Page 34 of The Senator's Secret

“Anything else?” he asks, and the happiness in my chest slips away.

“Yeah,” I say softly like I swallowed something bitter. What if this goes even deeper than I thought? Or worse, what if Jake doesn’t believe me? Will our tentative truce be broken?

“What is it?” He looks suddenly alert. This Jake is all ears. Great.

“Today, I was handed a case that should be a simple divorce, but there’s something about it that just doesn’t feel right,” I answer. “A lot of things aren’t adding up.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it all out,” he says confidently like that solves the entire matter.

I let out a frustrated breath. “There’s more to it than that.”

“How so?”

“I never would have taken a client like this,” I explain as best as I can without breaking attorney-client privilege. “He is immoral, unethical, and I’m pretty sure acting illegally in some ways.”

“So walk away,” he says as if I hadn’t already tried that. I love when men think they can solve all of the world’s problems with a single sentence. How nice it must be to feel like Lord and Master of their entire domain. If only it were that easy.

“I tried,” I tell Jake. “But the managing partner of my firm made sure to let me know that not only is he unwilling to let me walk away from the case but also that your father wouldn’t be happy if I did. And the more I think about it, the more it feels like something is wrong.”

If I was paying closer attention and not lost in my own thoughts, I would have seen his body stiffen before he asks, “Who is the client?”

“Jesse Conners.”

“Stay far fucking away from him and my father,” Jake growls, and it startles me so much I almost jump right out of my seat.

“W-what?” I ask wondering where I missed the change in Jake’s demeanor.

“It’s a setup.” He doesn’t offer any other explanation. His word is final, and in his world, I’m sure it is. “Just stay far away from them and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“And about your dad?” I prompt. What the hell is going on here? A setup? A week or even three days ago, I would have said that that was ridiculous, but now that I’m being threatened with a stack of compromising photos, I can’t help but wonder if anything is possible, or worse, if the two are connected to each other.

“He’s a monster, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from him,” he says, his voice low and vibrating with anger. I feel a shiver snake up my spine. My grandmother would say that someone had just stepped on my grave and I’ve never felt like the saying was more true than right now.

“Oh, okay.”

Jake scoops up our dishes and tosses them in the sink a little harder than necessary and I’m honestly surprised that they don’t break before holding a hand out to me. “Let’s go to bed.”

Panic seeps into every corner of my body. I don’t want to go to bed with this man when he’s this angry. I’m not going to lie; he’s scaring me more than a little bit right now. Maybe with some time, he’ll cool down and then everything will be alright again. So, I make up any excuse I can to buy some time.

“I should really do those dishes,” I tell him. “You go on up, and I’ll be there in a little bit.”

“Mrs. Summers will get them in the morning,” he says as he ushers me toward the stairs.

“Who is Mrs. Summers?” I ask, when what I should be doing is running far and fast.

“The housekeeper,” he answers. “She comes in the mornings after I’m at work.”

“Okay.” That actually makes a lot of sense. This place is super clean, and he doesn’t seem to put a lot of effort into maintaining that.

My desperation to get the fuck out of here mounts as he pushes open the bedroom door, but I’m helpless to do anything but follow my Pied Piper into the room as he sings his less than merry tune. He leaves me standing in the middle of a massive bathroom with all of my face wash and lotions lined up on the sink. I take off my makeup and brush my teeth. By the time I’m done smoothing moisturizer onto my face, Jake prowls out of the closet wearing a pair of low-slung pajama pants. I’m a little taken aback by the image. I would have thought he was more of a sleep naked kind of guy. I guess I was wrong.

“What?” he asks as he stalks closer, clutching a wad of black silk in his fist that he sets on the countertop before he begins peeling my clothes from my body. I’m so surprised by his gentle ministrations that I answer honestly.

“You have pants on.”

“What?” He laughs as he unhooks my bra with nimble fingers.

“You’re wearing pants,” I repeat. “I figured you for a naked sleeper.”