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She nodded again. “You never returned my calls.”

“Because I realized that you only call or show up when things go wrong. When you can take control and do what Sophie Jordan does best-dig up the facts, tell people how to handle things and generally run the show-you’re a great sister and I bet you’re an even better friend.”

He wasn’t exactly listing bad qualities. Confusion raced through her. “I don’t understand.”

He tipped his head to the side and studied her. “The thing is, I don’t need another friend. I love you, Sophie Jordan. But I want the person I love to be by my side in good times and in bad. I don’t want someone who shows up to lend a shoulder and who runs away from things that feel too good.”

“I don’t-”

“You do,” he said emphatically. “You most certainly do run away any time you think I’ve gotten too close.” He slowly stepped closer, invading her space.

She couldn’t breathe as it was, but now when she inhaled she was overcome by his scent, by all that was Riley, and was forced to admit to herself she loved him, too.

She just couldn’t say the words out loud, fear pummeling her from all sides. And the more he spoke, the more she realized he knew her better than she knew herself.

He placed an arm against the wall above her head. “You lost your parents and you cope by controlling things around you, but here’s the kicker. You can’t control love. And that scares you so badly you’re willing to walk away from a damn good thing before I leave you first. Or before, on the off chance, something happens and I die on you. Just as your parents did,” he said, his voice softening, melting her defenses and breaking her heart.

Tears filled her eyes and she didn’t bother to wipe them away, nor could she summon a reply for Riley. She didn’t have an answer that would satisfy him because he was so dead-on accurate it was scary.

Cindy had said much the same things, but coming from a friend, it had sounded like psychobabble. Coming from the man who was causing all the emotional turmoil gave it that much more impact.

“Don’t worry. I don’t expect you to return the sentiment.” His eyes flashed with a mixture of irritation and disappointment at the same time. “But that’s my whole point. You can’t say the words. Hell, I don’t even know if you can feel them.” He ran his hand through his hair, leaving it spiked and disheveled.

“That’s unfair.” Sophie trembled, unable to believe the depths to which this conversation had gone. “I didn’t even know how you felt before now.”

“Would it have mattered?” He set his jaw, his mind obviously already made up.

She looked inside her heart and asked that same question. Would it have mattered? Could she commit to him even now that she knew he was in love with her? Could she give him the words he wanted to hear, knowing she was in love with him, too?

She swallowed hard and met his gaze, the fear of losing him all-consuming. But the fear of committing to someone and not knowing exactly what would come next was too overwhelming for her to contemplate.

She reached out and touched his cheek, as she answered his question in the most honest way she could. “Probably not,” she said, ducking beneath his arm and running from his apartment far and fast. Running from him and everything he made her feel.

SPENCER ARRIVED at The Waldorf Astoria hotel for his meeting with Senator Harlan Nash. He wasn’t early. He wasn’t fashionably late. He was exactly on time. He didn’t know if he should be thanking Yank or wanting to murder him for encouraging-or more like forcing him-to set up this appointment.

He knocked on the door and the other man promptly answered and let him inside. There was no need for a formal “hello” or “how are you.”

Spencer settled into a seat in the spacious outer room of the suite.

“Drink?” Senator Nash asked.

“Whiskey,” Spencer said.

“I think I’ll join you.” The senator poured them each a shot and then sat, sliding Spencer’s glass toward him on the table by the couch.

When they both had their drinks in hand, they stared each other down until, finally, Spencer had had enough. “Can we agree on one thing? That we both have Riley’s best interest at heart?”

Harlan nodded. “We always have.”

“And for all these years, you’ve done my job,” Spencer admitted. “You raised my son to be a damn fine man and for that I owe you.” The words didn’t come easily, but they were long overdue.

“Before you go on, there’s something you should know.” Harlan rose and paced the carpeted floor. “This news leak was the last thing I needed in my career. And public humiliation is the last thing I wanted for my family.”

Spencer nodded. “It’s been no picnic for me, either,” he muttered. “And if you think I stayed out of my son’s life all these years only to have him find out anyway, you’d be sadly mistaken.”

The senator paused and turned to face Spencer. “Then you’d understand if I told you I would have done almost anything to ensure the news never came out.”

Spencer allowed himself to enjoy the burn of the whiskey as it traveled down his throat before replying. “Your point?” Spencer finally asked, unwilling to let this powerful man think he was rattled or thrown by either their meeting or whatever the senator had to say.

Although Spencer had called for this meeting, the other man had agreed readily and obviously had an agenda of his own. Which was fine with Spencer, since he hadn’t let the other man in on what he wanted out of this talk. Not yet, anyway.

“What we say tonight never leaves this room,” Harlan said, his words more a command than a question.

Spencer nodded. “Agreed, although I have to wonder why you’d take me at my word.”

The other man downed his drink and poured himself another. “Because you’re Riley’s flesh and blood and anything said here tonight can only hurt him. Since you spent a lifetime making certain that never happened, I have no choice but to trust you now.”

“You mean since I spent a lifetime staying away from him?”

Harlan nodded. “I can’t imagine you’d waste all those years of doing the right thing just to get back at me.”

Spencer exhaled hard. “No more games, Senator.”

“In November I have an election against a tough opponent. I needed every edge I could find against a man who isn’t afraid to fight dirty,” Harlan said, beginning to explain at last. “When the news broke about your lifestyle,” he said choosing a diplomatic term, “the last thing I needed was someone making the connection between you and my family.”

Spencer nodded. “So far I’m following you.”

“I also knew Riley had tracked you down and extracted a promise that you wouldn’t suddenly decide that with one secret revealed it was time to let the rest of the skeletons out of the closet and admit he was your son.” The senator shoved his hands into his front pants pockets and stared vacantly, his mind obviously preoccupied with telling his tale.

He’d certainly captured Spencer’s interest. “Something tells me my word wasn’t enough.”

Harlan let out a harsh laugh. “Not in that particular case. I needed you too preoccupied to even think about bonding with your son or talking to the media.”

Spencer narrowed his gaze. “So you…”

“Paid someone to sabotage you. Nothing that would destroy your business for good. Just a little something to keep you busy.”

Realization dawned at once, anger surging up like bile in his throat. “The computer crash? The break-in? The camera in Sophie’s bathroom?

“The camera was a dud, but you must admit all those things gave you little time to think about your personal life or any desire to reconcile with Riley.” The senator raised an eyebrow, obviously pleased with his success.

Spencer clenched his hands around the glass. “You have brass balls, Senator.”