Double Dealing (30 page)

She grinned suddenly. “I never did get the money, you know.”

He looked momentarily startled. “You didn’t? Thorndyke
really did decide to leave his sweet bastard daughter out of his will? I’m
surprised. What did you do? Turn around and run of with some other unacceptable
suitor?”

“I turned the money down. There was a lot of it, too. But it
was worth it … though I certainly don’t expect you to understand.” Did that
condescending little laugh really come from her?

He shook his head in mock dismay. “Still the same impetuous,
go-to-the-wall-over-a-principle Samantha. What an idiot you are,” he added in
amusement. “How have you managed to survive in the real world for the past
three years?”

Her mouth kicked upward again at the corners. “Well, lately
I’ve had a guardian angel. Very useful.”

He frowned, sensing that something besides flippancy lay
behind the remark. “An angel?”

“Umm. Never mind about that, however. Tell me how you plan
to talk me out of fleecing you over that restaurant,” she invited complacently.
“I can’t wait to hear your strategy.”

“You’re so sure I have one?”

“You wouldn’t be here otherwise. You really could afford to
simply pay up and chalk it off to experience, you know. But instead I find you
standing on my doorstep within days of learning who now owns a certain taco
stand in Phoenix. You must have some plans.”

“You seem equally sure they won’t work.”

“They won’t.” She shrugged.

“I’m not going to simply shell out that kind of money to
you, Sam,” he told her gently. “And not because I can’t afford it.”

“But because it would gall you unbearably to succumb to what
is essentially blackmail. Blackmail from someone you once thought you could
control completely. I understand perfectly, Drew. Quite perfectly.”

“You’re awfully sure of yourself. It must have taken you
months of planning to pull off this coup. Were you that badly hurt three years
ago?” He leaned back in his chair, watching her face intently.

“Oh, the pangs of unrequited love died quite quickly, as a
matter of fact,” she told him musingly, thinking about it.

“But the feeling that I’d made a fool out of you didn’t die
so quickly?”

“You always were very perceptive about other people, Drew.
It’s one of the reasons you’re so successful. You know how to strike just the
right notes from them. But you play them for your own pleasure and advantage.
You’re not a very nice man, Drew Buchanan.”

“And you’re hoping that you’re going to teach me a lesson?
Show me the errors of my ways?” he drawled.

“I don’t delude myself that what I’m doing will cause you to
change your ways. I just want you to know that you can’t trample over everyone
and get off scot-free every time. Some of us will fight back, Drew.”

“Because of your pride.” He nodded.

“Something like that. It would be difficult to explain to
you.”

He moved his head in a negative gesture. “No, it’s not. Don’t
you think I understand pride?”

“A man’s pride, perhaps. Not a woman’s,” she told him
simply.

“Is it so very different?”

“It takes a slightly different form in every woman. And it’s
a more flexible thing, I believe.” She smiled. “Some women will banish it
completely for a man, for example.”

“But not you?”

“No, not me.” When you had a woman like Vera Maitland for a
mother, you couldn’t banish pride. Especially not for a man.

“So I’m going to have to pay through the nose to soothe your
ravaged pride,” he concluded with a nod that was entirely too understanding.

“I’m going to make sure you remember the occasion,” she
agreed dryly.

“Where did you get the cash, Sam?” he asked abruptly.

“The cash?”

“That restaurant was purchased for cash. I’m just curious
about where you got that much of it. I understand the asking price was fifty
thousand dollars. If you turned down your father’s money a couple of years ago
and spent the time since you left the Buchanan Group building up a business
from scratch…”

“Your sources are very good.”

“You should know. You used to work for me. You used them,
yourself, quite frequently, as I recall.”

“One of the many things I learned from you,” she agreed
pleasantly, “was how to build an information network. I took that basis of
information and expanded it considerably with a computer. Now I am in the
information business.”

“Yes, I know,” he said, the faintest edge of impatience to
his voice. He’d realized, apparently, that she’d just sidestepped the question.
“As I said, I’m told you’ve been building up your little business, and I
realize what it takes to keep even the smallest of businesses going through the
first two years.”

