Double Dealing (4 page)

Samantha winced, remembering. “My first experience with a
spa, I’m afraid. I simply wasn’t prepared for what I got. I had read this
wonderful article about these places in a fashion magazine a couple of weeks
ago. ‘A time of cleansing for the body and the mind’ or some such garbage, I
believe was the exact quote.” Samantha shook her head in baffled wonder. “Maybe
you Californians need Miss Carson and her friends to cleanse the body and mind,
but personally, I don’t have the stamina for it. I’ve been here twenty-four
hours, and already I’m exhausted. Also starving to death,” she tacked on with
feeling. “I must thank you for rescuing me, even if you didn’t choose the most
gallant method!” She fixed him with a deliberately charming smile.

Gabriel stared at the smile for a moment, as if that, too,
had to be assessed and pigeonholed. Then he nodded once. “If it’s any
consolation, I surprised myself as much as you. I’m not normally the impulsive
type.”

“No, I don’t imagine you are,” she managed lightly. “What
type are you, Mr. Sinclair?”

“Merely a businessman. Like your father, I imagine. How does
he tolerate your mother’s passion for causes, by the way?”

Samantha went still, the charming smile tightening into a
cool, too-civil line as she began to realize how very many questions Gabriel
Sinclair was inclined to ask. She had already revealed more about herself than
she had ever intended. It wasn’t that she particularly cared if he knew about
her background, she told herself, it was simply that the matter was largely
irrelevant to the issue at hand. “My father’s tolerance for Vera’s passions was
not a problem. My parents were never married, Mr. Sinclair,” she stated very
neutrally. “He had no say in what she chose to do.”

There was a pause, and then Gabriel probed carefully.

“You speak of him in the past tense. Your father is dead?”

“My father was several years older than my mother. He died
two years ago in his late seventies.”

Sinclair must have finally sensed her desire to close the
discussion about her parents because he acceded politely to the firm tone of
her words. For a long moment they continued to sip their tea in silence, each
waiting for the other to establish the new direction of the conversation. There
was really only one other topic that was appropriate, of course, and Samantha
realized that Sinclair was going to let her be the one to bring up the business
between them. It was a subtle but effective method of telling her silently that
he wasn’t dying of eagerness to hear the details, she decided wryly. Had
Gabriel Sinclair ever been overly eager or enthused about anything in his
entire life, she wondered.

In the small, quiet space of time it took her to marshal her
thoughts, Samantha took a moment to analyze the man opposite her. The impression
of solid, even stolid presence which she’d had from first sight of him was
stronger than ever. But now she had time to note other details. The
conservatively cut hair was a deep, dark shade of mahogany, a shade repeated in
the heavy eyebrows. The hazel eyes were as politely unreadable now as they had
been earlier in the spa room, but there was no doubting the intelligence behind
them. She had the feeling that his smiles would be infrequent and would rarely
reach those assessing eyes. The clothes were casual, but they, too, were
conservative, considering the fact that he was a Californian. A button-down oxford
cloth shirt worn open at the throat and subdued slacks clasped with an
unadorned leather belt went with the quietly styled jacket she’d “borrowed”
earlier.

A conservative, cautious man in all things, she thought in
fleeting frustration. Why couldn’t he have been more like herself? Matters
would have been so much easier.

“About that note I sent you,” Samantha finally said, taking
the plunge. “I assume from your presence here at the spa that you’re interested
in what I have to say?”

Gabriel shifted his glance briefly from her face to the small
garden and back again. “I wouldn’t say that I’m particularly interested in
doing business with you, Miss Maitland, but I will admit to a certain
curiosity.”

Samantha resisted the impulse to clench her teeth. Getting a
commitment out of this man was going to be difficult. And she had so little
time.

