Double Dealing Read online

  “It’s all right, Samantha,” he whispered hoarsely. “Forget about the business side of this. Tonight there is only you and me.”

  “Gabriel,” she pleaded, her voice sounding awkward and faintly bruised, “I… we can’t separate the business from the rest. It’s all mixed up together, and I make it a policy to never combine business and… and the other.”

  “So do I,” he confessed on a strangely unsettling note of humor. “But it seems as though I don’t have much choice in this case. Samantha, I want you. Tell me what I have to do to get you tonight.”

  Her gaze fell to the level of his shoulder, her senses shaken by the unvarnished demand. “It’s not a matter of doing something in order to buy your way into my bed!” she gasped.

  He closed his eyes in obvious pain at the mess he had made of the question, opening them again to confront her deliberately. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” he began thickly, and then shook his head once in exasperation. “Oh, hell, maybe I did. I’m a straightforward sort of man, Samantha.”

  Her eyes warmed. “Except when it comes to business?” she dared to taunt. “You seem quite willing to keep me dangling on that score!”

  “Leave business out of this,” he grated, not responding to her poor attempt to lighten the situation. “We’ll worry about that part later. Samantha, sweet witch, I’m trying to tell you that I need you tonight. I’ve been wanting you all afternoon. I’m not used to feeling the way you make me feel. It’s not like me to invade spas full of naked women. It’s not like me to deliberately set out to seduce someone who doesn’t show any signs of wanting to be seduced. And it’s not like me to find my hand shaking when I contemplate taking a certain woman to bed! Damn it to hell, woman, I’m half out of my mind with wanting you!”

  He had such a way of putting her off guard, Samantha thought desperately, even as she found herself deeply intrigued by his genuine self-confusion. Why did he have to be so blunt about the whole matter? It was much easier and far safer to play small games at a time like this. Games were a way of dancing around the ultimate question if one didn’t wish to answer it. And she didn’t want to answer it, not tonight, not with Gabriel. Or did she? God, she was beginning to get thoroughly confused herself

  “Are you trying to tell me that I have the power to actually make you behave a little impetuously?” She tried to mock.

  He didn’t smile. “Yes. Impetuously. Rashly. Impulsively. I’m not normally an impulsive man, Samantha. But around you… “

  She shook her head, watching him from beneath her lashes. “You’d probably hate me in the morning then. I don’t want emotions to cloud our business arrangements.”

  “I can’t seem to think as far ahead as tomorrow morning,” he muttered thickly, cradling her head close against his shoulder. He used one square hand to push her head down to the sweater, and although the caress was gentle enough, Samantha realized there was no way on earth she could move from where he held her. “Samantha, I don’t want to talk about how or what I’ll feel tomorrow. Right now all I can think about is… “ The sentence was halted abruptly, and Samantha moved uneasily against him.

  “All you can think about is getting me into bed?” she finished for him, whispering the words into his sweater.

  “That’s a relatively polite way of saying it, I suppose,” he agreed heavily. Yes, getting you into bed his own thoughts echoed, making you mine, hearing you call my name in passion, making you respond to me, learning what it feels like to have you lying beneath me. “What it comes down to, Samantha,” he said finally, “is that I want you, and I don’t care how much it’s going to cost me.”

  She froze. “I’m not for sale, Gabriel!”

  “I’m not talking about money, damn it,” he breathed, catching her chin in the cup of his hand and lifting her face so that she could see the burning intensity in his eyes. “Leave the money out of this!”

  He bent his head again, and Samantha stumbled slightly as he thrust his foot heavily between hers, forcing her weight against him. He sensed the shiver that went through her and immediately tightened his hold.

  “Samantha, Samantha . “ The masculine groan was half plea; half command.