“Nice to know you still appreciate what the little guy has
to go through struggling to survive these days,” she said conversationally.

“Oh, I do, Sam. I do. Which brings us back to the basic
question. Where did you get the spare cash to buy a fifty-thousand-dollar
restaurant in Phoenix?”

“You don’t really believe I’m going to tell you any more
than I have to in order to complete the deal, do you, Drew?” she demanded
sweetly. “That was another thing I learned from you. Never provide unnecessary
information to the opposition.”

“Are you afraid the information in this case might be used
against you?” he countered swiftly.

“Not at all. I’m just following your own general policy of
not going out of my way to hand out details.” Which was the truth. Gabriel
preferred to keep a low profile simply because that was the way he operated. He
didn’t invite attention. But there really wouldn’t be anything Drew Buchanan
could do even if he did discover that Gabriel Sinclair was her financial
backer. Gabriel was simply involved in a business deal. There was nothing which
could be used against him.

Drew sighed, his eyes momentarily hooded and gleaming with a
malevolent intent he couldn’t quite hide. “It would appear I’m at your mercy.”
He didn’t sound as if he believed it, however, and Samantha took warning.

“So it would appear. Care to write out the check right now?”

“Ah, Sam. You always were impetuous. One doesn’t conduct
deals of this magnitude quite so hastily.”

“Unseemly?” she hazarded brightly.

“Very.”

“How does one conduct them?”

“Over dinner. Will you have dinner with me tonight? For old
times’ sake?”

“I love that charmingly wistful note in your voice. Just the
right touch. God, you are really an incredibly good actor, Drew. Perhaps you
missed your calling after all. Then again, I suppose you find the skill very
useful, don’t you? You’ll find it even more useful as you move into your new
career of politics.”

For the first time she managed to catch him slightly off
guard. He recovered almost instantly. “You really have been paying attention to
my comings and goings during the past few years, haven’t you?”

She shrugged, saying nothing. His association with a
politician named Galloway hadn’t been hard to turn up. The fact that Galloway
had a tremendously effective political machine which he had inherited from his
father had also soon come to light. Buchanan, if he could insinuate himself
into that machine, could probably easily take control of it. After that there
would be little to stop him. It didn’t surprise her that Drew had developed a
taste for power on a large scale. It was bound to come with success. Wasn’t she
herself rather enjoying the feeling of power she had today? Perhaps the stuff
was addictive!

“Dinner, Sam?” he prompted very softly, a husky, deeply
masculine note in his voice.

She had known this was coming, of course. It was obvious
that one of Buchanan’s approaches would be to try a little seduction. After
all, he had been so eminently successful at it three years ago. Men like Drew
who had no reason to question their technique with women tended to mobilize
that sort of approach first. It was the easiest as far as they were concerned.

And she had fully intended to let him try it just for the
satisfaction of stringing him along a little further. Yes, it would be
wonderfully satisfying to laugh at him as he practiced his sophisticated,
superficial sensuality.

So why was she hesitating over the dinner invitation?

Because, she realized with a new, very distant sense of
dismay, thoughts of Gabriel were starting to infiltrate her thinking. Thoughts
of Gabriel and the strange promise he had bound her with were pouring out of
nowhere into her mind. Ridiculous! She wasn’t about to cheat him either out of
his half of the deal or by going to bed with Drew Buchanan. In fact, the last
thought was decidedly unpalatable, almost more so than cheating Gabriel out of
his share of the money would have been! Good God! How far gone was she in her
relationship with Gabriel Sinclair that the notion of sleeping with another man
was deeply abhorrent?

A sense of rising unease stirred in the pit of her stomach.
For the first time since Drew had walked in the door, Samantha began to lose
her sense of being totally in command of herself and the situation.

But she was in charge of both, she reminded herself
fiercely. And she was in no danger of breaking her promise to Gabriel even if
she chose to linger over her victory by having dinner with Buchanan.

