Double Dealing Page 8

  Samantha did not find out until much later of the way her father had walked into Buchanan’s office and bluntly told the younger man that his “bastard daughter would inherit nothing!”

  That’s all it had taken. Samantha had shortly thereafter found her romantic illusions in ashes as Drew quickly eased her out of his life.

  As the truth emerged, the anger set in. At first the heated emotion was directed at her parents, but that hadn’t lasted long. She was too logical, too intelligent not to realize that all they had done was show her the truth about Drew Buchanan. If he had loved her, her illegitimate status and the fact that Thorndyke promised to leave her nothing wouldn’t have mattered.

  The anger became self-directed. It had provided the incredible energy required to start over again in her chosen location in the Northwest three years ago, and eventually the white heat of it had died.

  But the need to revenge herself on Drew Buchanan had never burned itself out completely. Samantha’s desire to rectify the biggest mistake of her life had remained constant. Even now it made her wince to recall how she had been willing to give up everything for the man she loved. She wanted Buchanan to know that the naïve, emotional woman he had manipulated so easily three years ago had teeth now. She had emerged from the experience older and wiser, and she was going to make Drew pay in the only way he understood. With a huge chunk of money and an even larger slice of masculine ego.

  After that, Samantha knew, she would be free. The slate would somehow be wiped clean, and she need no longer see the occasional memory of disappointment in her mother’s eyes. She was only sorry Victor Thorndyke had not lived to see his daughter’s revenge. He would have appreciated the beauty and simplicity of the plan. He had always appreciated hef inborn ability for business. It was the talent she had inherited from him.

  Slowly Samantha turned away from the window and got ready for bed.

  An hour later she was still awake, staring at the darkness beyond the window and wondering why sleep wasn’t descending as abruptly as it should have done, given the extent of her exhaustion earlier in the day. How much longer was she going to lie here going over and over the events of the day?

  Groaning in mild self-disgust, she climbed out of bed and went to the window again, her apricot-colored nightgown wafting lightly around her legs as the breeze from the open slider caught at it. She could have done with a bit more of her mother’s courage, she decided. Just now she was feeling tense and uncertain about the snag which had developed in her carefully outlined plans.

  What was she going to do if she couldn’t get Gabriel Sinclair’s cooperation? Start over again with William Oakes? Something in her mind shied away from abandoning the project with Gabriel. It was becoming very important to make it work.

  Once again she wondered at how he might react if he were to learn the real reason behind her business proposition. He was already not overly enthused about backing her. Her cause would be hopeless if he discovered the truth.

  It wasn’t as if the deal she’d put together couldn’t stand on its own merits! She was going to use her father’s business methods to prove herself her mother’s daughter. What fine irony. Why couldn’t Gabriel see how much money there was to be made?

  And while he was making money, she would be wiping out the recollection of what a fool she had been three years ago. Her mother had raised a daughter capable of total independence, and except for the affair with Drew Buchanan when she had sacrificed her pride for a meaningless passion falsely labeled love, Samantha had tried hard to live by her mother’s code. The opportunity to seal the still-open wound in her pride, however, must not be allowed to slip by simply because she couldn’t convince one very stubborn venture capitalist to go along with the plan.

  Angrily Samantha pushed the sliding glass door open wide and stepped out onto the balcony. Below her the sandy beach met the rhythmically pulsing waves. A yellow glow from the outside lights around the house illuminated the scene faintly, revealing a touch of glittering phosphorescence in the cream-topped breakers. The beach stretched empty for miles. The few other homes secluded along the curving miles of coastline were not even visible from where Samantha stood.

  The breeze off the ocean chilled her. She couldn’t stand out on this balcony much longer unless she went back inside and found a jacket. Samantha straightened from the railing and stepped back through the sliding glass door.

  Her eyes fell on the vague outline of her folded jeans lying in the open suitcase as she walked back toward the bed. On a sudden impulse she reached down and picked them up. Then, without giving herself a chance to think, she whipped the apricot nightdress off over her head. She stepped into the jeans without bothering to search for a pair of panties and felt through her clothes for the cotton shirt she knew was buried somewhere in the case. A few minutes later Samantha let herself out into the beige-carpeted hall.

  Shoving her arms into the sleeves of a black leather jacket, she made her way softly through the shadowy living room toward the door which would let her out onto the beach. She needed to walk off her restlessness if she hoped to get any sleep tonight at all.

  From his bedroom window Gabriel watched her leave. He had heard her go out onto her own balcony and had known the exact moment she had opened her door and walked down the hall. She had been moving with a purposefulness which had alarmed him.

  He had climbed out of bed and had his hand on the doorknob before he realized she wasn’t heading for her car. She was going out onto the beach, not running away from him.

  He had yanked his large, square hand off the doorknob as if it had grown hot beneath his palm, but in truth what had startled him was his rush to the door in the first place. He hadn’t stopped to think; he had simply charged out of bed, uncaring of his own nakedness and prepared to stop his witch if she were indeed intent on taking flight in the middle of the night.

