Lust on the Rocks

by Dianne Venetta

  As was she. Sam swept to her feet. “If there isn’t anything else, I think I’ll get back to work.” She surveyed the glum expressions hanging from corner to corner. “Gentlemen?”

  “You won’t get it, Sam,” Harry muttered, followed by a round of grumbling from his cohorts.

  “Watch me.”

  Sam swore she heard the word bitch escape from beneath his breath, but she cared little. He was the one stewing, not her. She left the room, Diego and Vic following her out into the conference lobby. Once free and clear of their guests, Sam whirled around.

  Both men stopped short.

  “Get ready. We’re going to trial.”

  “As planned,” Diego replied with a winning smile.

  The voices emerging from the conference room jolted her to life. “Vic, do you have a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  His smile was eager which made her feel like a heel, but it was now or never. Her adrenaline was running high and her nerve was on the move.

  “I’m out of here,” Diego said, and gave a pat to Vic’s shoulder. “Keep your head up. We’re on the home stretch now.”

  But his morale-boosting smile was unnecessary. Vic understood the significance of a win more than anyone. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  Sam avoided joining in as the camaraderie of their exchange only made what she was about to do more difficult. Once satisfied they were finished, she turned and headed for her office, Vic right by her side.

  “You really handed Goldman his ass on a silver platter back there.”

  “Yes,” she replied, keeping contact to a minimum. “Well, it was nothing less than he deserved.”

  “Hey, you hungry?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No. Actually have a lot of work to do,” she lied, her throat becoming uncomfortably dry. Damn it this wasn’t going to be as easy.

  “Anything I can help you with?” Vic asked, the pitch of his voice suggesting he believed yes.

  Sam’s nerve started to unravel as she rounded the corner to her office. Like the clearest of epiphanies handed down from The Universe, she realized this wasn’t going to go well. Why she ever thought it would, suddenly escaped her. She stopped before her desk and turned to face him. It may even get ugly.

  “What’s up?” he asked, dark brown eyes teeming with warm affection.

  God, but she found him attractive. The strong line of his brow, the chiseled edge of his jaw, she found Vic Marin striking. And big. Together in the enclosed space, she caught drift of his cologne and it felt like a lead weight had just been tied around her neck. Could she really do this? “Vic,” she said, cursing the faint crack to her voice.

  “Sam,” he said and closed the distance between them. “What’s wrong?” His eyes moved back and forth across hers giving her no room to evade his question. “What gives?”

  She gulped. “Nothing gives…”

  Breaking his usual rules for office decorum, he reached for her hands and took them into his own.

  Her insides shredded.

  “Is there a problem? Something going wrong with the case?”

  “No, no, it’s not the case—”

  “Then what?”

  Sam’s throat locked, coarse and dry. So much for guts and gung-ho decision-making.

  “Talk to me,” he commanded and she felt the full force of disquiet beneath his voice. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  Fear seeped into her heart. “I think we need some space.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Was she serious? Vic’s pulse thumped between his ears. A thousand doubts and fears swept through him in a rush of disbelief as he searched her gaze for reason. “What do you mean, space?” he asked, the mere word causing a bitter taste in this mouth.

  “Spending time with Jess…” Her gaze dodged to the left. “I realized some things.” Tentatively, she returned to face him directly. “I realized how different we are. How really very different... And I can’t ignore…” Sam’s eyes shot toward the ceiling. “Our differences.”

  Vic experienced a burst of hope. She was feeling insecure about the two of them is all—something he could fix. “Sam,” he gave her hands a firm squeeze. “We have no differences. We’re two of a kind, we’re meant for each other.”

  But incredibly, she shook her head.

  His chest squeezed and he tried to laugh. “But we are. We’re perfect together.”

  “Perfect?” She gaped at him. “How can you say that?”

  “Because we are. We’re made for each other, Sam.”

  “That’s not how it felt when we discussed Jess’ pregnancy.”

