What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 5)

by Cathryn Fox

  When an elbow slammed into her side, Samantha gave a startled yelp, stumbled over a foot she failed to see, and collided full-length onto a tall man lounging against the counter. The contents of his glass splashed in every direction.

  “I am so sorry,” she babbled, grabbing a fistful of cocktail napkins to blot his coat. A tooth-picked cherry and orange slice had spiked his lapel.

  “Take it easy. Actually I think it tones down the jacket,” came the rather humorous reply with more than a trace of an accent. He plucked the garnish off his breast pocket and confiscated the soggy napkins from her hand. “What happened? Are you alright?”

  Samantha looked up and encountered a handsome blond-haired stranger smiling down at her. “I’m fine. Tripped up by someone’s big foot. I hope I haven’t ruined your jacket.” She was relieved that he seemed very friendly and was not going to make a scene.

  “Don’t worry about it. I was going to take it off after the break anyway. It gets rather hot playing the drums under all those lights,” he slanted down at her. “I’m Brian Taylor, by the way.”

  Samantha realized that he was indeed wearing one of the more theatrical blazers that were part of the band’s wardrobe. After she had introduced herself, Brian insisted on buying her a drink for medicinal purposes.

  “A club soda, please.” He nodded to the hovering bartender, indicating two. “Have you been playing with the group long?” She inquired politely, letting him guide her to the quiet end of the bar where their beverages had been served.

  “We’ve been together for three years. Just released two albums that climbed the charts very nicely. We all get along extremely well, which is half the battle when you’re on tour.”

  Her head tilted, puzzling over his accent. “Where are you from?”

  “Australia. This is our first tour in the states.”

  “Well, you certainly sound great. The place is packed to the stalactites,” she smiled engagingly at him.

  Brian laughed. “As a matter of fact we’ve been signed for a return engagement next month. Tomorrow we’re headed for a week in the Catskills, then onto New York City.”

  “That’s pretty country down there, especially this time of year.”

  “Things are looking mighty pretty right here,” he countered charmingly, his hand moved to push back her hair. “What are the chances of my seeing you again when we return to Albany?”

  Samantha’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s a terrific line you’ve got there,” she admonished him playfully, peering over the tops of her glasses. “By the time tonight is over, you’ll forget I even exist.”

  Brian’s forefinger gently pushed the frames back on her nose. “I won’t, you know.” His tone was serious. “As a matter of fact I was watching you on the dance floor. The guy you’re with should really take better care of you.”

  “Oh, my…” she jumped guiltily, “I forgot about Adam.”

  “That’s a good sign,” Brian grinned. “How about if I call you when we return? You are in the phone book?”

  “I’ll tell you what. If you can remember my name, you’ve got a date,” she dimpled impishly at him. “Right now, I better get back or they’ll be sending a search party for me.”

  Brian checked his watch. “I’ll escort you to your table before I head back to the stage. Our break is just about over and I wouldn’t want you to get into any more trouble.”

  With an arm slid around her waist, Brian guided her through the standing-room only bar crowd then directed her across the dance floor. Approaching the table, Samantha could see Adam, standing with his back toward her, apparently searching the room. Janine’s loud, snide remark assaulted her ears: “I told you she left the powder room before I did. You did say she had her own car, maybe she decided to dump you and go home.”

  Abruptly, Brian stopped and turned Samantha toward him. “Now there’s a catty bird. I’m not sure I should return you to these people.” He growled into her ear. “Why not join me; I’ll have a table set up for you by the stage.”

  “She’s my boss’s daughter,” Samantha explained, “and that will only make matters worse.”

  “Well, then why don’t we give her something to really talk about?” A devilish glint invaded his brown eyes.

  Before Samantha realized what Brian was up to, she found herself locked in a tight embrace. His kiss was hard and purposeful. And she was left stunned and breathless.

  Brian guided her to the table and took control of the conversation. “You really should take better care of her, mate; someone just might decide to steal Samantha.” Brian turned, gifted her with an exaggerated wink then sauntered back to the stage.