  The unexpected rashness of his own actions was unnerving. He crossed the bedroom in three long strides and was mildly disgusted to find his hand was shaking slightly as he braced it against the metal frame of the sliding glass door. Even more unsettling was the surge in his loins as he watched her walk over the sand toward the water’s edge. What was he letting the woman do to him, for God’s sake?

  It was just that he had been too long without a female, Gabriel decided, and knew in the same instant that he was lying to himself. It had been a long time, but that was because it hadn’t been very good the last time. He had been in no rush recently to satisfy the basic needs of his nature; not when physical satisfaction had to be purchased at the price of feeling empty and emotionally shortchanged afterward.

  A man of his quiet, plodding characteristics counted the cost of everything, Gabriel thought grimly. And the cost of taking to bed a woman for whom he felt only superficial desire was painfully steep. It made him feel compromised in a way he couldn’t quite explain. He consoled’ himself with the knowledge that at least the short, fleeting relationships were honest, if unsatisfying and almost boring. But he always felt as though he had paid too much and received too little in exchange.

  Watching the woman on the darkened beach, however, Gabriel realized what was so different about the attraction he felt toward Samantha. This time he didn’t want to think about the cost. He wanted her. Period. No, not quite period.

  He wanted something more. He wanted her to surrender without counting the cost, either.

  He had fretted over his uncharacteristic behavior all afternoon, analyzing it, dissecting it, trying to find a rational explanation for it. When seven o’clock had come and gone and Samantha had not yet arrived, a strange kind of panic had invaded his bloodstream only to be followed by an unreasonable anger: anger at himself for having tried to set the trap and at the woman for having evaded it. Then he’d heard the crunch of gravel under her car’s wheels and had immediately gotten himself back under control.

  Setting snares for women apparently wasn’t his forte, however. Look at how he’d nearly ruined every
thing by trying to put things out in the open over dinner. He’d blurted out the truth about his intentions, and she hadn’t hesitated to put him firmly in his place.

  Mentally he chastised himself for his own stupidity. How had he expected her to react, for God’s sake? He was damn lucky she hadn’t walked out then and there. He must have succeeded in allaying her immediate concerns, though, because she had agreed willingly to spend the night in his spare bedroom.

  His eyes narrowed as he realized she didn’t appear to be particularly wary of him in the physical sense.

  That thought brought conflicting emotions. Look at her out there walking along on the beach lost in her thoughts—as if no one of this world had the slightest claim on her. Didn’t she sense he was standing here, imagining various ways of pursuing her, dragging her down into the sand and claiming her completely? She ought to be running as fast as she could, not ambling along the waving line of surf.

  “Damn!”

  What was the matter with him? He didn’t want her to run. He wanted to keep her under his roof and within reach as long as possible. “Face it, Sinclair,” he growled under his breath. “She’s in no danger from you. You’ve never forced yourself on a woman in your life, and you’re hardly likely to start the practice now.” But he found himself wanting her to know that he hungered for her. He wanted her to be aware of him on the most fundamental level. The strangely possessive, uncomfortably predatory sensations he’d experienced earlier in the evening were growing stronger.

  At least she hadn’t laughed or teased him earlier this evening when he’d confessed his true intentions. She hadn’t played games with him; she’d simply told him to back off in no uncertain terms. Did that mean that she at least took seriously the possibility of his desire?

  He watched her adjust the collar of her leather jacket in the pale light of the outside lamp. It was strange how the blatantly masculine lines of her outfit only emphasized her femininity. She wasn’t a beautiful woman, but she was a strong, intensely feminine one.

  He wanted to curve his hand around the curve of her bottom, find the outline of a nipple under her shirt, and prod it until it was hard with desire. He wanted to jerk her off her feet and stretch her out beneath him, taking her totally.

  The palms of his hands were damp. He dried them awkwardly on the billowing curtain. What was she doing out there alone on the beach at night? This was a relatively safe part of the coast, but she was his responsibility. And he always took care of his responsibilities.

  Who was he kidding? Gabriel stopped trying to rationalize his own actions as he yanked on a pair of jeans and reached for a dark blue pullover sweater. He wanted to be down there on the beach with her.

  Samantha didn’t hear him as he came toward her softly through the sand. She could hear nothing above the muted roar of the surf, yet something urged her to glance back toward the house, and when she did she saw Gabriel’s dark figure advancing toward her with a purposeful stride that was becoming familiar. Did the man ever do anything without a purpose? she wondered fleetingly. He must have seen her leave the house and been worried about her out here alone. Politely she stopped and waited for him to catch up with her.

  “You couldn’t sleep?” he asked distantly as he came to a halt in front of her. The wind feathered the dark mahogany of his hair. His face was an unreadable mask to Samantha, who peered up at him questioningly.

  “No. I had a lot on my mind, and I thought it might help to walk it off.”

  His mouth crooked. “Didn’t you get enough exercise today at the spa?”

  “Oh, my body is worn out. It’s my mind that’s all tied up in knots.”

  He fell into step beside her, not touching her as they continued slowly along the beach. He forced himself to think about her real business with him. “If all your facts are correct and you’ve got the guts to go up against Buchanan when he turns nasty, there’s no real reason why your plan s-s-shouldn’t work, I suppose,” he began hesitantly.