But what had she expected? Men like this did not automatically
grab at every deal that was offered. She had been hoping, though, that the bait
she had used in this particular instance would give her an edge on gaining his
agreement. It struck Samantha as she watched his profile that Gabriel Sinclair’s
physical solidity had an intellectual counterpart. He would not jump into anything,
nor would he be pushed. But he had an ego, she reminded herself. Every man had
an ego, and it was invariably his weakness. Which did not mean that he would
understand or sympathize with her own weaknesses, so she must maintain the
strictly business facade. He must never suspect for a moment that her
motivation stemmed from an emotion as dangerously unpredictable as revenge.
Nothing would have been more likely to make such a man shy away from this deal.

“As I explained to you in my note,” she began industriously.

“Your cryptic note.” Why did he have to harp on that?

“If it was a bit,
er
,
cryptic-sounding, I expect it was because I was in something of a hurry,” she
apologized airily.

“It was cryptic because you were trying to interest me in
the deal without giving too much information away at the beginning,” he
corrected softly, hazel eyes gleaming.

“Perhaps,” she conceded with a shrug and then smiled engagingly.
“Whatever my motives, you’re here.”

“Don’t congratulate yourself yet,” he advised blandly. “I
have a great many questions which I would like answered.”

I’ll just bet you do,
Samantha thought grimly. Outwardly she maintained the smile. “Of course you
have questions. And I shall be more than happy to answer them.” Damn it, he was
interested. He had to be interested or he would never have bothered to turn up at
the spa, seeking her, Samantha assured herself, trying at the same time to
stifle the rush of excitement which was bubbling up inside. She must not get in
a rush and ruin everything through her own eagerness. But it was so difficult
to be calm and businesslike when she was so close to the end. So many months of
careful planning and investigation were nearing the finish line, and she could
destroy all her own efforts by letting the hopeful exhilaration show. She just
knew that kind of enthusiasm would make this plodding financial angel take
wing. Samantha’s fingers clenched around the handle of the teacup in her hand
as she forced herself to remain cool and restrained in front of Sinclair.
Everything depended on handling this man properly.

“First, I would like to know a little more about your business,
Samantha. I may call you Samantha?”

“By all means,” she hastened to assure him, smiling brilliantly.

He blinked with decided wariness under the flash of the
smile, and she instantly modified it into a polite, tempered expression.
Gabriel poured himself another cup of tea and met her eyes deliberately. “What
does Business Intelligence, Incorporated actually do?”

“Oh, I’m a sort of information broker,” she explained, resigning
herself to the fact that this man would do everything in a prudent,
step-by-step fashion, attending to each detail in turn. There would be no
hurrying him. Would he make love to a woman in the same deliberate fashion? she
found herself wondering with a flash of inner humor. She could just picture him
in bed, going step-by-step through the procedures outlined in a sex instruction
manual. “While kissing left breast, locate sensitive area of partner’s inner
thigh and massage slowly. After three minutes repeat, alternating to right
breast and left thigh.”

Brushing aside the image, Samantha hurried into a further
description of her work. “I supply my subscribers with news and information
which might affect their businesses. Sort of a glorified librarian. Through a
computer I can collect a huge amount of information and process it down to a
manageable level. It’s like being paid to sift through
Forbes, The Wall Street Journal
, and
Business Week
with a yellow highlighter and a pair of scissors,”
she summarized.

“Your system is computerized?” he demanded, frowning slightly.

She nodded quickly, wanting to get of the subject and on to
more important things. “There are literally hundreds of computerized
information retrieval services that anyone with a good home computer can
subscribe to. Indexes to all the major newspapers, for instance, lists of
research being done in almost any field you can imagine. Analyses of stock
market activity that go back to the beginnings of the exchange…. And a lot of other miscellaneous information,”
she added with deliberate vagueness as she realized the direction of his questioning.

“The sort of miscellaneous information that helped you track
me down?” Gabriel drawled with far too much perception.

There was no point denying it. “Yes, as a matter of fact,”
she admitted with a cool smile. “That sort of miscellaneous information. But if
it’s any consolation to you, there was very little to be had on you, Gabriel.”

