Double Dealing Page 6

  “I’ll bet.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Samantha wrinkled her nose as she stared up at him.

  “I said, I’ll bet the desk clerk was very obliging once Emil got involved,” Gabriel repeated patiently as he pushed open the door to the house.

  “I heard what you said,” Samantha retorted in quick irritation. Hastily she stifled the emotion, reminding herself that this man took everything very literally. “I meant, what did you mean by the remark? I’m sure he carries some clout because of his sister, but you make it sound as though the desk clerk might have some reason to be genuinely afraid of Emil.”

  That brought a tight smile to Gabriel’s hard mouth. “Samantha,” he said very gently as he carefully closed the door, “a lot of people call Emil Fortune a lot of names, but you’re the only one I’ve ever heard call him ‘sweet.’”

  “But he was! Very.”

  “He must have liked you.” Gabriel shrugged.

  “So?” she challenged. “I liked him, too!”

  “That’s nice,” Gabriel retorted laconically. “So, as a matter of fact, do I. Sit down. I’ll get you a glass of wine.”

  “Gabriel, you’re being deliberately cryptic,” she accused, glancing around curiously at the cool, uncluttered surroundings. The interior of the house suited the inhabitant, she decided. The ocean side of the modern structure had been opened with decks and balconies and a great deal of glass to take full advantage of the spectacular view of the sea. Natural sisal matting had been used on polished board floors and the walls were sand-colored. The clean lines of the furniture were upholstered in a very restrained palette of earth tones. It rather reminded her of an elegant cruise ship. Expensive and neat with everything in its place. There wasn’t so much as the morning paper left lying on a coffee table to mar the tidiness. How depressing it was going to be working with someone who had such a penchant for precision.

  “I am never deliberately cryptic,” Gabriel informed her as he poured a glass of chilled Chardonnay wine and carried it toward her. “I’ve told you, I don’t like puzzles.”

  “Then what is it that’s so strange about my finding Mr. Fortune a pleasant man?” she taunted lightly, taking the glass and flinging herself lightly down on the nearest chair.

  Gabriel watched her sprawl with casual ease, and then he carefully sat down across from her, adjusting his wineglass so that it sat in the exact center of the coaster on the end table. His hazel eyes were hooded as he said slowly, “Emil Fortune’s father spent time in a federal prison on income tax fraud charges. The government went to court over the discrepancies in his taxes because the FBI couldn’t find enough evidence to pin the more serious charges on him. Emil’s brother manages some of the most lucrative casinos in Vegas and Atlantic City. From a discreet distance, of course. Emil’s cousin was careless. He’s spending ten years in prison on smuggling charges. Emil’s lawyer expects to have him out within two years, however. Another of Emil’s relatives runs a trucking firm that somehow made a fortune during the recent recession when most trucking firms were losing their collective shirts. Emil’s grandfather founded the-family empire during prohibition, if that gives you a due as to the solid financial status of the family.”

  Samantha stared at him. “And Emil?” she asked very carefully.

  “Emil is much more sophisticated than the rest of his family,” Gabriel drawled, sipping his wine. “He’s into arbitrage. He moves money and securities around on the international market so fast it makes your head spin.”

  “And makes a nice profit on the price discrepancies between the currencies of different countries,” Samantha concluded slowly. “I see.” She took a long sip of the wine, trying to square the image of the little rumpled man in the spa lobby with that of an international money broker who had ties to a powerful crime family. “Do you, uh, mind if I ask the obvious question?” she hazarded.

  He leaned back in his chair. “You want to know how I got involved with Emil Fortune?”

  “Well, it might be reassuring to know you’re not in danger of being hauled off to prison in the middle of our deal!” she retorted spiritedly.

  That elicited a lazy grin, that rare smile which made her think of sharks. “Emil would never allow that to happen. He likes me.”

  “Don’t be modest,” she instructed tightly. “Tell me why he likes you?”

  “Nervous?”

