knew she’d be lying if she didn’t at least admit she’d been curious. And maybe, at an unconscious level, she’d actually wanted him to kiss her. After all, she had been the one who’d touched him first. He must have thought she’d been asking—begging—for it, the way she’d put her hands on his head, then combed her fingers through his hair and lightly stroked his head.

      Remembering the soft, thick texture of his hair sliding through her fingers and the touch of his scalp under her fingernails sent a wave of heat shimmering over her skin. She still couldn’t believe she’d done something so…intimate.

      Couldn’t believe her fingers itched to do it again.

      A welcome breeze rippled through the alley, cooling her blood and her skin, finally bringing her overloaded senses back to a manageable level. Once again, reason prevailed.

      You’re making too big a deal about this, she told herself. Men like Reid kissed women all the time. It didn’t mean anything to him, for heaven’s sake, and it shouldn’t mean anything to her, either.

      “It doesn’t,” she said, needing to hear herself say it out loud. Reid had caught her off guard, that was all. In the future, she’d be more careful around him.

      She’d also have to warn Jason to be more careful, she realized. If her parents found out about him—Tina shuddered at the thought—there would be hell to pay.

      But there was no reason for them to find out, she told herself. Reid didn’t know anything. He’d been fishing, and he’d come up with an empty hook.

      She intended to keep it that way.

      At seven forty-five that evening, Abraham Danforth’s campaign headquarters had officially been open for fifteen minutes. The scent of fresh-brewed coffee and still-warm cookies wafted through the already crowded room. Music, upbeat instrumentals meant more to inspire than entertain, flowed from an overhead sound system, but could barely be heard over the excited conversations of volunteers and newly hired campaign staff. Because the man of the hour hadn’t arrived yet, anticipation increased with each passing minute.

      Reid, arms folded, leaning against the back wall of the room, watched the activity buzzing around him. His family was scattered throughout the room: Kimberly sat at a guest book table; Adam manned the volunteer schedule; his cousin Jake was currently charming Matilda Henning, the president of the Savannah Women’s Historical League. Nicola Granville, wearing an Honest Abe II campaign button on the lapel of her navy blue blazer and a straw Danforth for Senator hat tucked neatly over her red hair, made her way through the throng of people and personally greeted each and every one of them.

      Abraham might be the heart of the campaign, but the volunteers were the lifeblood. Without them, no amount of publicity or money could win an election.

      But there was really only one volunteer—albeit a reluctant one—that had caught Reid’s attention and he shifted his gaze to Tina.

      Wearing tan linen slacks and a black turtleneck, she stood by the refreshment table with Jason, a cup of punch in her hand, listening politely to an animated, balding man dressed in an oversize gray suit. She appeared cool and composed and even interested in what the man was saying to her, but when he turned away from her to grab another cookie from a tray, Tina’s boredom flashed in her eyes.

      Reid smiled, even considered saving her. It would be easy to make his way over there and tell her she had a phone call in the back office. But he wasn’t so sure she would appreciate the gesture, not with Jason standing there, and especially not after what had happened between them this afternoon.

      Not that he was really sure what had happened. He’d kissed her, she’d kissed him back, they’d both enjoyed it—that much he knew. Everything else was just a little fuzzy. Maybe he had hit his head too hard, he thought, though it certainly hadn’t knocked any sense into him.

      Because all he’d thought about since he’d kissed her was kissing her again.

      From the moment Tina had walked into campaign headquarters with Rachel and Jason a few minutes ago, Reid had been very aware of the fact that she’d kept her distance from him. She hadn’t even glanced in his direction. It would certainly make sense that with her boyfriend here, she might want to avoid the man she’d been in a lip lock with just a few hours earlier.

      But what she couldn’t avoid was the unspoken tension still lingering between them. It didn’t matter that she was on the other side of the room, it was there nonetheless. He knew it, and he knew that she knew it, too.

      Whether she would admit it or not was another issue.

      “A friend of yours?”

      Reid turned at the sound of Ian’s voice, annoyed that his brother had caught him staring. “Who?”

      Ian took a sip of his coffee, then grinned that annoying I’m-your-brother-you-can’t-fool-me grin. “Not the type you usually go for, is she?”

      Refusing to answer his question or rise to the bait, Reid simply lifted a brow. “And exactly what type is it you seem to think I go for?”

      “Dim-witted debutantes,” Ian said, cocking his head. “High-society heiresses, soporific society girls.”

      Reid frowned. So maybe a few of the women he’d dated had been a little shallow, he thought irritably. Or maybe just a little low in the brain cell department. So what? He’d been looking for company, not commitment. And Ian, of all people, who’d avoided any kind of relationship since his divorce, was hardly one to talk.

      “For your information,” Reid said dryly, “her father owns Castle Bakery.”

      “Ah. One of the Alexander daughters.” Ian nodded, then sipped his coffee again as he glanced across the room at Tina. “Jake and I have talked about adding some new items to D&D’s. Maybe I should go introduce myself.”

      Reid