“You did…what?” It wasn’t the first time in their thirty-odd years that she’d wanted to slap Hunter, but it was definitely the closest she’d come to doing so.
When she’d bedded him for the win at the Miss Utah competition, she’d known exactly what she was doing—even if he hadn’t. He’d actually been sweet and surprised.
He also had the balance she’d been seeking of desire for power matched with a slightly directionless aim for it. It would have helped if he’d been a little smarter, but she’d worked with what she’d found. With her guidance, he’d finally become one of the most powerful senators in the entire Congress, and she’d become the “First Lady of DC.”
In answer, Hunter toyed with that stupid Viet Cong knife his father had given him. The thing was creepier than even the judges she’d
