by Jayne Castle
Gabriel stood behind Samantha as she opened the door, just out of the line of sight the visitor would have as he stood on the threshold. A few seconds of time in which to observe the other before making his own presence known was all he was going to get. But it should be enough to tell him what he was dealing with, Gabriel thought.
“Good morning, Drew,” Samantha said with a chilling politeness Gabriel had never heard from her. The amazon in action.
He took an instant to reassure himself with the knowledge that even when she was thoroughly annoyed with him she had never turned that feminine ice on him. Then he focused all his attention on the tall, lean man filling the doorway.
Drew Buchanan was, Gabriel saw at once, the kind of man women would always be pursuing. That lazy smile, the open, handsome features, and all that corporate power were bound to be one hell of a lure. Something about Buchanan promised moonlight and roses, dinners at the most elegant restaurants, and a sophisticated sensuality. And something about Buchanan was as phony as a three-dollar bill. Samantha professed a total lack of interest in the man himself, claiming she only wanted her revenge in order to prove something to herself and her mother. But was she really free of the man’s charm?
Gabriel watched Samantha’s intended victim through narrowed, assessing eyes and realized belatedly that he had formed a fist with his hand. Deliberately he unfolded his fingers. Small, highly significant gestures such as that would not go unnoticed by Buchanan. Furthermore, Gabriel thought grimly, he’d never been prone to such blatant, outward displays of his own emotional state. Then again, he rarely experienced highly emotional states. Only Samantha had the power to elicit such drastic responses, he realized with an inner sigh. And watching her confront her ex-fiancé was not going to be easy on his nerves. The worst part, though, was that he had the distinct feeling she didn’t know quite what she had unleashed here this morning. She was probably going to be in for a shock.
“Good morning, Sam,” Buchanan said with lethal charm. Gabriel found himself hating the familiar way the other man shortened her name. “I’ve been doing a little thinking, and I have an idea or two you might want to consider. May I come in?”
“Of course,” She stepped aside with ready grace. “There’s someone here I want you to meet, anyway.”
Gabriel heard the barely concealed note of expectancy in her voice and almost winced. Samantha was about to pull another rabbit out of the hat, and this time he, himself, was going to be the grand surprise. He had time to wonder sardonically just how terrifically surprised Buchanan was going to be, and then Samantha was turning to make the introductions. Gabriel felt a pang of helpless protectiveness as he saw the fiercely satisfied expression lighting her eyes. Helpless because he couldn’t protect and defend her in a way she would approve. He could only do it his way, and given the fact that he was dealing with Buchanan, she was going to feel a little battered by the time it was all over.
“Drew, this is Gabriel Sinclair. I knew you’d be interested in meeting him.” Gabriel felt his arm taken in an unexpectedly possessive grasp. “Gabriel is the venture capitalist who is my partner in the restaurant deal.”
Buchanan’s gaze flickered rapidly over Gabriel, assessing and summarizing his opponent just as Gabriel had done earlier. Now they were even. Neither man offered a hand in greeting. Instead they both inclined their heads in polite acknowledgment of the open warfare which existed between them.
“I did wonder how Samantha scraped together enough cash to pick up on that option,” Buchanan drawled rather idly.
“She’s sharp,” Gabriel murmured noncommittally.
“Thank you,” Buchanan said, smiling broadly as he prepared to take the first lunge with the verbal sword. “I taught her everything she knows … and not just about business.”
Gabriel sensed rather than heard Samantha’s small, angry gasp, but he didn’t divert his attention from the other man for a second. He did experience a mild surge of irritation, though. What did she think this kind of confrontation was going to be like? A polite exchange of masculine pleasantries over a glass of sherry? He had news for her: It was going to get a lot nastier.
“I understand,” Gabriel said with an air of complacency as he led the way into the living room. “That explains a few of the gaps in her education. Naturally, I’m doing my best to eradicate some of the unfortunate misconceptions she arrived with when she came to my bed.”