  She felt herself slipping into his sensual trap, her instincts responding to the uncanny pull he was exerting. She had never known a man who made love with this fundamental honesty. With Drew it had been a dance of sophisticated passion, a fantasy of being in tune intellectually and emotionally with the right man. Since the disaster which had ensued in the wake of that affair, Samantha had remained aloof from men. She had not needed one, had not particularly wanted one in any other role than that of casual escort. It had proven easy enough to keep men at a distance, and Samantha thought she at last learned the lesson Vera Maitland had tried to teach. There were far more important matters in life than an ongoing relationship with a man. Someday, she had promised herself, she would take the lesson the rest of the way and allow herself the occasional brief affair. Vera was the last person on earth to suggest that a woman deny herself the physical pleasures of a man-woman association.

  But tonight Samantha couldn’t seem to think properly. There was something new and different in the charged atmosphere which was enveloping herself and Gabriel. She wanted to fully experience the powerful feelings this man was capable of arousing within her. She wanted to explore the depths of this man’s passion. There was nothing wrong with experimentation and discovery, she reminded herself. There was nothing wrong with taking a few risks. So long as one did not surrender completely to the fantasy that was love.

  Love. The word flickered in and out of her brain, and instantly she felt more certain of her rationalizing thoughts. There was no love involved here. As long as she acknowledged that, she was safe. Perhaps the time had come to allow herself to venture once more into the waters of sensual fulfillment. As a woman she was entitled to experience the pleasures of a physical relationship. As an intelligent, thinking woman she could do that without courting disaster. All she had to do was keep things in perspective.

  As if he sensed her internal decision, Gabriel dragged his mouth off hers. Without a word he pinned her to his side, his arm tightly anchored around her shoulders, and led her back across the sand toward the beachfront home.

  He was aware of the trembling in his own hands as he guided her silently through the night. She was going to give him what he needed tonight. A part of him could hardly believe it, and another side of him insisted that there could have been no other outcome. He had to have her.

  Deliberately he stopped trying to analyze the conflicting emotions. She was coming home with him. That was all that mattered tonight. With this woman he was learning the real meaning of reckless passion, he tried to tell himself humorously. But it was too close to being reality to elicit even a slight smile. True impulsiveness was something you laughed or cried over after the fact, not during the experience.

  Samantha blindly pushed aside her own thoughts. The details could be sorted out in the morning. Right now she only wanted to learn what lay in store for her in an angel’s arms. She, too, winced a bit at the faint trembling in her fingertips, and then she forgot about it as Gabriel urged her down the carpeted hall to his bedroom.

  He got her through the door and then he folded her into his arms as if he couldn’t wait an instant longer. She was fleetingly aware of the uncluttered simplicity of the room, knew that the windows faced the ocean, but all she could concentrate on was the feel of his hands as they went unhesitatingly to the buttons of her black leather jacket.

  Holding her mouth damply with his own, Gabriel slipped the leather from her shoulders. A moment later his hands flattened along the slender line of her back and then moved slowly around her waist until they rested just beneath the small weight of her breasts. The thin cotton fabric of her shirt conducted the heat of his palms with startling efficiency. Samantha could feel it burning into her flesh, and she whispered his name helplessly into his throat.

  “I
want to see you the way I saw you this afternoon,” he growled gently, “soft and naked and waiting for me.” He buried his lips in her hair, nuzzling the sweet place behind her ear as he worked carefully to undo the tiny buttons of her shirt.

  He was a precise, step-by-step sort of man, Samantha reminded herself wonderingly as she submitted meekly to the slow, deliberate undressing. Who would have thought that there could be such mounting excitement to be had simply from being undressed so precisely?

  He took his time and did it right. Each button down the front of the shirt and then the ones at the cuffs were carefully undone before he eased the material off and set the garment down on top of the leather jacket which had been placed on a nearby chair.

  She had worn no bra, and when he turned back to her, Samantha’s breasts were bathed in moonlight. “You fit my palm perfectly,” he breathed, reaching out to cup the soft weight of one breast in his fingers. “When I first saw you on that massage table, I wanted to pull that towel off of you, turn you over on your back, and just look at you.”

