Forbidden Read Free

her one of his shy smiles. “Fill out a casualty report and I’ll see what I can do.” Liz Townsend had impressed him
     from the day Molly had introduced them. “Elegant” was the word for Liz. Monied elegance. Despite the fact that she was wearing
     tailored brown slacks and an oversize beige silk blouse, she stood out from the others. Fitz was sure there was a terrific
     body in there somewhere, but Liz never flaunted her looks. Her auburn hair came just to her shoulders in a simple classic
     cut, and she wore little makeup. She reminded him of someone he’d known back in law school, the first woman who’d made his
     hands sweat with the urge to touch her. But he hadn’t; someone else had.
    Reluctantly Fitz dragged his eyes from Liz and checked his watch. Five to six. Where had the time gone? There simply weren’t
     enough hours in the day. Taking the manila envelopewith him, he walked over to where Liz was cleaning off her desk. “I wonder if you could do something for me. These letters
have
to go out tonight. Adam’s apartment’s about twenty minutes from here. Would you mind stopping by and getting his signature
     on them, then dropping them in the mailbox?”
    In bending to retrieve her purse from the bottom drawer, Liz bought a little time. Her mother was giving a dinner party tonight,
     cocktails starting in an hour, at the Townsend home in La Jolla, and Katherine did
not
like late arrivals. Liz would scarcely have time to drive home, shower, and change as it was. Still, she’d agreed to help
     out here, and once committed she never gave anything less than her all. Besides, Fitz was such a nice guy that she hated refusing
     any of his requests.
    Fitz shoved his glasses back up his nose, wishing he hadn’t asked. Liz had put in a long day as it was; he didn’t want to
     push her into quitting. Nor could they afford to lose the clout and support of her father’s law firm. Joseph Townsend & Associates
     carried a lot of weight in California. “Listen, it’s all right if you’ve got plans.”
    “I’ll be happy to go for you,” Diane offered as she picked up her leather shoulder bag and strolled over. Pointedly she glanced
     up at the campaign poster of Adam McKenzie tacked onto the far wall. The man had the look of a born winner, with that strong
     chin and those sincere blue eyes staring straight into the camera, challenging the world to trust him. She could do worse
     than to hitch her wagon to that rising star, Diane told herself. Perhaps a few minutes alone with the candidate could persuade
     him to ask her to dinner and… and whatever.
    “That’s all right,” Liz said as she stood. “I have the time.” In the ten days she’d worked here she hadn’t yet met Adam McKenzie.
     Perhaps it was time she did. She’d been greatly impressed with his record, and Molly had detailed his many virtues in trying
     to persuade Liz to join his campaign: championof the underdog; charismatic charmer; winner of cases against nearly impossible odds. Opposing attorneys, law clerks, and
     volunteers alike seemed in awe of him. Clearly the man all but walked on water. She needed to see for herself. “Where does
     he live?”
    “Are you sure you can squeeze it in, sugar?” Diane sauntered toward the door, hoping she might run the errand instead.
    Fitz handed the envelope to Liz. “I’ve written Adam’s address here. You’re familiar with the Bankers Hill area just east of
     the airport, right?”
    She glanced at the street name, recognizing it immediately. “Sure. That building’s not far from my new apartment.” She had
     rented her own place just two weeks ago, right after graduation from Stanford. Her mother had been less than pleased, and
     her father had asked why she’d felt it necessary to waste her money when their La Jolla home had six bedrooms and as many
     baths. Neither of her parents, it seemed, understood her need for independence.
    Liz tucked the envelope under her arm. “Consider it