  “I’m involved in a business deal, not a criminal venture!”

  “Sometimes there’s a rather fine line between the two,” Gabriel noted dryly.

  “The line may be fine but I can still see it, and I intend to stay on my side of it.”

  “Very commendable.” He took another sip of wine and eyed her over the rim of the glass. “Okay, I’ll set your mind at rest. You’re not in any danger of finding my photograph on a Wanted poster at the post office. I met Emil when I got involved with his sister.”

  “His sister! Oh, I see,” Samantha began hastily, aware of a totally unexpected twinge of resentment against the unknown woman. What was the matter with her? Why should she give a damn about Gabriel Sinclair’s love life? But in spite of her dismissal of the topic, she once again had a mental image of him making love to a woman in that slow, methodical way of his. What would it be like?

  “No, I don’t think you do see,” Gabriel corrected her mildly. “You asked earlier if it was Emil’s money behind the spa. It isn’t. It’s mine. I loaned the capital to Donna two years ago. It’s been a very profitable venture for both of us.”

  Samantha gave him a sharp look. “You’re her financial backer?”

  “Ummm.” His mouth twisted wryly. “At the time I didn’t know who her brother was. By the time I found out, it was too late. I couldn’t back out of the deal and leave Donna stranded.”

  “If Donna’s family has so much money, why didn’t she borrow from them?”

  “Believe me, that’s one of the first questions I asked Donna when I found out just what I’d gotten involved with! The simple truth is Donna has spent her whole life trying to break away from the family connections. She wanted her business to be strictly legitimate, funded with strictly legitimate money. When she came to me two years ago, she deliberately neglected to tell me about Emil and the other relatives. The first I knew of it was the night Fortune showed up on my doorstep.”

  “A shock?”

  “To put it mildly. But it turned out he only wanted to make sure I didn’t have any designs on his sister.”

  “Romantic designs or financial designs?” Samantha demanded without stopping to think.

  One mahogany brow lifted coolly. “Do you always say the first thing that comes into your head?”

  “Not everyone is as deliberate and premeditated as you are, Gabriel,” she murmured, ruffled at the implied accusation of flightiness.

  “I prefer to do business with people who think and act the same way I do,” he warned very gently.

  “Then you must find your life a bit dull at times,” she snapped.

  To her astonishment he considered that. “At times,” he finally agreed. “Are you going to liven things up for me a bit?” he asked whimsically.

  “Your friend Mr. Fortune thought it might be good for you,” she grinned wickedly. “Don’t worry, though. I assured him our association was strictly business.”

  “That was exactly the type of association I had with Donna Fortune,” he said calmly.

  Samantha narrowed her eyes briefly.

  “Which was why Emil was so concerned. He had visions of some enterprising capitalist getting his financial hooks into Donna and then taking advantage of her. By the time I had assured him everything was straightforward and honest between Donna and myself, Emil and I somehow discovered we had become friends.”

  “It sounds like a dangerous friendship.”

  “Friendships, I’ve discovered, aren’t always logical.”

  “Don’t look so chagrined.” Samantha laughed. “There are a lot of things in life which aren’t
logical.”

  He looked at her. “So I’m learning.”

  Samantha chewed reflectively on her lower lip and wondered exactly what was going through her angel’s very logical, very organized brain.

  Gabriel saw the speculation in her gaze and thought he knew precisely what was going on in the lively brain of the sweet witch he had invited to dinner. She found him dull, pedantic, slow, and God knew what else. But she was here, he told himself. She was in his house, drinking his wine, and about to eat the food he had prepared. He was amazed at how territorial and possessive his thoughts were. Even a little predatory.

  “It’s time to start dinner,” he announced, getting to his feet with a decisive movement, feeling a need for some physical release from the tension he’d been under. When seven o’clock had arrived with no sign of Samantha, he’d experienced the most appalling surge of anger. It was an anger which had died quickly after her belated arrival, but some of the tension it had caused persisted. “You can stay here and finish another glass of wine if you like.”