“Gabriel!” His name emerged as a mixture of fury and dismay from her lips. He didn’t look at her, having his hands full with Buchanan.
“I wasn’t aware I had left her with any misconceptions,” Drew said with a clinical glance at Samantha’s whitening face. She was standing frozen in the doorway as the two men sank down across from each other in the overstuffed chairs.
“A few major ones, I’m afraid,” Gabriel drawled, leaning forward to lace his fingers between his knees while he studied the other man intently. “Such as the notion that it’s never quite as good for the woman as it is for the man. I think that I’ve managed to persuade Sam otherwise. Samantha,” he applauded softly, “is a very fast learner.”
Out of the corner of his eye Gabriel saw Samantha absorb the shock of the tactics he had applied to Buchanan. He knew she was finding herself speechlessly enraged in the face of such crude male savagery, but he also knew there was no choice. Buchanan had chosen the weapons, starting off by declaring a contest over which of them could claim Samantha. That Samantha herself undoubtedly did not wish to be claimed by either man was beside the point. God knew he was going to pay dearly later for putting her through the ordeal.
Buchanan’s eyes were blank and cold as he made no effort at all to translate his smile to them. “Perhaps one of these days I’ll get around to finding out just how much you’ve actually taught her.”
“Ah, well, I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” Gabriel sighed with mock regret, glancing down at his loosely locked hands. “Samantha, it turns out, is a one-man woman. After s-s-she finds the right man, naturally.” Damn it to hell! Why hadn’t he planned that sentence ahead in his mind!
“And you think she’s found the right man now?” Drew murmured. Gabriel knew from the gleam in his eyes that the other man had found the slight stammer very interesting. The last thing he wanted to do was betray any sort of weakness, and Buchanan was certainly the type to interpret such a shortcoming.
Time to draw this unpleasant scene to a conclusion. Gabriel nodded at the still-silent Samantha. “Ask her.”
But the simple, challenging words proved to be the catalyst Samantha needed to unstick herself from the doorway. Gabriel saw the angry fire in her eyes as she came toward him, but it was the only indication of her emotional state. The rest of her was under complete control, right down to the cool little smile she gave him and the small intimate gesture of resting her fingertips on his shoulder as she came to a halt beside the chair. She looked at Buchanan.
“There’s no need to ask, Drew. Gabriel is a little heavy-handed about such things at times, but he’s quite right, you know. Our, uh, partnership is a complex one, to put it mildly. You really don’t have a snowball’s chance in Hades of seducing me.”
“Your tastes have changed, love,” Drew said far too casually.
“They’ve become more discriminating,” she agreed easily.
Gabriel saw the flash of quickly controlled fury in Buchanan’s eyes and knew there was still a long way to swim to shore if Samantha was to be protected from this particular barracuda, but she, herself, had taken a major step toward constructing her own defense by picking up on his cues.
And for that he could only be grateful because in her current mood one took a risk by expecting her to be thinking rationally. Still, she seemed to have recognized how crucial it was to show no chips in the mortar of their combined front. Gabriel’s fingers tightened momentarily as he thought again of the scene which would take place when Buchanan finally left. Samantha was going to tear very wide strips off him, he knew, an
d he wondered fleetingly whatever had happened to his status as an angel. It had been rather short-lived. Pity. He had been coming to enjoy it.
“Now that the fundamentals have been dealt with,” Gabriel announced smoothly, “perhaps we can get down to business. You need that land on which our restaurant is sitting, Buchanan. The only question left is how badly do you want it.”
“I’m sure you know the answer to that,” Buchanan said softly, “or you would never have agreed to back Sam in this little revenge plot.”
Gabriel felt Samantha’s fingertips tremble slightly where they rested on his shoulder. “Your understanding of Samantha’s little scheme is as off base as your understanding of other aspects of her character, but we’ll let that pass. The problem at hand is money.”
“Seven hundred and fifty thousand in ransom, I believe,” the other man growled.
