“Won't you?”
“Nope. It wouldn't bother me at all. But since it evidently will bother you, forget I suggested it.”
Although her misgivings were increasing by the minute, Syneda felt like a complete heel. The last thing she wanted was to be a bore, especially after he had been nice enough to invite her on this trip with him. “We'll go.”
Clayton shook his head. “We can do something else.”
“No, I'm fine with going.”
“Are you sure?”
“I'm positive.”
“All right. I'll make reservations.”
Syneda stood quickly, collecting her empty wineglass. She smiled down at him, although inwardly she struggled with uncertainty. “Well, I guess I'll retire early. It was a tiring day.”
Clayton couldn't help but look up at her. His eyes scanned her, beginning with the polished toes of her bare feet to the golden-bronze hair atop her head. He met her eyes. He could almost drown in them and wondered why he had never felt like doing so before. Then there was that cute little dimple that appeared in her cheek each time she smiled. Why did he suddenly find it totally alluring? His senses began spinning. The scent of her perfume seemed to float around him. It was as sensuous as he found her to be. He inhaled deeply as a need as primitive as mankind touched him. “All right, Syneda. I'll see you in the morning,” he replied huskily.
Syneda took a deep breath and feigned a yawn. “Not too early though. I can barely keep my eyes open so I may sleep in late tomorrow. If I'm not up by the time you want breakfast just go on without me. I'll grab something later. Good night.” She hurried off to her bedroom.
As soon as she was in the privacy of her bedroom, Syneda rushed into the connecting bathroom. The reflection staring back almost startled her. Her features were basically the same, except she had gotten a little browner from the time she had spent in the sun. But that wasn't the only noticeable difference. Her eyes were glazed with a look that definitely spelled trouble. What bothered her was the fact Clayton Madaris was the one responsible for that look being there. And to make matters worse, she would be spending tomorrow night with him on board a romance cruise ship.
Good grief! What am I going to do? I'm becoming attracted to Clayton Madaris!
“Wake up, sleepyhead.”
Syneda heard the deep masculine sound in her ear at the same moment she felt the warm breath on her neck. She opened one eye slowly, then the other. Her eyes met the sparkling brown ones that held a flicker of mischief in their dark depth. She became instantly wide-awake.
“Clayton! What are you doing in here?”
Clayton was lying down beside her, facing her. “I came to make sure you were still alive.”
Syneda became aware of her state of dress and tugged her nightshirt down. “Of course I'm alive. I told you last night that I'd probably sleep through breakfast. Did you forget?”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “No, I didn't forget. I just didn't think you meant you would also sleep through lunch.”
“Lunch! What time is it?”
“Around one-thirty.”
“One-thirty! I didn't mean to sleep so late,” she said, pulling herself up in a sitting position. She forced her gaze from his lips, full and inviting. Somehow they had never intrigued her before as they were doing now.
“You must have really been tired.”
“Yes, I was.” She didn't bother to add that she had lain awake most of the night thinking about him. She suddenly felt uncomfortable at his closeness, and a confusing rush of desire whirled inside her. He was dressed in a blue pullover shirt and a pair of white shorts. The masculine fragrance of his cologne was beginning to dull her senses.
She suddenly realized while she had been staring at him, he'd been doing likewise with her. “I need to get dressed.”
“Don't let me stop you. Just pretend that I'm not here.”
“Fat chance, Clayton Madaris!”
Clayton laughed throatily, and a disarmingly generous smile extended to his eyes. “I was afraid you'd say that.”
Syneda watched him stretch his body before standing. “Okay, Miss Walters, I'll leave you to dress in peace. But if you're not ready to go in twenty minutes, I'm coming back for you.”
Syneda watched as he left the room, closing the door behind him. She tried going back into her mind, into central control, to reset her emotions. She was not ready for the thoughts and feelings she'd begun having around Clayton.
“Senator, I'm glad you're back, sir. How was your trip?”
“The trip was nice, Braxter. It's always good to get away and spend some time with an old friend.” Senator Nedwyn Lansing studied the young man in front of him. As a senator's top aide, Braxter Montgomery at the age of thirty was the best there was. A graduate of Georgetown University, he had begun working for him over six years ago, serving him through almost two full terms. During that time he had gotten to know Braxter as well as the other members of his immediate staff. They were people he could depend on. But only a few he felt he could trust completely. Braxter was one of them.
“Is something bothering you, Braxter?”
“There's nothing bothering me, sir. But there is something I'm concerned about.”
“You worry too much.”
“I'm supposed to. That's part of my job.”
The senator nodded. “All right. Let's sit and talk.”
The two men took seats that were facing each other. “Okay, let's have it, Braxter. What's so concerning that you've missed lunch?”
Braxter eyed the forty-nine-year-old, light-complexioned black man with hazel eyes sitting across from him. He was a man he highly respected. Most people did. Where most senators did good things for their image, Senator Lansing did good things for the people he represented. He was often referred to by the media as the “people's servant.” His life was an open book.
It was a known fact he'd been a sharecropper's son from a small town in Texas not far from the border. His mother had died when he was five. With hard work and dedication, he had completed high school and because of his academic achievements, he had obtained a four-year scholarship to attend the University of Texas in Houston.
It was also well-known that he had never been married, although he'd been steadily dating a law professor at Howard University for the past couple of years. The only thing that had always puzzled Braxter was the senator's annual trip to Texas this time every year; the one he had just returned from. It was a trip he never talked about, other than to say he had gone to visit a friend.
“What I'm concerned about, sir, is your blockage of the Harris Bill.”
Senator Lansing raised a brow. “What about it? That bill needed to be blocked. I flatly refuse to support any legislation that proposes cuts in education.”
“Yes, Senator, and I agree with you. But blocking that bill won't be a popular move on your part. Especially with certain people.”
The senator nodded, knowing Braxter was referring to the creator of the bill, John Harris, and a few other senators who were considered Harris's cronies. “I can't waste my time worrying about some people, Braxter. I want to do what's right for the majority of the people in this country, not just a limited, socially acceptable few. Every child regardless of race, creed, color or social standing is entitled to a good education.”
Braxter smiled. He enjoyed seeing the senator fired up over an important issue. But his job as a senator's aide was to make him aware of what he could possibly be up against. Especially since the kickoff