  “What the hell was that all about?” Adam pulled out her chair.

  Samantha quickly explained what had happened, aware of Janine’s unabashed interest in their conversation.

  “Really, Samantha, you do have a novel way of picking up men,” Janine intoned with heavy sarcasm. “Adam, it looks like you’ve already been replaced.”

  Samantha took a deep breath. She’d had enough. First Don Clark, then Janine’s insinuations and gibes. Her beautiful evening was sinking into oblivion. “It’s getting late and I have a long drive home. I’m going to call it a night.” Grabbing her purse, Samantha stood and looked at Adam, wondering what his choice would be. He quickly made their excuses, guiding her out of the lounge and into the cool, crisp night air.

  Chapter Nine

  “Why don’t you stay and finish out the evening.” She felt oddly guilty at him leaving.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I came with you. I’ll follow you home.”

  His curt, almost harsh tone had Samantha looking up from unlocking the car door. “You don’t have to follow me home. It’s silly for you to drive all that distance only to come right back again.”

  Seeing her shiver in the cool night air, Adam exhaled an exasperated sigh. He took off his jacket and slung it around her shoulders, holding the lapels so that she was forced to look at him. “I said I would see you home and I meant it! Keep this around you until your car warms up.” Green eyes locked onto blue as he yanked the jacket and Samantha close against him. His mouth slanted hard across her full lips in a kiss more savage than gentle. “Make sure you tread lightly on the gas and don’t push that speedometer over fifty,” came his gruff warning.

  The headlights of the Jaguar stayed close behind. Traffic was exceptionally moderate on the interstate; with only an occasional red tail-light visible in the distance. Long after the heater took the chill off the car’s interior, Samantha’s cheek snuggled against the soft cashmere of Adam’s blazer, the spicy scent of his cologne tantalized her senses.

  She had failed to make him not matter. She had failed to make herself not react. She had failed to smother her feelings. Inevitably, Samantha’s thoughts wandered back to the taunts Janine had made. She was positive it was just a cruel attempt to ruin her evening. But what if Adam thought that she was trying to honey-trap him? She needed to set him straight.

  Checking her rearview mirror, Samantha couldn’t help feel a little thrill by Adam’s possessively protective attitude. First his jumping to her defense with Don Clark and then seeing her home. A little imp of deviltry made her press the accelerator down, watching the speedometer climb past fifty.

  When Adam saw the red tail-lights of the white Chevy shoot ahead, his hand smashed down hard on the horn. With a satisfied grunt, he watched her brake lights glow as the car resumed its previous speed. He had given up smoking more than ten years ago, but the urge for a cigarette hit him hard. Damn, he needed something. The glove compartment yielded a pack of peppermint Chiclets that proved a life-line.

  His teeth pulverized the gum’s outer coating while he moodily stared at the car ahead of him. He had been fighting his reaction all week. Samantha had gotten under his skin to such an extent that he found he started and ended his day thinking about her. She was certainly short tempered; he remembered how that tapping foot of hers nearly made a hole in
the mall’s parking lot. She had a sarcastic wit that he looked forward to; a wicked sense of humor and fertile imagination. He liked her independent spirit that seemed evident even in the confident way she walked.

  The harder Adam chewed, the quicker the gum shredded into…nothing. He popped another piece into his mouth. His thoughts raced back to that asshole in her night class. What if that fucker tried to hurt her again? What if he tried to do more than grab her? That thought refused to be ignored. He wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt her.

  Samantha was no tease. She just had the innate ability to make everyone feel good about themselves; to make an instant connection no matter what the social situation. Samantha seemed to be able to make a new best friend in an instant.

  Adam had thought that if he saw her again, spent time alone with her over dinner, he could find fault with her and get her out of his system. Instead, all he could see was the delightful way she blushed and the laughter dancing in her eyes. He vividly recalled the taste of her soft lips. And that’s all it took, an instant recall, and his body reacted. Damn, he was too old for this randy frat-boy bullshit reaction.

