"By the time I was ten, it was obvious that my parents' marriage was strained." He absently traced a finger along the rim of his coffee cup. "Over the years, my mother's anger and bitterness toward my father increased, and she even grew to resent me, as well."

"What?" she exclaimed incredulously, unable to believe that a mother could blame a child for her unhappiness. "You were just a little boy!"

"One who kept her tied to a man and town that she no longer wanted to be a part of," he said matter-of-factly.

Christine's jaw dropped open. "She told you that?"

"Not directly, no." He hesitated for a moment, then meeting her gaze from across the room, he continued, "I was in bed one night when my mother and father were fighting in the living room. She didn't bother to keep her voice down, and after informing my father that she was filing for a divorce, she went on to tell him that she was tired of being a small-town wife, that she wanted something more exciting than being married to a coal miner and being a PTA mother. By the next morning, she'd packed up her things and she was gone. She didn't even wake me up to say good-bye, and I haven't seen or heard from her since, and I don't care if I ever do."

His tone was so blasé, as if he were relaying someone else's past and not his own horrible memories of a mother who'd turned her back on him without a second thought. But it was the raw pain she detected in the depths of his eyes that told another tale, about a young boy who most likely believed his own mother didn't love him enough to stay, or even fight to take him when she left town.

A lump formed in her throat and it felt as if her own heart were being torn in two. She closed the distance between them, and because he was sitting she didn't hesitate to straddle his lap, her only thought to get as close to him as possible, to let him know that someone cared for the hurt and confused little boy he'd been, and even the man he'd grown to be.

Their position was intimate, but was meant to be more comforting than sexual. She framed his face in her hands, his skin still rough with morning stubble. "I'm so sorry, Ben," she whispered, the ache in her voice real.

Instead of pushing her away or refusing the tenderness she was offering, he placed his hands on her hips, his gaze searching hers. "What for?" he murmured.

"For you and the little boy inside who endured a mother's cruel words and abandonment." She swallowed hard, her anger toward a woman she'd never met a palpable thing. "What kind of mother does that to her only child?"

"A selfish one," he said, meaning it, the harsh tone of his voice leaving no doubt about how he felt toward the woman who'd been his mother for only ten years of his life. "My father couldn't live up to her expectations, and I was more of a nuisance than anything else, so she bailed. The unfortunate part was that my father never stopped loving her, and in order to forget the pain of her walking out on us, he turned to the bottle."

Gently removing her hands from his face, Ben placed her palms on his chest and exhaled a deep breath. "My father was a good, decent man, but my mother completely destroyed him because he wasn't able to give her the kind of life she insisted on. After high school, I took a job in the coal mines, too, but when my father passed away a year later, I decided that there was nothing left for me in the small town of Perry, and I joined the Marines."

And his time in the military, she knew, was a whole other story rife with more pain and heartache. "You've done well with your life," she said, focusing on what he'd accomplished. "Your father would have been proud."

"Thanks." He gingerly eased her off his lap, and she straightened as he stood up, too, obviously ready to put an end to the personal conversation that had dredged up a whole lot of deeply buried and painful emotions for him.

Picking up his coffee mug, he carried it to the sink, then turned around to face her, his expression all serious business. "By the way, I did speak to your father while you were in the shower to let him know what, exactly, happened at the charity event, and he let me know that he received another threat today to drop out of the election, which also made reference to last night's drugging incident with you."

"He better not give in to those ultimatums," she said adamantly. As a family, they'd been in similar situations with his political career, and this campaign for governor was too important for her father to drop out over someone's blackmail attempt.

Ben leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. "He's going forward with the election, but he's definitely concerned about your safety, first and foremost, and we both decided that until the election is over you need to keep a low profile."

She didn't like the way that sounded. "Don't tell me that I have to stay cooped up in this house for the next week and a half. I know I had a close call this time, but I have a business to run and I'm not about to give this jerk the satisfaction of thinking he's scared me off."

Ben chuckled. "Yeah, your father said you'd react just like that, so we came to a compromise. No more public appearances until after the election, and that includes hanging out at Envy with your friends."