  “With your help,” she amended pointedly, eyes straight ahead. When he said nothing more, she clenched her teeth and absorbed the sense of him striding along beside her. His close proximity out here on the lonely windswept beach generated conflicting emotions deep within her. In one way he made her feel secure. His solid presence made her feel protected, she realized. But in another way, he ruffled some atavistic, feminine sense of wariness which she didn’t understand.

  A faint tingling warning came alive in her head. It was ridiculous, of course. The man was no threat to her. Still, Samantha found herself moving a little way from him as they walked. He was a little too close.

  “Samantha?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “I think we s-s-should start back toward the house.” Damn it to hell, Gabriel thought bitterly. Could she hear the extra hard way he was stumbling over the “sh” sound tonight? He never had been able to say it properly, but here on the beach it sounded worse than usual. It was the tension. He would have to select his words carefully. Soon she would be wondering why he was so damn hot and bothered.

  “You can go back if you like,” she told him in a remote tone, her gaze focusing on the blackness of the endless sea. “I think I’ll walk a little longer. It was very kind of you to come out to keep me company.”

  She had the notion he was gritting his teeth and counting slowly to ten before he said in a very neutral voice, “I’ve already explained that I am not a kind man.”

  “Then why are you out here?”

  He put out a hand, catching her wrist and pulling her around to face him in a swift, striking movement that caught her unawares. It was rather like hitting the end of a chain which was securely anchored at the other end in rock, Samantha thought in a flash as she was halted immediately in her tracks. He was so incredibly solid!

  The hazel eyes blazed down at her with an intensity that took away her breath. “You know why I followed you. You’re bright enough to figure out something as elementary as that, Samantha Maitland. Please don’t play games with me. The one thing I demand from you is honesty!”

  “Is that really all you want from me?” What on earth was she doing? Even she could hear the provoking challenge in her words. Stupid fool!

  “No,” he muttered huskily, dragging her close. “It’s not all I want from you, but it’s a start.”

  Samantha knew an instant of sheer panic as she realized he was going to take her mouth. He had been right. On some level at least she had known why he had followed her down onto the beach. She should have run when she’d seen him crossing the sand toward her.

  Yes, she should have run. As far and as fast as she was able. Samantha had never been so certain of anything before in her life. But it was too late now. His mouth closed over hers.

  It wasn’t at all like being pinned against a rock wall, Samantha had time to realize in vague wonder as Gabriel gathered her close. It was more as if she were being absorbed into the dense granite of him.

  The unexpectedness of the sensation held her still for the crucial moment it took for him to find her mouth with his own. Gabriel’s arms wrapped around her waist and shoulders, and she could feel the hardness of his lower body as he urged her into the heat there.

  His need and desire were as blunt and forceful as the other aspects of his character. The solid, uncompromisingly aroused feel of his body sent a tremor through her limbs.

  Honest was another word which applied, Samantha acknowledged. This man wasn’t playing any tantalizing games. He wanted her and his undisguised, blatant desire was strangely compelling.

  Gabriel’s mouth moved across hers slowly, determinedly, thoroughly. Refusing him admittance into the dark, warm chamber behind her lips would have been like trying to refuse the sea entrance into a shoreline cave as the tide rose. There was an inexorable quality about the whole procedure, and Samantha again wondered if anything or anyone could stop this man once he had set himself on a course of action. There were tactics which could be used against a devil, but could an
yone halt an angel?

  The groan came from deep in Gabriel’s throat as his tongue probed hungrily into the slowly yielding interior of her mouth. The husky sound had a strange effect on Samantha. Her fingers sank into the material of his sweater, finding the hard planes of his shoulders. Her body seemed to relax of its own accord against him. Once inside the warm dampness behind her lips, Gabriel took his time, exploring and claiming completely.

  Half-expecting to find her senses stormed in a rush of masculine aggression, Samantha experienced an enthralling confusion instead as she submitted herself to the slow search-and-seizure operation. Gabriel was as detailed and deliberate as her computer. No point was missed. His tongue swept deeply, seeking out hers for a twisting, writhing little duel which she could not avoid.

  When the intimate battle was over and he, clearly the victor, moved on to taste the hollows of the insides of her cheeks, Samantha decided that the computer analogy only went so far. There was nothing mechanical about the way this man was making her feel!

  A shock of fierce satisfaction and excitement went through Gabriel as he felt Samantha’s response. It fed the new daring, masculine recklessness in him as nothing else could have done. The combined power of the sensations was dazzling. He could feel the softness of her thigh against the hardness of his own and wanted to strip the clothing from her body even as they stood there on the beach. Fantasy and reality merged dangerously. In a few more minutes he would not be able to tell them apart.

  Samantha knew she had done far more than allow her body to simply relax against his by the time Gabriel finally lifted his head with slow reluctance and stared down into her face. She was literally leaning into him, using his rocklike strength to support herself. Behind the lenses of her glasses she tried to narrow her eyes with cool, amused detachment as she met his searching glance, but it seemed as if she could only look up at him in dazed uncertainty.