  Samantha inhaled sharply, her body reacting unbelievably as he lowered his head and curled his tongue lingeringly around each nipple in turn. She felt the round, dark peaks being coaxed forth into an aching tautness that sent echoing ripples of sensation down into her thighs. Slowly Gabriel tasted and cajoled and urged with his tongue and lips until he seemed reluctantly satisfied with the effect he’d had on her body.

  “Tell me you want me,” he muttered deeply, lifting his head again and taking one of her hands in his. “Tell me that this is a sign of wanting.”

  Before she quite realized what he intended, Gabriel gently forced her fingertips to her breast, making her fully aware of the ruby-hard evidence of her own desire. Samantha gasped, strangely astounded, even a little alarmed at the incredibly erotic effect the caress had on her. She had thought herself as much in tune with her own body as any other woman, but never before had she been made to touch it under the guidance of a man.

  “Gabriel, please,” she moaned, putting her face into his solid shoulder to hide the flame in her cheeks. She tried to tug her hand away from his, but he held it to her breast a moment longer.

  “Tell me,” he urged thickly.

  “I want you.” The words came in a little relieved rush. It was the truth. There was nothing wrong with wanting a man, she told herself again and again. Nothing at all. But that knowledge didn’t cancel the odd fear she experienced when she realized just how much she desired Gabriel Sinclair.

  He dropped her hand, and she hastily wound both arms around his neck as he murmured the words of need into her ear. Then she felt the clasp of her jeans being undone, and the denim was peeled away from her hips. A moment later she stood naked in the shadowy room, pressing close as Gabriel slid his large hands hungrily up and down her spine. The rough texture of his sweater teased the already inflamed nipples.

  Slowly he rocked her from side to side against his body, brushing her hips with exciting roughness along the outline of the waiting hardness beneath his jeans.

  Of their own accord her fingers moved down his shoulders and up under the dark blue sweater to find the bare, warm skin underneath. “You could drive me crazy tonight, do you know that?” he demanded fiercely.

  “Have you ever been crazy?”

  “Not until I met you.”

  With shaking hands she got his sweater off, dumping it heedlessly to the floor rather than folding it carefully and stacking it on the chair as he had done with her things. “Angel hair,” she drawled deliciously, spreading her fingertips through the curling mass on his chest.

  “If you like the hair, you’ll love the feathers.” Gabriel flinched at his own poor joke. He rarely made jokes of any kind, least of all when he was making love to a woman. Carefully he put out a hand and removed her glasses, setting them aside with grave precision.

  “Feathers?” Samantha looked up at him through her lashes.

  “On my back. Where the wings are, of course.”

  “I can’t wait.” With a soft sigh she leaned her cheek against his bare shoulder and trailed her nails down across the flat, masculine nipple. When the caress made him suck in his breath, she continued it boldly, probing at the waistband of his jeans.

  “Finish undressing me, Samantha,” he rasped, taking hold of both of her palms and fitting them to his waist. He nibbled hungrily at the tip of her ear and along the line of her jaw as she obediently began pushing the rough denim down the flat planes of his hips.

  She realized abruptly that just as she hadn’t taken the time to pull on underwear before sliding into her jeans earlier, neither had Gabriel bothered with a pair of shorts. With alarming swiftness the full, surging heaviness of his manhood was revealed, his arousal somehow a challenge and a threat.

  As his jeans fell to the floor at his feet, Samantha stepped back reflexively, but he clamped his fingers into the curve of her buttocks and dragged her close again, eyes gleaming. I want you, Samantha. So badly I can’t even think straight. Touch me, honey. Touch me!”

  She moaned, fluttering her hands down to rest on the solid, strong line of his thighs. Gabriel shivered in reaction, and his response gave her the courage to continue the bold caress. With tingling lightness she traced the outline of body hair from below his navel to the thrusting shape of his masculinity.

  Unsatisfied with the delicate touch, Gabriel pushed himself deeply into her warm palm, urging her to caress him more forcefully. Simultaneously he let his fingers slide tantalizingly into the curve of her buttocks.