She lifted a brow, not at all surprised that he'd made Envy off-limits, which made her wonder if that was due more to the night club's crowded atmosphere, or Craig's presence there. "Whose decision was that?" she asked with a tip of her head. "Yours or my father's?"

"It was a mutual decision."

His expression gave nothing away, but she suspected that Ben was immensely pleased that she'd be keeping her distance from Craig. And honestly, she was fine with that. "I don't have anything scheduled until my birthday party at Envy, but that's after the election. So, until then, I'll keep things low-key."

"Perfect." He nodded his head in satisfaction and pushed away from the counter. "You've had a rough night, so you really should rest and take it easy today. As for me, I have some reports and paperwork to get done."

She recognized his comment as an excuse for him to put some distance between them. She wasn't sure if it was because of their intense conversation about his mother, or something else. But she understood his need to be alone, to think about everything he'd just shared, and for the rest of the day she'd give him the space that he seemed to need.

But come tonight, he was all hers.

Chapter Ten

STANDING in front of Ben's closed bedroom door at quarter after nine in the evening, Christine figured she had two choices. One, to heed all the subtle signals Ben had been giving off all day long to keep things nice and platonic between them, or two, to walk through the door separating her from the man she wanted in more ways than one and proceed to seduce him, and indulge in what surely would be the greatest pleasure she'd ever experienced.

Knowing her time with Ben was limited, her choice didn't require a whole lot of thought or debate. Embracing the latter option, along with her inner vixen, she opened the door and stepped inside the guest bedroom where Ben was reclining on his bed wearing just a pair of boxer briefs and reading a hardback spy novel.

As soon as she entered the room, he immediately sat up and placed his book on the nightstand, his entire body going taut in alert mode. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine," she quickly assured him, and watched as he relaxed somewhat-except for the tentative look in his eyes as he took in what she was wearing. At the moment, all he could see was a bright red silk robe and her absolute favorite Christian Louboutin shoes-a pair of leopard print platform pumps that were lined in red and had a four-inch spiked heel.

"Nice outfit," he said, a hint of wry amusement underscoring his husky voice. "Are you going somewhere?"

She laughed at his attempt to keep things light and humorous when it was so obvious why she was there in his room. Slowly, she strolled toward where he was sitting on the edge of the mattress, and came to a stop in front of him within touching distance.

"The only place I'm going is wherever you take me tonight," she said, and tugged on the sash around her waist. She let the material unravel her like a gift, then let the thin strip of fabric drop to the floor. A sultry shrug of her shoulders, and the coverup slithered down her arms and fell to her feet in a pool of red silk. What she wore beneath-a red, sheer lace bra and matching panties-made Ben groan deep in his throat.

Retrieving the foil packets she'd tucked into her bra for safekeeping, she tossed the trio of condoms onto the bed beside Ben. "I'm yours to do with as you please," she said, daring him to take what she was offering.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, and his hands curled into tight fists on his thighs. "Christine…"

Hearing the beginnings of a rejection starting to form, she pressed her fingers against his lips to stop the words she refused to let him speak. "I want this, and you, so badly, Ben," she whispered achingly. "Please don't tell me no. Not tonight."

Gently, he pulled her hand away from his mouth, his gaze dark with lust and something much more poignant that made her heart skip a beat. "I should tell you no and make you leave, but I can't." His hands slid to her hips, and he pulled her closer, between his spread legs. "I want you too much."

"I'm right where I want to be, Ben." There was so much truth to that statement, and the intensity of emotion she felt in that moment almost frightened her.

He said nothing more. Didn't bother to fight what they both so obviously wanted. In a quick, lithe move, he twisted toward the bed behind him and pulled her with him, lifting her slightly and tumbling her back so that she was sprawled in the middle of the mattress, his for the taking. He moved up next to her, his gaze devouring the soft swells of her breasts nearly spilling from the demi-cups of her bra, the dip and curve of her waist, and the flimsy scrap of lace covering her sex.