  “No, I’d much rather watch you at work. Perhaps I’ll learn something,” Samantha said lightly, rising quickly to follow him into the kitchen.

  Indeed, it was fascinating, she decided shortly. Everything went together with a precision and patient skill that Samantha could only admire. She watched as he set a pan of sliced apples in butter to sauté while he put mushrooms into another shallow skillet. When the mushrooms were cooked, he removed them and added more butter to the pan. In this, Gabriel browned several small veal scallops to perfection.

  Transferring the scallops to a platter, he added calvados to the skillet, igniting it and shaking the pan until the flames went out. Then he poured in cream and a bit of glace de viande and reduced the rich sauce until it was slightly thickened. The result was served over the veal together with the sautéed apples and a salad composed of asparagus, potatoes, and beets.

  “My God, this is good.” Samantha sighed as she savored each bite. “When I think of all those poor people suffering through lettuce and sprouts tonight back at the spa… “ She broke off, shaking her head with pity. “Do you always feed your business partners this well?”

  Gabriel lifted his eyes from the remainder of the veal on his plate, riveting her attention with the sudden, utter seriousness of his expression. “I haven’t agreed to any business arrangements yet, Samantha. But I did want tonight to be a little special.”

  “You’re trying to impress me?” she dared lightly. She refused to be put off by the fact that he wouldn’t make a commitment regarding their deal.

  “I’m trying to do a little more than impress you. I’m trying to seduce you,” he drawled evenly, his eyes never leaving her face.

  Samantha dropped her fork halfway to her mouth. It clattered rudely to the white octagonal plate, and she mumbled a hasty apology as she recovered it. Play this light, Samantha. Give him an out and maybe he’ll retreat of his own accord. He’s not really the pushy type.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly. Goodness, I hope I didn’t spatter anything on this lovely place mat!” She searched the woven fiber mat anxiously for signs of veal sauce. What was she going to do if he didn’t back down? Honesty in a man was far more unnerving and far more difficult to handle than the subtle maneuver!

  “You heard me, Samantha,” Gabriel said quietly. “Why the panic? Ssurely I’m not the first to pose the question.”

  She took a grip on her resolve. “Of course not. Somehow I just wasn’t expecting it from you.”

  He smiled bleakly. “Still trying to dress me in a halo and wings?”

  “Mr. Sinclair, I came here tonight because I hoped we could do business together. I never mix business with my personal life.” Not anymore, she silently noted to herself. “And certainly not to the extent you’re suggesting. Is that very clear?” No one knew better than she just how disastrous a combination it could be.

  “I’ve been thinking about you ever since I saw you lying on that massage table this afternoon. I would like to take you to bed, Samantha,” he said with devastating simplicity.

  Samantha swallowed, her fingers drumming on the glass tabletop as she mentally ran through a list of ways to handle this new development. He wasn’t going to simply back off. Once started on a course of action, it would probably take a nuclear explosion to deflect Gabriel Sinclair from his chosen path. She had never before experienced such blunt directness and such a deliberate way of doing things in a man, and it temporarily put her off stride. Perhaps the best way to handle it was to be equally blunt.

  “Are you saying that our partnership is contingent on my sleeping with you?” Utter disdain permeated her words. “If that’s the case, Gabriel, I might as well say good night and be on my way. I don’t make deals like that.” She wasn’t bluffing and it showed. But she couldn’t read the thoughts moving behind the guarded hazel gaze as Gabriel continued to search her own fiercely controlled features. Then he lowered his eyes to his wineglass and reached for it.

  “Whether or not you’ll come to bed with me won’t affect my decision on whether or not I’ll do business with you, Samantha.”

  Her eyes widened in sudden perception. “You’re not planning on doing business with me at all, are you?” she whispered tightly.

  He hesitated and then shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet.

