Seduction’s Canvas (Crimson Romance) (18 page)

Sam watched Blake’s eyes go hard for a second and then he stretched his mouth wide, going into a booming laugh. “Oh, Sam, that’s what I like about you. You don’t take any bull. It’s what I always told your father. That Sam can hold her own. I wish he’d have let me steal you way back when. I’d surely have a spot for you in my company.”

Sam was stunned. Mr. Blake had thought of stealing her and for something besides a new young bed partner? She frowned. “Steal me for what?”

Blake took a sip of the liquor he was holding. “Why to work for me, of course. A mind like yours could do great things. I remember the work you did for your father back in the day, before … ” Blake paused and his eyes clouded over as Sam felt a familiar knot form in her stomach. She looked down at her champagne glass. “Well, that was a long time ago,” he continued. “Hey, I hear you’re painting now, kiddo. That’s great too.”

Sam looked up and forced a smile, fighting to compose herself. She had to. She’d only been at this party for two minutes and already her past was coming up to bite her in the ass. “Yes, I am. I’ll have to send you an invitation to my show.”

Thankfully she was saved when Blake’s twenty-five-year-old third wife swooped in with eyes of fire that matched her low cut red dress, designed to show off her surgically enhanced bosom. She wrapped a long taloned, manicured hand possessively around Blake’s arm and Sam could have sworn she would have wrapped her legs around him too if she could have.

“Hello, Charity. You’re looking lovely tonight.”

To that Charity stuck out her chest even further and sidled a little closer to Blake. “Thanks. I was afraid it was a bit too conservative.”

Sam coughed, choking back her laugh. “I can see that. Your restraint is commendable.”

“Now, Sam, play nice. Don’t go making me take back my offer,” Blake chided.

Sam laughed and gave him a kiss on the cheek, ignoring Charity’s simmering ire. “You’re sweet, Uncle Blake, but that’s not my life anymore.”

“What’s not your life anymore?” Sam turned to the sound of Peter’s voice as he smoothly came in behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Looking for me?”

Sam had no choice but to lean in too. “As a matter of fact I was. Where did you get off to?”

“Your mother pulled me over to speak with Judge Matthews. I’m sorry I was gone so long.”

Sam pulled a face. “Knowing the judge, I’m sorry I didn’t come to rescue you.”

Peter smiled at her and for a moment she got a flash of how easy it could be with him in these situations. Sam blinked. There was a cough over to her right and she looked up. “Oh, sorry. Robert Blake, this is Peter Moss. Peter is — ” But Peter cut her off, sticking out his hand quickly.

“No need, Sam, Mr. Blake needs no introduction nor does his beautiful wife here.” To Peter’s lowered voice and smooth charm, Charity preened, so much so that Sam thought her breasts actually grew a cup size and might just pop out of the dress. How did she do that?

But Blake didn’t seem to mind and really, neither did Sam. Blake was intent on giving Peter a proper assessing as he reached out and took the younger man’s hand and held it.

“So you know our Sammy here long?”

Peter seemed to bristle for a moment at Blake’s familiarity, but he recovered. “I do. We’ve been going in the same circles for a while.”

Blake narrowed his eyes on Peter, then gave a small shrug as he pulled away. “Funny. Guess I’m not as up on what the young ones are doing as I thought,” he said. “Thought I knew all the circles in this town and I don’t really know yours.”

Sam noticed Peter harden at that too; it was just for a moment as he stared into Blake’s eyes for one moment and then another, before he visibly relaxed. “My set are the rising stars. Completely on the come up.”

Blake didn’t move, he just looked Peter over in a game of chicken Sam had seen her father do plenty of times. Finally he blinked and turned to Charity giving her ample behind a pat. “Seems we’ve got to stop staying in and get out more, darlin’.” He added a squeeze to that pat and Charity giggled. It was a loud hiccupy kind of thing that pinged throughout the room, seeming to bounce off all the sparkling wine glasses. The final hic came just in time for Liv Leighton to shoot her a look of complete contempt as she came over with Sam’s father in tow.

“Really, dear. Can we not use our indoor voices?”

Charity, not one to let a dig like that pass, swiftly turned on Liv, boobs first. “I’m sorry, is this a library? It is hard to tell the difference.”

Not used to being questioned, especially not in her own home, Liv recoiled clutching her pearls.

“Now, now sweetie. You remember Howard’s wife, Livie,” Blake piped up, trying to get a hold of his temperamental young charge.

Charity looked Liv up and down as if she was nothing more than dirt on her new stripper heels and turned to Sam’s dad, headlights beaming. “Howard, of course. We met when you visited Blakie in the Hamptons.”

That was it. Sam wasn’t about to take some bimbo on the come up dissing her mom. “So you’ve seen the inside of many libraries have you, Charity? Or was it the reading room of the local strip club?”

