Bishop (Political Royalty Book 3)
it’s supposed to be.” He closed the distance, wrapping her in his arms. She breathed in the rich scent of his cologne, warm from his body, and desperately hung on to all the reasons why she had to say no. “This is how it is. I love you. I can’t stop loving you. I don’t want to try. Now that I know what loving you feels like—what being loved by you feels like—I’m not willing to go back. I will protect you and I will protect Justin, but I will not give you up.”
    “What about Sandra?”
    “What about her?” he asked, holding her fast, her forehead pressed to his chest.
    “Where does your wife think you are right now?” She knew the word would cut him. It cut her, but faced with Justin’s mirror, she couldn’t pretend what they were doing didn’t have consequences that reached far beyond the two of them.
    “I’m sure she assumes I’m with you.”
    She pulled out of his grip so she could meet his gaze. “You told her about us?”
    After Sandra found them together in the stairwell, Haven assumed she’d figure out something was going on. Their position had been compromising, but not completely compromised. His wife might suspect, but unless Walker told her, there was no way for her to know how far things had gone between them. Sandra could think they were lovers, but she wouldn’t know. Haven had been hanging onto that truth every time she’d been in the other woman’s presence.
    “I told her I didn’t want to lie to her. She won’t ask questions she doesn’t want me to answer.”
    “Your own don’t ask, don’t tell policy?” asked Haven, hoping Walker’s worked better than Clinton’s.
    It was the wrong thought to have. Sandra was no Hillary and she sure as hell wasn’t Monica, but the images playing in her memory of the impeachment trial reminded her of exactly how much they had to lose and how it usually worked out for the wife and the other woman. Needing to put some distance between her and the man she loved beyond reason, she pulled away from him and went to sit on the swivel chair in front of the small desk. The remnants of her and Justin’s makeshift dinner lay scattered across the surface of the desk like a brightly colored reminder of all the ways she’d failed.
    “Listen,” Walker said, closing the distance between them and dropping to his knees in front of her. He gripped her hips with his hands and wedged himself between her knees. Her hands automatically went to rest on his shoulders, her fingertips brushing the bare skin of his neck. “I’m not pretending to have all the answers. Hell, even any of the answers. I don’t know how any of this is going to work out, but I love you, Haven. I’m not turning away from that. I won’t let you turn away either.”
    She didn’t have the words to answer him. Talking didn’t alter things or give them a new understanding of the impossible situation. She didn’t know what to do either and discussion wouldn’t change that. But she believed him, and she believed in him, so she did the only thing she could. She pulled him closer because she couldn’t push him away.
    Walker rested his forehead against her solar plexus, and she curled her body around him, holding him, no closer to an answer than she had been when he walked through her door. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t be in his arms or hold him in hers and deny that she was exactly where she belonged. She’d have planned it a thousand different ways, none of which would have included falling in love with a married man.
    But it just didn’t matter. She hadn’t fallen in love with her married client or the politician or the white knight. She’d fallen in love with the man—flawed, beautiful, broken, and whole. Walker held her heart. She couldn’t reject him any more than she could reject herself. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she tangled her fingers in his hair.
    “Hush, beautiful.” Gripping her ribcage with both hands, he pressed a kiss between her breasts. “Let

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