“Not a bad price, actually, considering what potential that chunk of real estate has for your development project.” Damn Samantha and her decision to up the ante. It was going to be tricky negotiating back down to a more reasonable figure without making himself look weak and thereby jeopardizing the deal altogether. Perhaps he’d tear a few stripes off her sweet hide during the coming battle. Why should she have all the satisfaction?
“Samantha and I are reasonable people, however…”
“Meaning that’s an asking price? Not a firm one?”
Again Gabriel felt Samantha’s hand tremble on his shoulder, and he knew it was from frustrated anger not nervousness or fear. She didn’t want to negotiate. She wanted to take Buchanan to the cleaners. But at least she had the sense to keep her mouth shut.
“We would, of course, be quite interested in hearing any offers.” Gabriel watched the other man’s eyes for any kind of information he could get.
“Try a hundred K. Double what you paid for the taco stand.” Buchanan sat back and waited.
It was Samantha who spoke before Gabriel could reply. “Come now, Drew. You know very well you’re not the only potential buyer out there.”
“Who else is going to give you a hundred thousand dollars for that old restaurant?” be challenged.
“Someone else who knows you’re eventually going to need that land and is willing to buy it off of us and turn around and sell it to you. Perhaps for more than seven hundred and fifty thousand.”
“You’d sacrifice it at a hundred grand rather than negotiate with me for a higher figure?”
Gabriel took a hand. “Samantha is overstating the case a bit. We’re willing to talk, Buchanan. But we’re not going to let you have any bargains.”
Buchanan studied the pair of them, the quiet, reserved man in the chair and the willful, temperamental woman who stood beside him. The unknown factor in this new equation was Gabriel Sinclair. Buchanan was too much a businessman to make a move before checking out all the unknowns. He got to his feet in an impatient movement.
“I’ll let you know my best offer in a few days.” He gave Samantha a level stare. “You’re not going to have this all your own way, baby. And you should know me well enough to realize that.” He flicked Gabriel a disdainful glance. “You’re welcome to her, you know. Frankly, when her father said she’d lose her inheritance if she married me, she managed to lose her main appeal. Or perhaps you enjoy following a woman around like a tame lapdog as she hatches one crazy scheme after another?”
“Why, you bastard!” Samantha’s tone was low and threatening.
Gabriel grabbed for her wrist as she started toward Buchanan. “Stop it, Samantha!” he grated, jerking her to a halt. But not before he’d spotted the curiously satisfied look which flared in Buchanan’s eyes as the other man turned his back on both of them and strode out the front door.
“He called you a tame lapdog!” Samantha whirled to face Gabriel as he held her wrist tethered between his fingers.
Gabriel arched one brow quizzically, examining the outrage in her eyes. “Is that why you went for him? Because he called me a lapdog? I thought it was because he deliberately insulted you.”
“Well, he did! But he also managed to insult you, in case you didn’t notice!”
“I’ve been called worse.” He shrugged philosophically. So she’d taken offense on his behalf. That was a rather pleasant thought, especially considering that he wasn’t exactly in her good graces at the moment. Then he wryly mocked himself for the thought. When a man found himself wanting a woman as badly as he wanted Samantha, he tended to seize at the smallest bits of comfort. Maybe he was becoming something of a lapdog!
“What are you smiling at?” Samantha freed her wrist, absently rubbing it as she stalked stiffly across the room.
“The possibility that Buchanan may be right. I do seem to find myself trailing around after you, trying to pretend I’m in charge of this nutty scheme and only succeeding in getting myself more mired down in the process.”
“Are you going to stand there and insult me, too? On top of that horribly macho scene you just put me through?” She lifted her head, fixing him with an infuriated glare. “I will never forgive you for that, Gabriel. I would never have expected such locker room behavior from you!”
“Buchanan started it.” He didn’t really expect the protest to make much headway, and he wasn’t disappointed.
“We were supposed to be conducting high-level financial business with him! And you sit there and brag about your performance in bed!”
“Was I bragging?” he heard himself ask wistfully.
