Private Indiscretions Read Online Free

I’m always careful.”
    Lilith seemed about to say something but stood instead, her hand resting on her belly. “Baby’s finally gone to sleep. That’s my cue.”
    Five minutes later Dana went to her bedroom. The familiarity of the space that hadn’t changed in all these years held a kind of comfort she hadn’t felt for a long time. She stood at the open window, her long-buried needs doing battle with her longer-held sense of responsibility—to everyone but herself. She’d felt… female tonight. Sexy. And Sam had barely touched her.
    Sam. He’d intruded in her thoughts for years and years. A question without answer. A temptation without satisfaction. Not even a kiss at the end of the prom. She’d wanted to kiss him tonight. Dancing with him, being held by him, had made her want more. A lot more.
    Dana leaned her cheek against the window frame and stared at the stars. She was achingly lonely, but she wasn’t in a position to do anything about it, not at this point. Nor could she tell Lilith the truth about her bid for reelection. Dana had made up her mind, but she couldn’t make that decision public for another two months. There was too much riding on it. A promise was a promise.
    As she lowered the sash to close off the night air, Danaheard a car engine start. Headlights came on from about fifty feet up the road. A black sedan headed slowly down the hill and passed in front of her parents’ house. She relaxed. Harley would drive a truck. So would his friends.
    It was probably a couple of teenagers necking—she looked at the clock and saw it was 1:00 a.m.—and breaking the midnight curfew, a long tradition in Miner’s Camp.
    Ah, adolescence. Years ago she’d been an hour late. Her parents caught her tiptoeing into the house, and she was punished by having certain privileges taken away, like no solo dating for a month. At the time it seemed too harsh for a first offense.
    In reality it had been good preparation for her public life now, where first offenses mattered enormously. She’d been careful not to make any—until now. She should’ve corrected Candi’s statement that she was running for reelection right when it happened, no excuses, before it became the problem she expected it would become.
    Because now when she made a mistake, she wasn’t accountable to two loving parents but to millions of people—friend and foe. The repercussions had probably already begun.

Three
    T uesday evening Dana rested her elbows on her desk, propped her chin on her fists and studied her calendar for the rest of the month. Congress was in recess, but she was busier than ever. August was supposed to be a time to reconnect with constituents. So far, all she’d done was reconnect with the media.
    She leaned back in her leather chair and closed her eyes, the hectic pace of the past few days not only catching up but hitting hard. She’d skipped the Sunday reunion picnic to head back to her San Francisco office to deal with the anticipated backlash of Candi’s unfortunate misstatement, and had been home only long enough to sleep and shower since then.
    In need of damage control, she’d sent for her communications director and press secretary from her Washington, D.C., office. Her chief of staff and director of state operations had apartments in San Francisco and met her at the office. More than a dozen staffers had given up their Sunday. They’d bustled in and out. Phones rang, the fax machine churned, meetings overlapped.
    Sunday, Monday and Tuesday blurred into one long day. She’d been on the phone to party leaders, Senate leaders, and even her parents, who’d read the news in the Orlando newspaper before she could contact them.
    The quiet of her office suddenly surrounded Dana. She’d sent everyone home, although a few still lingered, wrapping things up. She would go home herself if she could work up the energy to