Marshall Vasser would have normally agreed, but when that woman was Maureen Gossinger, he considered it a privilege.She was a particularly appealing woman, not just for who she was but also for whom she was married to. Pursuing the wife of the most powerful man in New York was turning out to be the ultimate high.Marshall smiled, lightheaded from the combination of good wine and better sex as his town car carried him home. At forty years old, he considered himself to be in his prime. He knew what he wanted, and knew even better how to get it. His position in high society and the weight behind his family name provided plenty of opportunities.Maureen was thirty-two and blonde, trim and presentable on the outside and a raging tigress inside. Marshall wondered if she even enjoyed sex with her husband, the governor. For as often as she beckoned Marshall to her bed, she must not.He couldn’t care less, however. Her husband was of no consequence to him. All he cared about was the thrill of knowing he gave her what her husband couldn’t give.He justified his behavior because he himself was unmarried.
