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, and 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.”