She swallowed, unwillingly aware now that what was really
starting to bother her was a distinct feeling that somehow she would be
violating the pledge she had made to Gabriel, that she had already violated it.

Damn it. What was the matter with her? She had done nothing
which required either an explanation or an apology or a sense of guilt. Still,
the first nibbling of panic could be felt at the edge of her mind. What would
Gabriel say if he knew she had dinner with Drew Buchanan tonight? What could he
say? What right would he have to say anything at all? She certainly wasn’t
contemplating actually going to bed with their opponent!

Suddenly Samantha found herself wishing she’d explained her
own, personal motivation in this deal to Gabriel. Things would be so much
simpler now if he knew the full story.

Only he probably would never have agreed to get involved
with her financially if he had known the full story. Catch twenty-two.

Well, shit. It was too complicated to sort out while she sat
here staring at Drew Buchanan’s wryly amused face. She needed to think, and she
couldn’t do that with her enemy here in the house.

“I’m afraid dinner isn’t possible,” she murmured politely. “Even
for old times’ sake. I have other plans.” Like getting out a frozen pizza!

“Plans that are more important than discussing a great sum
of money?” he mocked, and she could have kicked herself. He was choosing to
interpret her refusal to dine with him as cowardice. The dismaying thing was
that he might be right in a way!

She smiled, the expression every hit as false as his own. “Dear
Drew, we both know you have no intention of discussing terms this evening. You
only want to see if you can get me into bed. Frankly, I’ve got more interesting
ways of spending the evening. Why don’t you run along now and let me know for
certain when you’ve decided to make out a check?” She got to her feet as a
means of encouraging him to leave and also because she was beginning to feel
uncomfortably restless. She wanted him out of the house.

But her unexpectedly hasty dismissal must not have fit in
with his plans at all. Another chunk of the facade slipped as he stood up
quickly and reached for her.

“I wonder why I never realized until this week what a little
bitch you are,” he said coldly. His hands bit into her shoulders.

Samantha lifted her head, unflinchingly meeting his icy
expression. “But, Drew, you’re the one who taught me everything I know.”

“And I always knew you didn’t have enough of that
ruthlessness to make it to the top, love.” The polished seducer was back in
charge as he lowered his mouth to take her lips. “You’re soft, Samantha. Baby
soft. Don’t you remember?”

She stood still for a moment beneath the touch of his mouth,
curious to see how different his kiss would be for her now than it had been
three years ago. There was nothing. It was all too contrived, too jadedly
sensuous, too deliberately provocative. There was none of the elemental power
that captured her so easily when Gabriel took her in his arms. And there wasn’t
any indication that Drew was more than superficially involved in the caress.
With Gabriel there was never any doubt but that he was succumbing to the
passion of the moment just as he forced her to surrender to it.

Gabriel. What the hell was she doing standing here in Drew
Buchanan’s arms? Even if the embrace meant nothing, she had no business letting
this man touch her.

A strange kind of panic seized her. The overwhelming need to
free herself of the spurious caress drove her into sudden, wild protest. She
threw up her hands, pressing furiously against Drew’s chest, and at the same
time snapped her head away from his.

“Get out of here, Drew. Don’t bother contacting me again
until you’re ready to sign a check! Get the hell out of my house!”

He had the nerve to smile. It was a slow, cool, satisfied
smile, which told exactly how he was viewing her actions.

“Don’t you trust yourself to even kiss me, baby?” he
murmured smoothly, stroking his fingers along the line of her shoulder. “Are
you so afraid of finding out that the old magic still exists?”

God! He thought she was fighting him because she was
terrified of losing her control. The monumental ego of the man. But none of
that mattered as much as getting him out of her home. She should never have let
him in the front door. It was all wrong. She had violated the spirit if not the
letter of her midnight pact with Gabriel, and the feeling of revulsion was
almost sickening.

“Get out, Drew,” She kept her voice utterly calm, stepping
away from him and striding toward the front door. “Don’t come back. Why don’t
you have one of your assistants contact me for the final details? That way you
won’t have to disturb your busy schedule any further.”