What if you can’t help but hurt the person you love?
Kat Cullen has it all—a staff writer position at the New York Times, beauty, independence—until she finds herself alone on the subway at night with a rapist. Saved by Alex Summer, a democratic candidate running for mayor of New York, she develops an unexpected friendship with him.
Alex’s chaotic past is the kind of juicy scoop every political reporter dreams of—which is why he keeps it hidden. But as he starts falling in love with Kat, he opens up to her about his darkest secrets. What he doesn’t know is that Kat already knows all about him, and she’s on an assignment to expose his history.
Caught between truth, love and ambition, two people must figure out the politics of the heart.
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About the Author:
Sasha Clinton discovered romance novels at the age of thirteen and has been addicted to the genre ever since. After getting a degree in Chemical Engineering and realizing that there was no way she could ever be an engineer, she decided to follow her passion and write romance novels. Sasha has lived in New Delhi, Melbourne, Manchester and Boston and continues to move frequently. But wherever she is, she’s hard at work on her next book.
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“You okay?” Alex turned to her.
“Surviving.” Kat groaned.
His gaze dangled on her, casually, but she felt a powerful pull from their midnight depths. “What’s your name again?”
She’d seen Alex so many times before, in photos, videos, even live, but never up close.
None of the approximations lived up to him.
From a distance, he was charismatic, handsome, even magnetic, but up close he was impossible to take her eyes off.
He had an interesting face, not photogenic, but very rough and macho, which was an unusual facial structure for a politician. There were a few lines on his forehead, an indication of his age, and a gritty stubble lined his jaw.
His head was smooth and clean shaven, which served to highlight his chiseled cheekbones and chin.
But his most striking feature was his unadulterated masculinity. The usual lineup of conservative suits, shirts and trousers he opted for tried hard to disguise it, but his maleness was so powerful, so potent, nothing could cage it. When he looked into her, there was no mistaking who he was. What he was.
“Kat Cullen.” She spouted a delayed answer, not letting her befuddlement show.
“I’m Alex.” He held out his hand for a handshake. Some calmness he had, to be able to retain his social graces at a time like this.
“I know who you are. I’m a staff writer at the New York Times. Politics.”
The transposition of his expression from genial to cold was quick. Reporters and politicians didn’t share the coziest of relationships.
“Oh, a reporter.” That ‘oh’ was derisive. His gaze tilted down, roaming over the gray vinyl seat, away from her.
“Don’t sound so worried, Mr. Summer. I’m off work right now.”
“It’s Alex, not Mr. Summer.” No warmth. “I’m sorry for what happened on the subway. What I did was reckless, stupid, dangerous. Frankly, I don’t know why I did it. Look, I’m not telling you how to do your job, but I would appreciate it if you’d keep what happened out of the papers. The primaries are round the corner and… I don’t usually take risks like these.”
“Of course you don’t. You’re a politician. Risk is a word that doesn’t exist in your vocabulary.” She hadn’t intended to be snarky, but she was so accustomed to being tough with politicians, she couldn’t hold herself back.
He was amused by that comment. “Politicians take a lot of risks, Ms. Cullen.”
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