Samantha nearly choked on her own words as her outrage threatened to overwhelm her. “Don’t you dare look at me like that!” she ordered fiercely.
“Like what?”
“Like some damn tame lapdog!”
“Which approach do you prefer?” he asked conversationally, starting toward her. “The lapdog or the locker room machismo?” He started toward her, knowing now exactly what he was going to do. Why should he stand here letting her rant and rave when he was the innocent party in all this?
She must have seen the intent in his eyes because she blinked quickly a couple of times in angry confusion, and then she took an instinctive step backward. “Gabriel?”
“Do you know what I’m going to do?” He paced closer, his resolve permeating every step. “I’m going to put a halt, even if it’s only temporary, to all the temperament and outrage I’ve had to witness today. I’m going to buy myself a little peace and quiet. I deserve it, you know. I’ve got it coming, and you’re going to give it to me. I am not an adaptable, easygoing sort of man, Samantha,” he went on half-apologetically as he closed the distance between them. “I find that constant upsets in my life tend to make me long for moments of quiet and relaxation. I find I want to reestablish, if only for a short time, some illusion of being in control.”
“Gabriel, I’m warning you, don’t you dare touch me!” She backed another step, sliding toward the hall entrance.
Gabriel read and understood the confusion, astonishment, and anger in her expression. She was spoiling for a fight, and he was going to give her something else entirely. “Do you know the easiest way for a man to regain a feeling of being in control of a woman, Samantha?”
“Don’t you threaten me with those caveman tactics!” she slung back defiantly, edging one step closer to the door.
“I’m not going to call it that. You, naturally, are free to call it anything you choose. One way or another, though, I’m going to restore a little of the natural order around here.”
“We’re supposed to be partners, for God’s sake!”
There was something enormously satisfying about that look in her eyes, Gabriel decided as he slowly closed the distance between them. The wide tortoiseshell gaze reflected the beginnings of feminine wariness, perhaps even genuine fear, and he knew damn well it wasn’t because she was actually afraid of him. That anxious expression reflected another kind of wariness, the kind that told him that what she really feared was her own response when he took her in his arms.
Very sa
tisfying, Gabriel told himself again. He’d never had a woman watch him in quite that way. It fed the primitive side of his nature as nothing else could have done.
Only Samantha had the power to make him forget anyone could ever call him methodical and uninspired. When she looked at him as if she knew damn well she would find herself melting in his arms in a few more minutes, he felt as if he could handle anything, including her.
“Partners, Samantha? Your idea of a partnership is a bit vague, I’m afraid. Partners don’t keep important information from each other. Partners don’t start delicate negotiations on their own, tossing out an entirely different price tag than the one on which said partners had already agreed. Partners don’t try playing dangerous little games of revenge without warning each other.”
“I’ve explained all that. Gabriel, listen to me. I haven’t tried to cheat you in any way.”
“I know that. But you also haven’t tried to be a real partner in this little endeavor, either, and you know it. You had all your private schemes going on the side, and I was just supposed to quietly finance the whole production without asking too many questions. That’s not a partnership, Samantha. That’s you trying to use me.”
Guilt flashed into her eyes, and she bit down hard on her lower lip. “Oh, Gabriel, I’m sorry. I’ve already told you I’m sorry. But, damn it, we’ve been through all of this before. Be honest—if I had laid it all straight out in the open from the start, wouldn’t you have backed away from the deal entirely? I even had to threaten to go to William Oakes. That’s what it took to make you decide to back me. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing out to Oakes!”
He reached her then, dosing his hands around her shoulders just as she made one last futile dive for the doorway. Gabriel held her still, staring intently down into her anxious, upturned face.
“You little idiot,” he rasped, his body already reacting strongly to the feel of her as she stood captive, “do you really believe I’m going through all this just to keep from losing a deal to Oakes? You must be crazier than I thought if you think that’s why I’ve let myself get taken through the mill on this wild scheme of yours.”