  The comment caught him on the chin. So this was about their difference of opinion regarding the pregnancy? “Sam, the fact that we disagreed on how best to handle her particular situation doesn’t mean we’re not right for each other.” His heart pounded as he ushered forth a smile of reassurance. “It simply means we have to work toward compromise.”

  “How do you compromise your Catholic moral values, Vic?”

  Ouch. “Is that what this is about? My morals?”

  “Well? It’s a valid point, isn’t it?”

  To disagree with Sam right now would be stupid. Staring into the eyes of the woman he loved, he sensed she was pushing him. But why? So that he would change his opinion? So he would walk away? His breathing grew shallow. Or so that she could?

  Neither goal worked for him. He wasn’t about to let her go, not when he’d just found her. He expelled his breath and said, “Yes, it’s a valid point. But it’s not a decisive one.”

  “Word play,” she retorted.

  “Words matter,” he returned. “Like the words I love you.” Startled by the pull of her slender hands from his grasp, he asked, “Doesn’t that matter to you?”

  “Of course it does, I just—”

  “What Sam? What do you want? What do you need?” He’d give it to her. Whatever it was, Vic knew without a doubt that he’d give it to her. Because she had already given him everything he could ever want.

  Sam walked away from him. She walked around her desk and stood on the other side, a move that felt like she had purposely placed a barrier between them. She hugged her sides and rather than look at him, settled her gaze upon the red leather lounge couch in the corner. Tears shone in her eyes. Dismay filled his heart. Why should that bother her?

  “Getting involved with you…”

  Vic’s chest tightened. Please don’t say it was a mistake.

  “It’s not right for me. It’s not what’s best for my lifestyle and I think we should consider a slow down.”

  She was talking in circles, damn it—in code—and it wasn’t like her. He stepped forward. “I don’t understand, Sam.”

  Sam dragged her gaze from the furniture and faced him. “We don’t want the same things, Vic.”

  “Of course we do, beginning with Perry, then Scaliano—we’re on the same side and it feels good. You said so yourself.”

  “I’m not talking about work.”

  “How much better can it get?” Vic tried to smile but there was no pleasure to be found in this conversation. Actually, his gut told him quite the opposite.

  “Relationships aren’t my thing. I don’t do steady and stable.”

  His heart slammed to a stop. “Is there someone else?”

  Sam unwound her arms and exclaimed, “God no—it’s nothing like that! Vic, I swear, there’s no one else in my life but you.” She hesitated, as if unsure how to continue. “I love you,” she said quietly. “That’s true.”

  “That’s all I need to know,” he said, and moved toward her.

  “But I want to take a break from us.”

  Vic froze mid-stride. “What? Why?”

  “Because I think it’s the right thing to do,” she stammered, growing visibly upset.

  “You don’t mean that.”

  She shrugged her shoulders in an obscenely inadequate gesture of explanation. “I do.”

  H
e wanted to shake some sense into her. Make her see how perfect they were together. What a great team they made, at the office and at home. Sam was one of a kind. There was no other woman for him, but her. “Whatever I’ve done, I can fix it.”

  Sam regarded him with a cast of deep regret. “I can’t.”

  “But I need you, Sam.” His heart began to race as her intention settled in. She meant it. She was calling it quits. “But I don’t get it. What happened? What changed?”

  Sam remained mute.

  “Sam, you’re not some flash in the pan—I care about you.” He plunged ahead and fought the crazy sense he was in the midst of a bad dream, “I love you.”

  “It’s not that easy,” she said and raised a shaky finger to the tears catching in her mascara.

  “Of course it’s that easy,” Vic said, bothered by the bluish hollows beneath her eyes. They made her appear fragile, vulnerable. “It’s exactly that easy,” he repeated, willing her to listen.

  “No,” she murmured. “It isn’t.”

  “The hell it isn’t!”

  “I told you, it has to do with things I realized while Jess was here. Important things and I shouldn’t have allowed us to continue.”

