Deception Point Read Online Free PDF Page B

world.
    Everything about this room said power, from the faint aroma of fine pipe tobacco to the ubiquitous presidential seal. The eagle clasping the arrows and olive branches was embroidered on throw pillows, carved into the ice bucket, and even printed on the cork coasters on the bar. Rachel picked up a coaster and examined it.
    “Stealing souvenirs already?” a deep voice asked behind her.
    Startled, Rachel wheeled, dropping the coaster on the floor. She knelt awkwardly to retrieve it. As she grasped the coaster, she turned to see the President of the United States gazing down at her with an amused grin.
    “I’m not royalty, Ms. Sexton. There’s really no need to kneel.”

7
    S enator Sedgewick Sexton savored the privacy of his Lincoln stretch limousine as it snaked through Washington’s morning traffic toward his office. Across from him, Gabrielle Ashe, his twenty-four-year-old personal assistant, read him his daily schedule. Sexton was barely listening.
    I love Washington, he thought, admiring the assistant’s perfect shape beneath her cashmere sweater. Power is the greatest aphrodisiac of all . . . and it brings women like this to D.C. in droves.
    Gabrielle was a New York Ivy Leaguer with dreams of being a senator herself one day. She’ll make it too, Sexton thought. She was incredible-looking and sharp as a whip. Above all, she understood the rules of the game.
    Gabrielle Ashe was black, but her tawny coloring was more of a deep cinnamon or mahogany, the kind of comfortable in-between that Sexton knew bleeding heart “whites” could endorse without feeling like they were giving away the farm. Sexton described Gabrielle to his cronies as Halle Berry’s looks with Hillary Clinton’s brains and ambition, although sometimes he thought even that was an understatement.
    Gabrielle had been a tremendous asset to his campaign since he’d promoted her to his personal campaign assistant three months ago. And to top it all off, she was working forfree. Her compensation for a sixteen-hour workday was learning the ropes in the trenches with a seasoned politician.
    Of course, Sexton gloated, I’ve persuaded her to do a bit more than just work. After promoting Gabrielle, Sexton had invited her to a late night “orientation session” in his private office. As expected, his young assistant arrived starstruck and eager to please. With a slow-moving patience mastered over decades, Sexton worked his magic . . . building up Gabrielle’s trust, carefully stripping away her inhibitions, exhibiting tantalizing control, and finally seducing her right there in his office.
    Sexton had little doubt the encounter had been one of the most sexually gratifying experiences of the young woman’s life, and yet, in the light of the day, Gabrielle clearly regretted the indiscretion. Embarrassed, she offered to resign. Sexton refused. Gabrielle stayed on, but she made her intentions very clear. The relationship had been strictly business ever since.
    Gabrielle’s pouty lips were still moving. “. . . don’t want you to be lackadaisical going into this CNN debate this afternoon. We still don’t know who the White House is sending as opposition. You’ll want to peruse these notes I typed.” She handed him a folder.
    Sexton took the folder, savoring the scent of her perfume mixed with the plush leather seats.
    “You aren’t listening,” she said.
    “Certainly am.” He grinned. “Forget about this CNN debate. Worst case scenario, the White House snubs me by sending some low-level campaign intern. Best case scenario, they send a bigwig, and I eat him for lunch.”
    Gabrielle frowned. “Fine. I’ve included a list of the most probable hostile topics in your notes.”
    “The usual suspects no doubt.”
    “With one new entry. I think you might face some hostile backlash from the gay community for your comments last night on Larry King.”
    Sexton shrugged, barely listening. “Right. The same-sex marriage