by Penny Jordan
Samantha knew enough of small close-knit communities from her childhood in New England to be aware that sometimes they could be restrictive and even stultifying but... But the pluses were greater than the minuses in the balance sheet of life, at least in her opinion, and the teasing affectionate friendships which she had witnessed existing between her twin and the other members of the Crighton clan were something she couldn’t help contrasting with her own sense of alienation and separateness from her own work colleagues.
They were approaching the airport now, the freeway increasingly busy. What was she like, Liam’s new PR? Intelligent? Sparky? Glamorous? All of those and very probably a whole lot more, Samantha decided. Her father had certainly sounded impressed by her.
Was that why she was experiencing these unfamiliar little tickles of antipathy and this disobliging sense of not wanting to like the other woman? Samantha wondered ruefully.
Liam had parked the car and was opening his door.
‘I’ll get you a trolley,’ he was informing her.
‘For goodness’ sake, Liam,’ she snapped. ‘Stop smothering me. I’m perfectly capable of getting my own trolley. I’m a big girl, remember...’
‘Maybe, but I’m an old-fashioned man,’ he reminded her almost tersely. ‘Wait here...’
‘Wait here!’ Samantha opened her mouth to snap angrily that she would do no such thing but it was too late, he was already striding determinedly to where the baggage carts were stacked.
Typically she discovered when he returned with one, unlike her he had managed to find one that wheeled smoothly and easily.
‘Liam,’ she protested fiercely when he insisted on pushing it for her.
‘What is it with you?’ he demanded grittily. ‘You know your trouble, don’t you, Samantha?’ He answered his own question without allowing her any time to make her own response. ‘You’re afraid of being a woman. You’re afraid of...’
‘I’m no such thing,’ Samantha interrupted him furiously. ‘I...’
‘Yes, you are,’ Liam taunted her. ‘Look at the way you even prefer to be called Sam instead of Samantha.’
‘That’s not because...it’s just easier for people to say...quicker...’
Liam’s eyebrows lifted.
‘Quicker maybe, but nowhere near as sexy.’
‘Sexy!’ She glared at him.
‘Mmm... Samantha...’ He said her name slowly, drawing out each syllable. ‘Samantha is a woman’s name and like a woman should be lingered over and enjoyed the way a man...’
‘Thanks for the psychoanalysis,’ Samantha snapped fiercely, ‘but I’ve got a plane to catch, remember, Liam? So, if you want to do some lingering I suggest you wait until you’ve picked up your new PR. She might be more impressed than...’
‘See, you’re doing it now,’ Liam stopped her softly. ‘What is it you’re really afraid of, Samantha...? I’ll take a guess that it isn’t not being enough of a woman...it’s being too much of one.’
Samantha stared at him, for once completely lost for words. His soft-voiced comment had struck unnervingly close to home, too close... To have someone, anyone, see so deeply and intimately into her most private self was a disturbing enough act on its own, but when that someone was Liam, a man who she had dismissed as someone too prosaic...too practical...too unemotional to...
‘I need to check in,’ she told him, making a grab for the trolley only too relieved to have an excuse for both changing the subject and escaping his presence and her own thoughts.
‘Mmm...’
Instead of relinquishing the trolley handle Liam kept hold of it so that her hands were resting close to the warmth of his and then, before she could guess what he intended to do, Liam moved with surprising swiftness, covering her hands with his own and keeping her captive, his head bending over hers in the same half beat of time that she lifted her face towards him in irritable surprise.
‘Li—’ she began but got no further than the first syllable of his name before his mouth was covering hers.
He had only kissed her very occasionally before, brief non-sexual courtesy kisses on her cheek, and so she was completely unprepared for the reaction the hard determined pressure of his mouth evoked from her now.
Her pulse gave an unexpected shock-cum-thrill little flutter that left her feeling breathless and light-headed. Or was it the increasingly firm pressure of Liam’s mouth that was doing that? An unexpectedly delicious and temptingly enjoyable firm pressure, the kind of firm pressure that made her sigh softly and lean responsively into him, her own lips starting to part on what just might have been a give-away small sound of heady pleasure.
It was, of course, the bright lights of the airport that were making her close her eyes and then open them slowly again to focus hazily and wonderingly on the deep smouldering depths of Liam’s—of course it was. Languorously, Samantha felt her lips soften against his... Mmm...but it was such a lovely kiss, such a sensuous, nerve-skittering, heart-thrillingly sexy kiss that she would have to have been made of stone to resist it.
But...
Abruptly she stiffened, realising just where her thoughts were heading, and firmly she pushed him away.
‘Thank you, Liam,’ she told him sweetly. ‘That was very nice but shouldn’t you be saving it for someone more...appreciative...’
His eyebrows rose as he released her.
‘Much more appreciation and they’d have been hauling us up for indecency,’ Liam drawled back.
‘Indecency...’ Samantha shot him a fiercely indignant look, preparing to do battle, and then stopped, her face flushing as she saw the brief, oh so wryly explicit look he was giving her body.
