The Winner Takes It All (A Something New Novel)

Praise for Jennifer Dawson’s
Take a Chance on Me

“Witty repartee, memorable secondary characters, and powerful attraction skillfully handled will have readers eager for the next in the series.”—
Publishers Weekly

“If this well-written debut novel by Dawson is any indication, she is an author to watch out for.”—
RT Book Review
s, 4 stars

“Jennifer Dawson launches a series with this marvelous tale. The characters own the pages with their vivid personalities, and the scorching love scenes border on erotica in their fiery detail. The small-town charm of the setting will also appeal to many readers.”—
Affaire de Coeur
, 5 stars

“Jennifer Dawson is a wonderful author who knows how to pen a well-developed plot with depth . . . characters are mesmerizing, the dialogue is rich, the setting is inviting, and the sex is off-the-chain, which is a testament to her writing skills.”—
BlackRaven’s Reviews
, 5 stars and a Recommended Read

“I thoroughly enjoyed this book. It was refreshing and funny with characters I adored and some hot alpha males I wanted to know better . . . if you like Jill Shalvis, you’ll truly enjoy
Take a Chance on Me
.”—
Night Owl Reviews
, 4.5 stars

“
Take a Chance on Me
by Jennifer Dawson is a richly illustrated, character-driven novel that is definitely worth the risk.”—
The Romance Reviews
, 4 stars

“The book is full of steamy romance and characters that you will remember long after.”—
Examiner.com
, 5-star review

Books by Jennifer Dawson

The Winner Takes It All

Take a Chance on Me

Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

The Winner Takes It All

JENNIFER DAWSON

ZEBRA BOOKS

KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

Table of Contents

Praise for Jennifer Dawson’s
Take a Chance on Me
Also by
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Teaser chapter
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Copyright Page

To Stacy,
who knows all my secrets
and
loves me anyway.

Chapter One

“We got the lead story.” Nathaniel Riley’s voice sounded over the car speaker.

The news didn’t surprise Cecilia. Reporters don’t shove a scoop like this to the back page, especially since it gave them another way to trot out the “senator recovering from a blackmail scandal” angle.

Cecilia stabbed the speaker’s volume button until it lowered to a reasonable level. “Then everything is going according to plan.”

“I trust you’re happy.” Her father’s purring tone made it clear that he, at least, was one satisfied cat.

She clenched the leather steering wheel.

Happy
. Now there’s a word. When was the last time she’d been happy?

Stop. This was
not
the time to get philosophical. If she wanted a chance in hell at winning the congressional seat come election time, this was what needed to be done.

It was the smart move.

And she needed to win.

She’d get over the distaste curling into a knot in her stomach. She always did.

A green highway sign came into focus. Revival. Fifteen Miles. Where everything was sunshine, laughter, and genuine happiness.

Her skull throbbed.

“Cecilia?” Her father’s voice fractured her thoughts. “What did you think of the article?”

She didn’t read it. This morning, she’d thrown the unopened paper in the trash and deleted the Google alert links sitting in her e-mail. It was a fluff piece, carefully crafted by the senator’s finest. The first of many that would lead to a final press conference where she’d announce her bid for congress. It was all part of a perfectly planned public relations strategy, designed by her.

A fine sheen of sweat spread over her back. She punched down the air-conditioner button in her understated Mercedes sedan and let the cool air wash over her face.

“Paul did an excellent job.” After years avoiding the truth, the evasion was smooth as silk.

“Since you were unavailable, Miles and I had final approval,” Nathaniel Riley said in his polished politician’s voice.

“Of course.” While her tone rang with a practiced strength, her stomach rolled. What was wrong with her? She needed to get it together. This was the price her dream demanded. She wasn’t losing anything really important. Nothing that mattered.

Life in politics was all she’d ever wanted. When other little girls were pretending to be princesses in faraway lands, she played at being president in the Oval Office. It was the only dream she’d ever known.

She’d been content putting her career aside for her father’s aspirations, but that ended when his scandal broke. She’d sat at her kitchen table, reading that dreadful headline, and saw her whole world crumbling under her feet.

The young woman who’d attempted to blackmail the senator had eventually been caught and her schemes exposed, but not without damage. Cecilia had managed the fallout to perfection, minimizing the whole sordid affair, publicizing how he’d been a victim of greed. It worked, the senator was well on the road to political recovery, but she couldn’t shake the worry.

This wasn’t the first mess she’d helped him escape. At some point his bad decisions would have to come back and bite him. And where would that leave her?

It had been a slap in the face. A wake-up call delivered by a five-alarm fire truck.

“I’m proud of you, Cecilia,” Nathaniel said, and she could practically see him sitting there in his office in Washington, scotch in hand, smug in his oversized leather chair.

Six months ago she would have lapped up his approval like a grateful puppy, but now she recognized the lie. He wasn’t proud of her. This latest plan helped
him
. How, she wasn’t sure and didn’t care, but it had nothing to do with her.

It never did.

The truth only made her more determined.

A speed limit sign whipped past and she checked her speedometer to see the needle creeping past eighty-five. Easing her foot off the pedal, she started to say thank you for his sparse compliment but instead blurted, “Don’t you have any reservations?”

“We talked about this,” he said in a patient tone that grated on her last nerve. “This is your best shot.”

Clammy sweat broke out on her forehead, forcing her to turn the air down to arctic levels. Wasn’t thirty-three too young for a hot flash? She swallowed the taste of the bile clinging to the walls of her throat. “It doesn’t bother you?”

“Why would it?”

Because I’m your daughter?
The truth pained her, causing her voice to crack. That he hadn’t even noticed she was upset made the cut that much deeper.

She shook her head. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except getting out from under his thumb. She squared her shoulders. “Never mind. Is there anything else?”

A momentary silence fell over the car, filled with nothing but dead air. She prayed for a dropped connection (one would expect it in farmland Illinois), but the squeak of Nathaniel’s desk chair quelled her hope.

“Are you almost there?”

Her jaw tightened and her ever-present headache beat at her temples. “I’m about fifteen minutes outside town.”

“And your mother?” The question was clipped.

Part of Cecilia still wanted to believe that under all his bluster and power trips he genuinely cared for his wife of forty years, but she had no more delusions. “She’s already there.”

The green mile marker sign came into view. Revival. Twelve Miles.

She hadn’t been to the small town since her grandma’s funeral.

A sudden, unexpected tightness welled in Cecilia’s throat and she swallowed hard.

“I see,” he said and another silence descended.

She dreaded spending the next two weeks in a house filled with strangers, watching her brother fawn all over his bride-to-be. Not that she begrudged Mitch his happiness, she didn’t, but witnessing it caused a strange yearning she didn’t want to contemplate.

She gripped the steering wheel, tight enough her knuckles turned white. “I still think a couple of days before the wedding would have been plenty.”

“Cecilia,” Nathaniel said, in his patient tone. “Voters love a wedding and we need the family solidarity. This will help your image.”

The logic couldn’t be refuted, but she tried anyway. “And two or three days doesn’t accomplish that?”

“Under normal circumstances, yes, but with Shane Donovan already at his sister’s side and that football player on his way, it doesn’t look good if we’re not there.”