“Just enough to make you guess I might be interested in a
deal involving the Buchanan Group?”

“Just enough.” Samantha felt as if she were walking on eggs.
“Was I right?” she finally dared to breathe after a moment.

“I will have to know a great deal more before I can give you
that answer. Tell me about this real estate venture you’re trying to involve me
in,” he instructed calmly.

Samantha took a deep breath and crushed down her disappointment.
“It has to do with a site assembly project which is currently underway in
Phoenix for the Buchanan Group’s latest development.”

“Buchanan is picking up properties in Phoenix? How did you
find out about that?” They both knew that Buchanan and others like him usually
stayed well hidden while their people quietly acquired the individual parcels
needed for a development. Once the individual owners who occupied the
properties realized just how important their particular hunks of land might be
they were more than likely to ask an astronomical price.

“Of course he tries to keep his company’s name out of sight,”
Samantha replied with a small grin. “Even one holdout owner can ruin a
multimillion-dollar deal if the land he’s sitting on is needed for the
development.”

“I think I’m beginning to get the drift,” Gabriel murmured. “You
haven’t answered my question, though. How did you find out Buchanan was
involved in an assembly project?”

Questions, questions, questions! Didn’t the man ever just
jump ahead to the important things without climbing each individual step along
the way? Samantha closed her eyes briefly, taking a tight rein on her own
restless anticipation.

“Buchanan is well hidden on this project, as usual,” she
said in what she hoped was a sedate tone. “I would never have found out about
his plans if a few odds and ends of minor information hadn’t cropped up in a
couple of the data bases I routinely monitor.” She saw no point in telling
Gabriel that she automatically devoted a portion of her time each week to
searching for any and all information on the Buchanan Group. It would be difficult
to explain, in light of the fact that the company was not among her subscribing
clients. Fed even a small tidbit like that, a man like Sinclair would
immediately start sniffing around for further information, and Samantha had no
intention of explaining her personal interest in Drew Buchanan.

“So”—Gabriel sat back and gazed at her interestedly— “You
managed to discover that a secret assembly project was underway. And then?”

“I’m sure you’ve already guessed the rest,” Samantha said demurely,
sipping tea. “I quietly went in and picked up an option on a little restaurant
situated right in the middle of the area Buchanan needs. That was several
months ago, after I’d determined the general area of Phoenix that Buchanan’s
people were working in.”

“I see.”

She could read nothing in his stolid words. Resolutely Samantha
continued. “Buchanan’s real estate people have begun to move. Quietly, of
course. They’re using a variety of dummy corporations and a lot of different
attorneys and real estate brokers to cover up who is doing the buying, but the
buying has started.”

“But as far as the general populace of Phoenix is concerned,
what’s taking place are simply a bunch of small, individual real estate deals.
No one knows one developer is behind all of them.”

“Nope. Except you and me,” she said cheerfully. “Only we
know how absolutely crucial that little restaurant is going to be. Without that
piece of property a major development project which has been on the drawing boards
for at least two years will have to be canceled. I can’t see Buchanan letting
his plans for downtown Phoenix be frustrated by one tiny Mexican restaurant.”

“You’re going to wait until he’s bought up almost everything
and then confront him with a ridiculously high price tag?”

“Ridiculously high,” she agreed happily.

“But you need me,” Gabriel pointed out softly.

“I’m afraid so.” She sighed.

“Because your time is running out on the option for the
restaurant, right? You need cash and a lot of it to close the deal with the
present owner?”

Samantha raised one eyebrow above the frames of her glasses.
“I need a financial angel to help me close the deal. I simply don’t have access
to the kind of cash or credit it will take to buy a restaurant. As a
professional venture capitalist, you do. You make your living by financing
ventures like this one.”

“You think Buchanan’s people will pay your asking price
rather than wreck the whole project?”

“Of course. They’re committed financially to the development
project. They can’t back out now, not without losing a tremendous amount of
money, far more than I’ll be charging for that damn restaurant!”