LITMIR.BIZ

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remembered how she took hers. He reached for the folder on the end of the island and handed her a sheet of paper. “Read this.”

      Curious enough to obey, she put her mug down on the island. She scanned the page, a summary of the latest opinion poll about the forthcoming gubernatorial primary. “Ouch.”

      “Exactly,” he said. “The public trust me about as much as they’d trust an arsonist with a match.”

      She gripped the paper more tightly. “You must have known that would be a problem.”

      “Know why they don’t trust me?” His tone was conversational, but she picked up the old resentment beneath the surface.

      Sabrina swallowed, though she hadn’t drunk any more coffee. “Because your father broke the law.”

      His mouth tightened. “If you could do it over again,” he said, “would you?”

      They both knew what “it” was. The back of her neck prickled; she dropped the damning opinion-poll results. “Jake, your father was a hero to me, the best governor a man could be. I thought he was so caring, so principled.” Needlessly, she stirred her coffee. “No one could have been more upset to discover he’d taken a bribe—apart from his family,” she added quickly. “But no matter how much I admired him, I couldn’t let him get away with it.”

      “I mean,” Jake said deliberately, “would you do it the same way?”

      He had her there. Because with the benefit of hindsight—and a whole lot more maturity—she wouldn’t have been so rash in her denunciation of Governor Ted Warrington. Wouldn’t have made those distraught calls summoning the media to a midnight press conference, thus guaranteeing the story would trounce every other headline off the front pages. She wouldn’t have forced Jake and his family to wake up to a posse of reporters on their doorstep, so that his dad appeared before the nation aging and vulnerable in his pajamas.

      She didn’t want to think about that night, or about what happened afterward—the public frenzy that had condemned Ted before he gave his side of the story. And the flaming, bitter end of her relationship with Jake.

      “The outcome would have been the same,” she said uneasily, not meeting his eyes. She caught her reflection in the oven door, saw how she’d hunched down in self-defense. She straightened on her stool. “Your father would still have had to quit.”

      “People might at least have given him credit for having selfless motives. If he’d been allowed to retain some dignity…” He let out a hiss. “My parents’ marriage might have survived.”

      She drew in a pained breath. If he dared suggest that had his parents not divorced, his mom would never have dated the man who’d taken her sailing on a day when no right-thinking person would have gone out, and drowned them both…

      Sabrina shuddered—and saw from Jake’s narrowed eyes that she was taking exactly the path he wanted her to. Fortunately, he brought out her fighting instincts like nobody else. “Whatever help you want from me,” she said coolly, “you obviously think you need to guilt-trip me first. Let’s consider that done, and you can tell me why I’m here.”

      He blinked. He must have expected her to cave at the first hint of conflict. She could practically see him rearranging his tactics.

      “I need your help to establish public confidence in me,” he said finally, matching her bluntness.

      “How could I—” That’s when realization dawned. “Ah. You mean, like—” she waggled her fingers, quote marks for an imaginary headline “—Fat-Thighed Beauty Queen Says, Vote Warrington?”

      “I mean—” he made quote marks of his own “—Whistle-blower Says Son Is Not Like Father.”

      She had to admit, it had a certain poetic beauty. If the woman who’d blown the whistle on crooked Governor Ted Warrington endorsed Ted’s son for office, voters would have to believe Jake was on the level. But the thought of getting involved with him again, even politically…

      “I don’t understand why you’re even running for office,” she hedged. “You knew this would be a problem.”

      “Susan did some polling before I decided to run. The results suggested that my grandfather’s and great-uncle’s years of public service to the state were enough to outweigh Dad’s mistakes.” Susan Warrington, Jake’s aunt and Tyler’s mom, was Jake’s campaign manager, as she’d been his father’s before him. Jake came from a long line of Georgia governors. “None of the numbers we’ve polled since then support that conclusion,” he finished.

      Sabrina tapped the page in front of her. “That tells me why you thought you could win. You still haven’t said why you want to be governor.” Jake had always thought bigger than Georgia; he’d had his heart set on national politics, starting with Congress, back when he and Sabrina were dating.

      The bribe scandal had ended that ambition. Jake had quit politics to work with Max at Warrington Construction.

      “My father cheated this state, and I want to put that right,” he said. “I want to move on. I’m sick of being ‘crooked Ted Warrington’s son.’”

      Sabrina swallowed and ducked her head. The poll data caught her eye. “This isn’t all bad news. People think you’re intelligent, likable and—and you have a nice smile.” According to the demographics data at the bottom of the page, seventy percent of the respondents were women. Sabrina knew they meant his smile—the one that adorned campaign posters around town, the one she never saw—was sexy. “Maybe Susan’s original numbers were right, and people will look past what your dad did.”

      “They won’t,” he said flatly.

      “My support would be more of a handicap than a help,” she assured him. “You saw those photographers at the airport. I’m a bad joke.”

      He barked a laugh. “I guess you haven’t seen the local papers. The media might be poking fun at you, but there’s been a swell of public sympathy like you wouldn’t believe. The newspapers are full of letters saying what a wonderful Miss Georgia you are. And you’re Saint Sabrina of Talkback Radio.” The sweep of his hand encompassed the Georgia airwaves.

      “You’re exaggerating,” she said, a part of her hoping he wasn’t. That the entire state didn’t hold her in contempt.

      “Sabrina.” Jake gripped the edge of the island. “Would you trust me as governor?”

      She would never trust him with her heart again, and would recommend no other woman should, either, but she did trust him as a politician. Unlike his father’s, Jake’s integrity was unshakable.

      “Yes,” she said.

      “Then we don’t have a problem.” His fingers relaxed. “Do we?”

      She almost agreed. Then she realized what Jake was doing. In short order, he’d had her feeling grateful for his intervention at the airport, sorry for him over his poll results, guilty about the role she’d played in his family’s breakup…He was manipulating her emotions, just as he had five years ago. Back then, he’d left her shattered. Thankfully, he’d been too mad to see how he’d hurt her.

      “Your getting involved in the governor race will take everyone’s minds off your legs,” he coaxed, as if offering her an irresistible enticement.

      “Politics being even weightier?” she said sharply.

      He grinned, almost amicably, and she guessed he thought her agreement was in the bag.

      “I need you to tell the world you have complete trust in me,” he said. “And to attend some of my campaign events between now and the primary vote in June. We could start Monday—I’m opening an art exhibition at Wellesley High School. Your dad will probably be there, his firm is one of the sponsors. You could come along. What do you say?”

      Sabrina studied her fingernails to avoid the compelling pressure of

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