Private Indiscretions Read Online Free Page B

Monday.”
    â€œAnd the margin of error?”
    â€œPlus or minus thirty points.”
    After a moment she laughed. “I suppose it’ll be old news by tomorrow.”
    â€œFor the general population maybe.”
    â€œIt’s the voters that count.”
    â€œThen I think you’re safe,” he said. “Politicians, on the other hand…”
    â€œYou don’t have to tell me, Sam. I’ve been part of the process since I was twenty.”
    A beat passed. “Is that when you met your late husband?”
    â€œYes.” She didn’t want to discuss Randall. There had to be some rule of etiquette that said you shouldn’t talk about the man you loved with the man you lusted after. “So, about the medal.”
    To his credit he didn’t miss a beat at the change of subject. “I’ll be in L.A. tomorrow, but I’m actually in San Francisco at the moment. I’ve got an eleven o’clock flight tonight. I could swing by your office.”
    He was in San Francisco and he hadn’t called before now. Not interested. The words might as well be flashing in neon. “The medal’s at home,” she said coolly. “I’mheaded there now. You’re welcome to stop by, or I can still mail it.”
    â€œI’ll stop by.”
    Really? Another mixed message. “Okay. My address is—”
    â€œI know where you live. See you in half an hour.”
    Dana listened to the dial tone for a few seconds before cradling the phone. She liked his confidence, had always been attracted to confident men—
    He knows where I live?
    A quick knock on the door preceded Maria’s entrance. “About tomorrow?”
    â€œDon’t cancel my appointments. I’ll go to the L.A. office next week, as planned.” She took a final glance at her desk to see if she’d missed anything. “Now, go home.”
    â€œI will if you will.”
    â€œWe’ll walk each other to our cars.” Dana scooped up her briefcase and jacket then stepped into her shoes. Energy replaced exhaustion. Sam was coming.
    Â 
    Sam pressed the intercom button outside Dana’s security gate, then pulled into her driveway when the iron gate swung open. He studied the Pacific Heights home, as he had the day before from outside the fence. She didn’t live in a house but a mansion, magnificent in its grandeur but not ostentatious, the front-yard landscaping established and unfussy.
    Architecture was Sam’s passion. He’d looked up the history of this particular house: Mediterranean-style, built shortly after the 1906 earthquake, dominated by a red tile roof and terra-cotta colored textured stucco. The knoll-top parcel had a panoramic view from its lush rear garden of the Golden Gate Bridge, San Francisco Bay and the Presidio.
    Randall Sterling had been born to money.
    Sam had conducted his own research on the man when he’d first read about Dana marrying him. His rise in politicsbegan in high school as student-body president, continued at Stanford, then went into public arenas, on committees and boards. He was voted in as congressman when he was only twenty-eight, serving twelve years before being elected to the Senate. He’d finished one six-year term and two years of a second term before dying of a massive heart attack while jogging in Golden Gate Park almost two and a half years ago.
    The charismatic, beloved and respected Randall Sterling was a true man of the people. He’d earned Sam’s vote. And now his widow sat in his place. No scandal had ever touched her husband or her, the only gossip the twenty-year age difference, and the fact she worked for him.
    Sam had thought about her a lot through the years, had even fantasized seeing her again, but had made no effort. He hadn’t been in a position to.
    Now he was.
    And now he couldn’t.
    He glanced at his watch and calculated the time until his flight. He’d allowed himself