  He powered down the side window, letting the cool night air calm him down. He had gotten the shock of his life tonight when Samantha had returned to the table with another man’s arm around her. Adam had had to suppress a primitive urge to punch the musician when he’d kissed her. And what the hell was that kiss all about?

  He never would have imagined he could feel such intense jealousy over a woman. He always had been relieved when some other man took one off his hands. Adam’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. He was surprised at his confusion, Samantha brought out feelings he couldn’t control.

  She was a threat. His anger grew. She was the most dangerous kind of woman – the kind you fall in love with. And she meant too much to him already for his own peace of mind. Hastily, he downshifted and pulled up in back of her car.

  Samantha slid her key into the lock. Despite the lateness of the hour, she had decided to invite Adam in for coffee. Did wouldyouliketocomeinforcoffee still just mean coffee? And did she really mean coffee? Vertical coffee? Or, she exhaled a long breath, horizontal, breakfast coffee? There was a buzzing in her head but no prickles down her back. But the invitation died before it was ever issued, when she saw Adam purposefully striding toward her, the porch lights illuminating his angry features.

  “Where the hell did you learn to drive? All some cop had to do was pull you over, smell the alcohol on your breath, and you would have been in one hell of a mess!”

  Samantha felt her own temper flame. “You make it sound like I’ve been drinking all night! I had one sip of that brandy. Nothing else but coffee. I’m up to any kind of test anyone could give me for drinking or driving!” She glared at him, stamping her foot.

  “Can’t you even follow a simple little request for staying five miles under the speed limit? You have got to be the most obstinate, willful, exasperating female I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet!”

  Samantha gasped, his words hit her like a slap in the face. “If that’s the way you feel, allow me to remove myself from your presence.” With that, she pushed open the front door and slammed it hard in his face.

  What nerve! Samantha threw her purse and book tote on the coffee table. She looked down at his cashmere blazer, unbuttoned it, tied the sleeves in a tight knot and tossed it at the sofa. She only wished Adam were in it!

  “I’ve never had one ticket in the eleven years I’ve had my license. I’d never drink and drive,” she yelled at the closed door, before realizing that he must be back on the highway.

  Samantha stomped up the stairs, swearing at each step. What a jerk! The man had a Jekyll-and-Hyde personality and she had enough gems of enmity to stock her for a month! She watched her gray suede pumps do angry somersaults into her closet. She had little regard for her suit as she stripped and pulled her nightshirt roughly over her head.

  Picking up her clothes, she noticed the gaping runs she had put in new pair of pantyhose. Hot tears stung her eyes. She knew damn well it wasn’t the price of the stockings that was causing her to cry. Samantha placed her glasses on the night table, and then succumbed to the tears that had begun to fall. The sobs made her head ache and formed a thick lump in her throat. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she wandered dejectedly into the bathroom.

  Samantha viewed the blurred, red-eyed, pale-faced woman in the mirror with unequivocal self-mortification. She was the jerk! Again! Adam wasn’t angry with her driving. He probably realized his mistake and recognized what an inexperienced, inadequate person she was. It was just his way of getting rid of an unwanted encumbrance.

  Well, it didn’t matter! He didn’t matter! She scrubbed soap over her face then felt more tears mingling with the tap water. A shock went through her body. Of course he mattered! Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You were inviting him in for coffee! You know damn good and well that coffee is a euphemism for—Where was the nearest brick wall to beat her head against? Damn, what was that clichéd line? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

  “I am still the fool!” Samantha sat down hard on the edge of the white enamel bathtub. “Hell, Janine’s right, he probably thinks I’m out to trap him or I’m a four-F-Club member, who isn’t even worthy.”

  She sniffed and swallowed hard. People get over these feelings all the time. Samantha bit her lip, hard. Hell, she wasn’t even sure what feelings she had. Liar! She knew her feelings. She knew the attraction. Luckily, she hadn’t acted on it.

