reflection in the mirrored walls of the elevator. The long, strapless blackgown hugged her curves like a mummy’s wrapping. Not really her favorite choice of clothing. Shorts anda halter top would have been more to her liking.
She applied some lipstick and tucked her chin-length hair behind her ears, comparing her appearance tothe Playboy centerfold who’d just been escorted from the elevator.
Not even close. She had decent-sized breasts, but they certainly weren’t as impressive as the blonde’s. Her waist dipped in nicely, but she had a little more prominent hippage than Miss “I Eat Carrots For Breakfast, Lunch And Dinner”.
At least she had nice green eyes with a little rim of blue around them. Her father had always told her thather eyes were her best feature. She wasn’t certain if that was a true compliment or his way of playingdown the rest of her, which was, sad to say, only average. From her brown hair to her not-model-sizedbody, she really was as nondescript as they came.
Then again, when had she ever cared about how she looked? Just because she’d attended thesefunctions for two years and not once had Jason Devlin noticed her. Which didn’t mean she should beconcerned about her appearance.
After all, she was only planning to interview him, not fuck him.
When she reached the penthouse, she peeked out the elevator door, breathing a sigh of relief that nosecurity guards manned the hallway. She slipped out and positioned herself near the window by the doorto Devlin’s suite, determined to confront him and refuse to take no for an answer. Tonight, she’d havesome one-on-one time with the elusive senator.
The sounds of sirens outside blared in the distance, an everyday occurrence in the nation’s capitol. To Kelsey, they were like a comforting lullaby. She’d cut her teeth in a gritty newspaper office and hadlearned everything about the business from the ground up. After her mother died when she was a toddler,her only influence had been her father, and he knew nothing about raising girls. He’d taught her aboutjournalism instead.
Of course, she’d never tell her father, the award-winning Walter Harper, that her favorite things to readwere the gossip rags. He frowned on her exposés about the nation’s elite, but always let her printwhatever she thought best. Because of his faith in her, she never pushed the envelope between what wasnews and what was trash. Every story she wrote could be backed up with proof.
Tonight, she hoped to garner a little “truth” about Jason Devlin. If he was feeling generous, maybe he’dinvite her into his suite for an interview.
* * * * *
The ballroom was filled to capacity at The Sadler, D.C.’s premier hotel. Senator Jason Devlin hadshaken so many hands and smiled for so many cameras, his hand and face hurt.
All he really wanted to do was run through the park until the tension knotting his muscles relaxed. Thatwouldn’t happen for awhile, though. Instead, he was dressed up in his usual monkey suit, smiling, talkingand fending off reporters’ questions about why the capitol’s most eligible bachelor wasn’t dating anyone.
They probably thought he was gay. Good. Better than knowing the truth about him. It wasn’t like hecould date just anyone. Not with his quirks and strange life. Someday, maybe, he’d find a mate. But he’dchoose from those among his kind, never a human. Humans couldn’t be trusted to keep his secrets.
He searched the crowd for his cousin, Brandon King, who was also his aide and beta. He needed to get
out of here and couldn’t break through the throng of people following him around as if the very act of taking a sip of champagne was newsworthy. Sometimes he hated this part of his job. Politics was for change, not headlines, but because of his looks and the fact he was thirty-eight years old and single, his love life made more news than his policies.
Brandon approached and sidled beside him. “Need out?”
“Hell yeah. I
She applied some lipstick and tucked her chin-length hair behind her ears, comparing her appearance tothe Playboy centerfold who’d just been escorted from the elevator.
Not even close. She had decent-sized breasts, but they certainly weren’t as impressive as the blonde’s. Her waist dipped in nicely, but she had a little more prominent hippage than Miss “I Eat Carrots For Breakfast, Lunch And Dinner”.
At least she had nice green eyes with a little rim of blue around them. Her father had always told her thather eyes were her best feature. She wasn’t certain if that was a true compliment or his way of playingdown the rest of her, which was, sad to say, only average. From her brown hair to her not-model-sizedbody, she really was as nondescript as they came.
Then again, when had she ever cared about how she looked? Just because she’d attended thesefunctions for two years and not once had Jason Devlin noticed her. Which didn’t mean she should beconcerned about her appearance.
After all, she was only planning to interview him, not fuck him.
When she reached the penthouse, she peeked out the elevator door, breathing a sigh of relief that nosecurity guards manned the hallway. She slipped out and positioned herself near the window by the doorto Devlin’s suite, determined to confront him and refuse to take no for an answer. Tonight, she’d havesome one-on-one time with the elusive senator.
The sounds of sirens outside blared in the distance, an everyday occurrence in the nation’s capitol. To Kelsey, they were like a comforting lullaby. She’d cut her teeth in a gritty newspaper office and hadlearned everything about the business from the ground up. After her mother died when she was a toddler,her only influence had been her father, and he knew nothing about raising girls. He’d taught her aboutjournalism instead.
Of course, she’d never tell her father, the award-winning Walter Harper, that her favorite things to readwere the gossip rags. He frowned on her exposés about the nation’s elite, but always let her printwhatever she thought best. Because of his faith in her, she never pushed the envelope between what wasnews and what was trash. Every story she wrote could be backed up with proof.
Tonight, she hoped to garner a little “truth” about Jason Devlin. If he was feeling generous, maybe he’dinvite her into his suite for an interview.
* * * * *
The ballroom was filled to capacity at The Sadler, D.C.’s premier hotel. Senator Jason Devlin hadshaken so many hands and smiled for so many cameras, his hand and face hurt.
All he really wanted to do was run through the park until the tension knotting his muscles relaxed. Thatwouldn’t happen for awhile, though. Instead, he was dressed up in his usual monkey suit, smiling, talkingand fending off reporters’ questions about why the capitol’s most eligible bachelor wasn’t dating anyone.
They probably thought he was gay. Good. Better than knowing the truth about him. It wasn’t like hecould date just anyone. Not with his quirks and strange life. Someday, maybe, he’d find a mate. But he’dchoose from those among his kind, never a human. Humans couldn’t be trusted to keep his secrets.
He searched the crowd for his cousin, Brandon King, who was also his aide and beta. He needed to get
out of here and couldn’t break through the throng of people following him around as if the very act of taking a sip of champagne was newsworthy. Sometimes he hated this part of his job. Politics was for change, not headlines, but because of his looks and the fact he was thirty-eight years old and single, his love life made more news than his policies.
Brandon approached and sidled beside him. “Need out?”
“Hell yeah. I
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