There was no need of course for her to look down at her T-shirt-clad breasts to see just how tautly erect her nipples now were. She could feel it...them.
‘That’s just—’ she began defensively.
Liam stopped her, shaking his head as he told her dryly, ‘You don’t need to tell me what it is, hon,’ he drawled. ‘In fact—’
‘They’ll be calling my flight,’ Samantha told him, desperate to escape.
She knew her face must be flushed because her body felt hot. Her mind was burning with questions and her instinctive need was simply to escape just as fast as she could, to avoid any kind of confrontation. Not with Liam, no, it was herself she didn’t feel able to confront, her own inexplicable behaviour and reactions. Grabbing hold of the trolley, she started to walk away from Liam as quickly as she could, refusing to give in to the temptation to turn round and see what he was doing—how he was looking.
* * *
THE GIRL AT the check-in desk gave her a calmly professional smile as she checked her travel documents and indicated that Samantha was to put her luggage on the conveyor.
Samantha could feel a prickling sensation running jarringly up and down her spine. She just knew that Liam was still there watching her. Unable to stop herself, she turned round, her mouth opening in a small O of disbelief when she couldn’t see him. He had gone already. Aggrieved she double-checked the area where she had left him, muttering beneath her breath as she did so, ‘Well, thanks very much...’
It was typical of him, of course, to behave in such an outrageously high-handed manner and then simply walk away without any explanation. No doubt if she had asked him for one he would have responded with something unflattering.
The check-in girl was indicating that she was to go through to the departure area. Briefly Samantha hesitated but there was still no sign of Liam. No doubt he was far more interested in meeting this new PR person than he was in seeing her off.
A little forlornly Samantha went through into the departure lounge.
* * *
FROM HIS VANTAGE point, well away from the busy main concourse, Liam watched as Samantha set off on her journey. Kissing her like that h
ad been a mistake and mistakes were something that Liam did not normally allow himself to make. It wasn’t good policy for an ambitious young politician. Ambitious...young... Liam gave a semi self-derisory little smile.
Young he most certainly no longer was—and as for ambitious? Recently he had become increasingly aware that he had absorbed much more from working with Samantha’s father than the mere mechanics, the bare bones of what the governorship of their small state actually involved.
Stephen Miller was a true philanthropist. Someone who genuinely wanted to improve the lot of his fellow men, to raise their expectations of life and their belief in themselves in ways both temporal and secular. A rapport had developed between them which had touched upon the sensitive and idealistic side of Liam’s nature, the Celtic inheritance which believed so strongly in the right of the human race to stand proud and free.
His ambitions now no longer centred on Washington or the personal goal of high office. In stepping into Stephen Miller’s shoes, he would be granted a unique opportunity to build on foundations so secure and true that ultimately they could support a society as near to perfection as man with his inherently flawed nature could ever get. Their health care programme, their record for supporting the more needy, especially the elderly, was already being lauded as a model on which other states should base their own programmes.
Their high school drop-out rate was decreasing every year and one of Liam’s own goals would be to find a means of motivating the less intellectually gifted and of giving them both a sense of self-worth and the respect of others.
Liam didn’t believe in deluding himself. Getting the governorship was but the first very small step in what was going to be a long, testing and arduous journey. There was no space in his life either now or in the foreseeable future for...complications.
Other people might claim that he needed a wife but the kind of wife he had in mind, as he knew very well, the kind of marriage he had in mind, was a carefully organised and businesslike political partnership, a marriage where it was automatically acknowledged that his work would come first.
The cool analytical controlled side of his nature agreed with this, the idealistic, passionate Celtic side did not.
He saw the tiny frown, the quickly hidden forlorn look Samantha gave the empty space where he had been standing before turning and walking away.
He could still vividly remember the impact she had had on him the first time he had seen her. A teenager she might have been, but her burgeoning womanhood had still been there for those with the eyes to see it. She might have been shy and a little awkward, blushingly self-conscious about the crush she had had on him, but he had been all too well aware of the powerful strength of the womanly passion she would ultimately own.
Pride and passion—they were a dangerous combination in any woman, but most especially in one like Samantha, who also had such a strong maternal yearning.
He had seen the look in her eyes as she held other women’s babies, when she played with her twin’s little girl. If her pride and her idealism had been less he suspected that she might, long ago, have settled for a mundane marriage to a man who allowed her to control their relationship whilst she gave the full passion of her love to their children, but Samantha wasn’t like that. There was no way she could ever allow herself to accept second-best. But now the cruel gibes of her work colleagues had galvanised her into action and she was determined to prove him and them wrong.
Liam frowned. It was time for him to go and meet the Washington flight. Samantha had been more on the mark than she knew with her slightly waspish comments about Toni Davis. Ostensibly she was quite simply joining his campaign in a PR capacity, but Liam was no fool. He knew perfectly well that one of the reasons her name had been put forward was because she would make a perfect political wife. Subtle, discreet, content to remain in the background and to exercise her ambitions via her husband, Toni Davis was the complete antithesis to Samantha, who had never learned to fully control her emotions and realise that the best way to do battle for her beliefs was not always the most upfront and open way.