  “Oh, my God! Gabriel, I … I’m going to lose my balance.” She panted, releasing him to sink her fingertips helplessly into his shoulders as she sought to steady herself Her eyes were half-closed and glazed with a passion she didn’t fully comprehend.

  She felt the throbbing triumph in him as he wordlessly scooped her up into his arms and carried her across to the bed. When she sprawled languidly down on the sheets, he leaned over to cage her possessively between his arms.

  “I keep telling myself that we’ve got the rest of the night,” he whispered huskily, “but I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

  “Is that a warning?”

  “A statement of fact.”

  She smiled tremulously up at him with ancient, feminine provocation, holding out her arms. His rocklike weight came down to half-cover her body in a wave of elemental force.

  “Oh, Gabriel!” Samantha’s eyes squeezed shut against the unexpected rushes of pleasure he began eliciting as his hands wandered over her body, bringing each part of her pulsatingly alive. Her legs shifted on the cool sheets, seeking to entwine him, and the crystallized copper of her nails left tiny marks in his bronzed skin as she began to cling to him more and more demandingly.

  “Tell me again how much you want me,” he ordered against the soft curve of her breast just before his teeth closed over one rigid nipple. “I need to hear the words.”

  “I want you, Gabriel. I need you. I have to feel you inside of me.” Could he hear the bewilderment she felt beneath her haze of passion? Nothing had prepared her for her response to this man. The pleasure in her body had turned into compulsion. When his heated kisses reached her stomach, she arched her lower body in reaction. “Now, Gabriel, please, now!”

  “Not yet, honey. Not yet.”

  There would be no pushing him, she realized finally. Gabriel Sinclair did everything carefully and thoroughly. When his fingers slid between her thighs, she closed her legs quickly, needing the feel of him there to help ease the growing pressure. Her muscles could not remain locked against the persuasive biting kisses he began to trail through the curling hair which marked the delta of her thighs, however.

  “Open yourself for me, witch. Let me know all there is to know about you.”

  She obeyed, moaning his name again and again as he stroked the petaled, inner reaches of her desire. Her hands locked in his hair, urging him to her, but he held back from the final union.

  “Gabrie
l, please,” she whispered impulsively, “I can’t bear any more.” With all her strength she tugged at the mass of his shoulders, trying to pull him onto and into her body.

  Gabriel gloried in the words of her passionate surrender, exploring the dampening heat between her legs with wonder. She wasn’t playing any games. There was no artifice in this. Samantha was aching for him, wooing him with the primitive demands of her womanhood. The scent of her body was rich and compelling. He felt at once trapped in her power and magnificently in control of this elusive creature under him.

  This woman was his and his alone tonight. The knowledge pounded in his brain and in his loins. He would take her completely, lose himself in her, fill her totally. He felt an irresistible need to imprint himself so thoroughly on her senses that she would never be able to look at another man.

  And then be could wait no longer. More roughly than he intended, he pulled her legs apart and lowered himself down onto her until he was poised at the flowering entrance of her body.

  “Gabriel!”

  He surged fiercely forward, sheathing himself in the thick, tight velvet folds of her. He felt the shock of his entry ripple through her body and heard the soft gasp of startled wonder at the back of her throat.

  Gabriel halted at once, his face tight with the conflicting emotions of passion and concern. “Honey, are you all right? Have I hurt you, sweetheart?”

  “Hurt me? No,” she managed, clutching at his heavy shoulders. “Oh, don’t stop, Gabriel, please,” she sighed. “Don’t stop now.”

  The concern faded from the tight lines at the corner of his mouth, and he lowered himself heavily to her breast with a muttered groan of desire. Then he was thrusting with a slow, steady rhythm that made Samantha overwhelmingly aware that the solidness of him extended to every part of his body.

  The crescendo of his lovemaking mounted, becoming an irresistible spiral of sensation that grabbed at her senses and pulled them headfirst into the final vortex.