  Okay, it would take a while and it wasn’t going to be easy, but at least she wouldn’t have to go through the ordeal of seeing Adam Rourke constantly – only twice more and each time there would be a crowd of people around to ease the pain and strain.

  Her hand came up to smack her cheek. She had a list of things to focus on rather than that man! She had an office to pack up; final exams to take. Tomorrow she’d get passport photos done at the drug store and download the form. She’d run her budget numbers again. While she seldom used credit cards, she did have one…and hell, why not splurge on herself. Book the dive trip. Get a life. Samantha had the ticket Ray and Lucy sent her; California was looking better and better. She wouldn’t be in their way, they had a guest house. She took a deep breath. Perfect. Problem solved. Yup, Adam Rourke is no longer a problem in my life!

  Samantha congratulated herself on being able to get such a logical grip on her emotions. She opened the medicine cabinet, extracted two aspirins and reached for a paper cup, only to find the holder empty. Switching on the landing light, she groped her way down the stairs to the kitchen.

  It took three attempts to swallow the aspirin. She fervently hoped they would work and she wouldn’t spend the entire night tossing and turning…between the headache and all that coffee. No, I’ll count the sheep on my nightshirt. I refuse to waste one more second thinking about that man!

  As she mounted the stairs, she heard the hinges squeak on the front door. Someone was breaking into her house! This was the last straw. “That damn man cursed me.” No one had burglarized a cottage up here since the Revolutionary War.

  Samantha was ready for them. Her palm itched to form a fist and hit someone. She’d just put Don Clark’s and Janine Griffen’s face on whoever was breaking in. And Adam Rourke’s…oh, yes, his too. Her fist smashed into her palm.

  She squinted into the shadowed darkness of the living room. Anything beyond six feet was a blur and Samantha cursed herself for leaving her glasses upstairs. “Who’s there? I’m warning you. If you’ve come to rape, pillage and plunder. I don’t get paid until next week, the good stuff is in the hall closet and I am so not in the mood for anything else.” Her voice sounded strong and confident.

  A familiar mocking laugh assaulted her ears. “You left your keys in the lock,” Adam’s tone was scornful. “Where the hell are your glasses?”

  “What I do in my house is none of your business.” Samantha squared her shoulders,
and drew herself up to her full height. “I thought you’d left.” She stayed on the first riser, which made her taller.

  “No. I couldn’t leave.”

  She blinked in surprise. His blazer, she thought wildly. “Well, of course you couldn’t leave without your jacket.” Her voice was thick with sarcasm. “I wasn’t going to keep it or sell it,” she sneered. “I would have returned it tomorrow.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” Adam interrupted roughly. “I didn’t come back for my coat.”

  Samantha could feel her anger escalating, her foot started tapping furiously against the carpeted step. She strove to keep her voice cold and filled with complete indifference. “If you’re worried about my saying anything about your despicable behavior and lack of manners, I wouldn’t dream of hurting the judge, he thinks of you like a son and—”

  “You still haven’t got it right,” he interrupted again.

  “Oh, I got it all right. Please, give me some credit; I don’t need my glasses to really see you, Mr. Rourke!” Samantha broke in hotly, her eyes angry sapphire slits. She stood her ground when he moved to stand in front of her. “I understood you loud and clear. It wasn’t my driving ability at all, it was provincial little me! I would have thought that a man with your obvious, worldly experience could come up with a more ingenious way to dump someone who’s only brush with royalty is a king who flips burgers,” she sneered contemptuously.

  “My God! Is that what you thought? That I was trying to get dump you?”

  The odd inflection in his tone made her myopic blue eyes widen in confusion. “Isn’t that what – You…I…aren’t you dumping me?”

  Adam reached up, lifted her off the staircase and forcefully pulled her into his arms. His eyes locked onto hers. She took a lot of holding. Her body was stiff with anger; her mouth tight with tension. Her hands splayed against his chest as if to push him away. But she wasn’t pushing.