He could hear the Washington flight being announced. As he lifted his arm to look at his watch Liam recognised that the scent wafting from his jacket was Samantha’s.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘SAM...OVER HERE....’
Samantha checked and then waved frantically, her face breaking into a wide beaming smile as she caught sight of Bobbie’s brother-in-law and her cousin, James Crighton, waiting for her on the other side of the airport arrivals barrier.
‘James, what a lovely surprise,’ she cried, hugging him enthusiastically. More than one person stopped to admire the attractive picture they made. James, tall, dark and boyishly good-looking, and Samantha, almost equally as tall and stunningly eye-catching with her golden-blonde hair, their arms wrapped around one another as they kissed with genuine affection.
‘Mmm...’ James murmured appreciatively, a teasing glint in his eyes as Samantha started to disengage herself. ‘That was nice...’
‘Very nice,’ Samantha agreed with laughing playfulness, offering him saucily, ‘Want another...’
Laughter gurgled in her throat at the look that James was giving her. They had always gotten on well together but where she was all quicksilver reactions and emotions, James was far more laid back and calm which she found blissfully soothing.
‘People are watching,’ James warned her as his lips touched hers.
‘Who cares,’ Sam returned recklessly, but he still released her, Samantha noticed. Now Liam would not only have mocked her he would also have deliberately and arrogantly ignored everybody else.
Liam! Why on earth was she thinking about him now? It should be James she was concentrating on. Beneath her lashes she flicked him a considering look. It was easy to dismiss and overlook the attractiveness of James’s smile, the sheer niceness of him, in favour of the spectacularly smouldering sexuality of his cousin Saul, the austere, exciting sensuality of his brother Luke, the sledgehammer onslaught of the outrageous physical appeal of his other cousin Max, but James, in his own way was every bit as special and sexy as the other Crighton men, even if he came across as being rather more gentle, a little less macho and hormonally charged.
Personally she preferred James to the others. His presence was so relaxing and soothing. She loved the calming effect he had on her, so very different from the hostile aggression Liam so often aroused in her. James would make a wonderful father. She could see him now...
‘Bobbie said to apologise for not being able to meet you herself. Francesca’s had a bit of a chesty cough and she didn’t want to leave her.’
‘Oh, poor little girl,’ Samantha instantly sympathised. ‘How is she...? Is she...?’
‘It’s nothing too serious,’ James assured her. ‘It’s just that she’s been a bit fretful.’
‘Well, it’s very kind of you to make time to meet me,’ Samantha thanked him. ‘The last time I spoke to Bobbie she mentioned how busy both you and Luke are.’
‘Mmm... Well, thankfully, since Max joined the chambers the pressure has eased off a little, or at least it was doing but, well, I shouldn’t complain about the fact that we seem to be attracting more briefs than ever. Aarlston-Becker have been placing a considerable amount of work our way via Saul and increasingly I seem to be finding that I’m spending more and more of my time in the Hague involved in lengthy international cases.’
Aarlston-Becker was the multi-national concern with offices in Haslewich, and Saul Crighton, a member of the Haslewich side of the Crighton family through his father Hugh, her own grandmother Ruth’s half-brother, headed the legal team and so it was quite natural that when he needed the expert opinion of a barrister that he should apply to his own family for it.
‘Dad was complaining only the other day about how much the legal profession has changed,’ James con
tinued. ‘Historically, of course, barristers did have specific and special areas of expertise, now these areas have become much more individually defined. We’ve even been talking about taking on a new member of Chambers due to the amount of medical compensation cases we’ve been getting.’
‘Pity I’m not qualified in that field myself,’ Samantha told him doe-eyed.
‘You’re looking for a career move?’ James asked her interestedly.
‘Sort of,’ Samantha responded tongue-in-cheek, her eyes dancing with amusement as she wondered what he would say if she were to tell him in just exactly what direction she was envisaging her career moving and why.
‘Would you mind if we called on my parents on the way back?’ James was asking her as he guided her towards his waiting car.
‘No, not at all,’ Samantha responded promptly.
She had already met James’s parents and the rest of his family on several occasions and had got on well with them.
She knew from Bobbie that they had just moved to a ground-floor apartment in a recently renovated large Victorian house on the banks of the Dee.
‘Henry loves it,’ Bobbie had told Samantha, referring to her father-in-law. ‘He spent hours wrangling with the builders over the quality of workmanship and Pat says that taking charge of the owners association has given him a new lease of life.
‘Luke complains that he can see a lot of his father’s stubbornness in Francesca...’
‘His father’s stubbornness,’ Samantha had repeated drolly, whilst Bobbie had laughed ruefully.
‘Okay, okay, I know, I have my fair share of that particular vice, no need to rub it in. Still, a little toughness won’t do Fran any harm, not if she’s going to follow family tradition and go into the law.’
‘Fran! No way,’ Samantha had told her twin robustly. ‘She’s going to be running the country at the very least.’