  “This isn’t about my morals,” Vic stated. And though she seemed surprised by his direct statement, she didn’t deny it. “This is about something else.”

  “I want some time.”

  “Time? As in, maybe later we’ll get back together? Or time,” he ground his jaw, “as in some excuse to give me now.”

  “Vic.”

  “Sam.” If she wanted to break up with him, he expected her to do so. Direct and to the point as was her style. Dancing around the subject for the next few weeks wouldn’t help either one of them. “If you’re uncertain about things, we’ll take it slow. I can do slow. But if this is the end…” The last thing he wanted, then damn it she was going to have to say the words.

  Even if he couldn’t bring himself to say the same.

  When Sam refused to elaborate, Vic wanted to shout, he wanted to roar. How could she just walk away? Visions of last night permeated his thoughts, their kiss this morning before they left for work. Despite the dreary rain, it was warm and luscious, like the rest of her body. How could she end it so abruptly?

  Sam gave a nod to her head and Vic felt something inside her close. A lever had been pulled, and the floor dropped from beneath him. Cold realization coated his body. Outside the sun shone warm and bright but inside the air was icy and distant. Sam was done. Claws dug into his heart. The woman he loved, the woman he believed impossible to find was suddenly letting go and taking his every chance for happiness right along with her. “Don’t Sam. Don’t do this to me.”

  But she didn’t move.

  When she bowed her head, every fantasy of happiness Vic had ventured to entertain over the last few weeks, every hope he began to sustain took a nosedive. Disbelief warred with confusion and want as his heart crashed to the ground—hard. They were over.

  Vic walked into his apartment only to be met by four walls of deafening silence. Tossing briefcase and keys onto the couch he went straight for the kitchen. He needed a drink. Whipping open the stainless steel door he thought, no—he needed Sam, damn it. Grabbing a beer, he popped the top and flung the aluminum cap onto the counter. It ricocheted off the backsplash before landing on the floor. Whatever. He chugged from the can, then stared at the discarded silver ring. He’d get it later.

  Vic strode to the living room and thought briefly about sitting, but couldn’t. His nerves were running full sprint. Sam had broken up with him. Dumped him, just like that. He threw back another swallow of beer, the tangy flow biting as it went down his throat. He stared out the window, at the massive trees with orange-red flowers, the Spanish red-tiled rooftops as far as the eye could see, the last rays of sunlight baking tan-colored walls to a golden yellow. Coral Gables was a beautiful city, totally different than Philadelphia but one he was beginning to like.

  Turning, he took in the contents of his home. His place. To call this apartment, this blank canvas of walls and floors a home was an insult to the meaning of the word. A home was where you shared your life with family and friends, the place you looked forward to returning after a hard day at work because it held the promise of relaxation, of rejuvenation. But this place was devoid of color, of anything meaningful to him.

  Suddenly overwhelmed by the emptiness of his apartment, Vic’s swigged from his beer and thought back to why. Why was it empty? Because when he moved to Miami, he hadn’t been looking to stay. He hadn’t hung the first picture or placed the first memento, save for the photo of his parents on his bureau. He hadn’t been interested in adding any personal touches, the primary reason obvious. He planned on returning to Philly when he finished with Scaliano.

  Vic moved his gaze to the stack of U-haul boxes and longing jabbed in his side. The secondary reason was far more complicated. He’d been at Sam’s. Making love in her high-rise, enjoying views of the water, her naked body... Hell, his apartment was the last place he wanted to be! Add trial prep for Perry and he’d been too preoccupied to bother with the details of unpacking and getting settled in. Much like now. His gut tightened. Packing and moving out was the last thing he wanted to do.

  Closing his eyes, he saw her, vivid and real, as lifelike as if she were standing beside him. Samantha Rawlings. Sam. Hair a fiery red-brown, eyes bold and intense. Whether she was at the office or in his arms, her body moved like a flame, hot with purpose, fluid with passion. He imagined her naked, arched back in pleasure mode as he feasted on her body before she did the same to him. From the touch of her skin, to the skill of her hand, she could tease him with a smile, or taunt him with a kiss.