  “Terrific!” she muttered scathingly. “Am I wasting an entire evening then? Were you even going to ask to see the information I’ve collected? Or were you just going to rush me into bed and then send me on my way in the morning without any answer at all?”

  Gabriel eyed her thoughtfully for a moment. “Would you like a little career advice, Samantha?”

  “Not particularly!”

  “Don’t worry, its free. The advice is to watch that temper of yours. Watch all your moods, in fact. You’re very volatile, you know. You ought to keep yourself under control when you’re trying to conduct business. Don’t let your opponent see how anxious or angry or reckless you really are. You s-s-should strive for a little more business poise, Samantha.”

  She raised beseeching eyes toward the ceiling. “For heaven’s sake! I didn’t come here for a lecture on professional conduct! I’ve put a simple, straightforward, potentially lucrative proposition in front of you. Just tell me whether or not you’re seriously interested.”

  “And if I’m not?”

  “William Oakes,” she said succinctly.

  “Oakes?” Gabriel frowned. “From New York?”

  “You know him?” she inquired pleasantly enough. “You ought to. He’s in your line of work. He was the other man on my list of potential backers.”

  “Why didn’t you select him as your first choice? How did I get so lucky?”

  She lifted one shoulder dismissingly. “You were on the West Coast, which made you convenient and less likely to be known to Buchanan’s people. You have a low profile in the venture capital world, which means you can make a move without telegraphing it to The Wall Street Journal or Barron’s. You operate alone, which means I didn’t have to convince an entire committee of the validity of my plan. And you’d had that previous encounter with the Buchanan Group which I thought might predispose you to want to even the score.”

  “An excellent line of reasoning. I see you can think logically when you wish.” He smiled gently.

  “I can work up an equally sound line of reasoning to present to Mr. Oakes, I’m sure,” she threatened carefully.

  “Stay away from William Oakes, Samantha.” Gabriel’s voice turned suddenly hard.

  “Why?” she challenged.

  “Because he’ll chew you up into little pieces and spit out what’s left. That’s why. You’ll find yourself coming out of the deal with nothing. He’ll take everything.”

  “Is this professional envy I’m hearing?” she mocked, pleased at having regained some advantage. She couldn’t be sure why he didn’t like Oakes, but there must be a way of working the information to he
r advantage.

  “It’s not professional envy, it’s a professional evaluation of a colleague,” Gabriel growled. “I mean it, Samantha, stay clear of him.”

  “I need a backer for my plan. If you’re not willing to go into a partnership with me, then I shall have to look elsewhere, won’t I?”

  “Samantha, Samantha!” He shook his head, smiling faintly. “You’re so hopelessly transparent! You’re not going to force my hand by threatening to run off to William Oakes, so don’t bother trying that tactic. I’m giving you sound advice about the man. Accept it for what it is.”

  “Just tell me the truth, Gabriel,” she demanded. “Are you even considering my proposition? Or was the invitation this evening strictly a play to get me into bed?”

  He faced her levelly. “I haven’t ruled out the possibility of doing business with you,” he said honestly.

  “Word of honor?” she pressed.

  “Word of an angel,” he mocked lightly.

  She sat back, somewhat appeased, and picked up her fork. “Then perhaps we could go over the information I’ve collected after dinner.”

  “Samantha?”

  “Hmmm?” The veal really was quite fabulous.

  “If we do wind up in business together,” Gabriel began slowly, “there’s something we s-s-should have very clear between us.”

  “Yes?” She waited expectantly.

  “You have my word that I will be quite frank with you on all matters. I would want your word in return.”

  Visions of what this man might do if he knew her true motivation on the Buchanan deal blazed in her mind. It was very clear that Gabriel Sinclair did not approve of emotionalism in business. If he realized just how steep an emotional investment she had in this deal, it would kill any possibility of gaining his cooperation.

  “You have my word that I will be quite straightforward with you on all business matters,” she stated carefully. And she would, she promised herself. She just wouldn’t burden him with a lot of past history about herself and Drew Buchanan.