  His loins reacted in mild spasm. Sam was all woman with an insatiable, murderous ability to please. One he wanted to match move for move, beat for beat. One he wanted to love, day by day, night by night. From the sunshine in her smile to the sharp wit of her tongue, Vic wanted to spend his life with Sam. An ache filled his heart. Opening his eyes, he peered at his open, elegant and empty apartment. There was no other woman for him. Never would be.

  They’d all pale by comparison.

  Vic thought back to last night and savored the images and sensations pouring through his imagination. Waking up to the rain, his first thought had been sex. A smile pulled at him and he took a sip from his beer. Nothing better than time spent in the warm arms of a woman when it was wet and rainy outside. To him, the constant whip of wind and thunder only enhanced the mood. Need began to throb as he thought of her, the woman who consumed his nights, challenged his days. She was a combination of smart and sexy that was hard to find. He liked her in the bedroom and out. Her sense of humor, her energy... Add her ambition and laser-focused drive to be the best and he damn well loved everything about her.

  Everything, he rued. Vic expelled a sigh. But now memories were all he had left. Too bad his mind was amazing in its visualization, uncanny in its sense of recall. He could practically feel her...smell her... He could practically taste her.

  Loneliness sunk deep into his soul. The thought of being without Sam felt like a vise-grip around his heart. He couldn’t imagine not ever touching her again, kissing her again, murmuring how much he loved her. It felt too good to connect with a woman that way. It made him feel alive, energized. But what he’d miss the most was the way she could melt him with a whisper. Like this morning when they kissed. Strong and confident, Sam could surrender to sweet and feminine in a heartbeat and become vulnerable to his mere touch. It was a feat that made him feel like the most powerful man alive. A feeling he wanted to resume. A love he wanted to keep.

  But as he stood alone, reality slowly siphoned his dreams and emptied his heart. Perry was about to begin and once it was over, they’d go after Scaliano. How was he going to stand being near her through it all, yet know there was a wall between them? He dropped his gaze to the polished wood floors. Where was he going to go when the trials ended?

/>   That was the bigger question. Once his work was completed here in Miami, Vic realized he didn’t want to return home to Philly because it made no sense. In his heart, he was home.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Sam had less than a week to go. Working around the clock, she’d virtually sequestered herself within the confines of her office to probe through case files. Showing up for court without first submitting her facts to a “pat-down” was not going to happen. She was looking for any holes, any weak spots, anything that may jump out at her and today, did so from the vantage point of her red leather chaise.

  And it felt good. Good to be back in her space, in her element. Outside the sky floated a few patchy clouds but inside, it was clear and bright. Elegant blue upholstery, polished brass fixtures, shiny wood furniture—this is where she belonged. She needed to set fire to the facts in her court case, not burn up the sheets in the arms of a lover. An image of Vic’s naked body popped into the forefront of her mind’s eye. Even if it was some of the best sheet-time she’d ever had—didn’t matter. It was proving unproductive and that’s where it failed. It was a distraction. Certainly a sexy one, but a distraction none-theless.

  Stop. She shook the thoughts from her brain. This was the very reason she wasn’t working from home. There were too many reminders, too many images. Sam wrestled her mind back to the file in hand. Thumbing through pages, she looked for her notes regarding opening argument. A sudden vision of Vic standing over her giving her a hard time about losing focus because of him interrupted her search. “Damn it, where are they?”

  Sam kicked her feet off the end of the chair and swung them around to sit upright. She leafed through the entire contents of the folder then slapped it closed on her lap. “What the hell did I do with them?” No sooner had she said it than she spotted them on her desk. Nice and neat, the canary yellow sheets were lined up side by side with her closing arguments. “Of course they’re right where I put them this morning.” Sam shook her head. Same as she did for every case, she set them side by side for comparison.