“Samara!” Liv scolded as Blake coughed in his scotch and Howard’s brows shot up and he shook his head. Sam felt Peter’s cool hand on her lower back and she stepped forward. Out of his reach.

“Sam,” her father warned. But Blake burst out laughing as he tightened a warning hand on his wife’s waist.

“Oh, it’s all good, Howard. She’s just being Sam, showing that Leighton spirit. Gotta always watch out for family, ain’t that right, Sam.” He then turned to her father. “It’s just like I was telling her. She’s a tough one. She would be great uptown on that Hamilton Heights Project.”

Sam frowned. “What project?”

Howard turned to her with a sharp look. “Oh, Sammy, it’s nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about. Just some trouble we’re having getting a property we want in the Heights. A few hold outs that won’t budge.”

Sam let out a long breath and shifted her eyes between both men, crossing her arms. “First off, call it what it is. You mean Harlem. What is this Hamilton Heights bull? I’m guessing that by calling it that, you must want to move the tenants out and they’re giving you holy hell, as they should for being displaced from their homes. For that, I don’t see how I can help.”

Blake let out a snort. “I told you she was shrewd.”

“Yeah, that ain’t the half of it,” Howard said. “And for your information, Miss Smartypants, we are offering very good buyouts and ground floor prices on brand new luxury properties in Rockland.”

It was Sam’s turn to snort. A mirror image of her father. “Well la-di-freaking-da.”

“Samara!” her mother chimed in once again. This time Sam chose not to hear her.

“As if any true New Yorker wants to give up their prime New York space just for what? A prefab with power tub jets and a walk-in closet in the boonies? What if they work in the city and have to commute? The cost of that alone is a killer.” Suddenly Sam was waving her hands and she felt a flush come to her cheeks.

Her father shook his head. “I can’t worry about everything. I have to look out for the bottom line and what’s right for the company.”

“And what’s right for the company is moving New Yorkers out of the only home they know?”

“We are looking at constructing one of the premiere residences in Harlem. Waterfront views, full time concierge, twenty-four hour gym and spa, restaurant, and club.”

“Ah-hem,” Peter said from over her shoulder. “Would you already have contract on the club?”

Sam turned and shot Peter a look of pure venom.

“What? Sam. You have to admit it sounds fantastic and your father is never wrong when it comes to real estate.”

“Alright, all of you, this has gone on long enough and the last thing we need is airing out business in the middle of a party,” Liv said with a clap of her hands.

She then shot the ever aware Tanner who was over by the dining room doors a look and pasted on the Leighton smile before tapping her champagne glass three times. “Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served. Follow me into the dining room. And for heaven sake, don’t anyone dare sit with the person you came with. She gave Charity a saucy look. “You, dear, go and sit by the judge. Trust me, there’s not a hint of library in him.”

• • •

“So what is it now, Sam?” Peter pulled away from their kiss in the back of the car and licked his lips. In that moment, the leftover coolness at his pulling away was not unwelcome. His kiss was fine. There was nothing wrong with it. He was firm and thorough and attentive and what could she say? Well practiced. If she was scoring, she’d have to give him a seven out of ten with room for improvement. And yes, that put her in the complete bitch category and she knew it. She also knew she couldn’t help it.

“It’s nothing, tonight was great. Thanks for coming with me and putting up with my family.”

He gave her dark hooded eyes and smiled. “It was a good night, wasn’t it. I think your father really warmed up to me tonight. Even more so than when we were out on the golf course. And meeting Mr. Blake was big. You know he gave me his card? I’ve been trying to get in with him for a while. And did you know that I was seated by Senator Davis’s wife? A little handsy, but it’s all good. The senator has some major connections.”

Peter continued, pulling out his phone. “Just a minute, hon. I need to check my calendar. You think you can do lunch with me and DA Shelton and his wife next week? He hinted at it and I think it would be a really good look for us.”

Sam pulled back. When had she and Peter become a couple that went for lunches with the DA and his wife? She shook her head, closed her eyes, and leaned her head back. She knew this was a mistake. Give her parents an inch and they take a mile.

Peter stilled by her side. “I’m sorry, hon, am I taking it too fast? I was just excited by what a good night we had and business gets my juices going.” He inched over and leaned in toward her, trailing his index finger from her throat to her décolletage.

Sam opened her eyes, looking up at him. “I may have made a mistake.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed in frustration. “What are you talking about, Sam? Tonight was fantastic.”

“This,” she whispered. “Tonight. I may have made a mistake. I don’t want to lead you down the wrong path.”

Peter seemed to go dark. Sam blinked, not quite wanting to notice the danger there, but not willing to dismiss it either. She narrowed her own gaze, challenging him and leaning forward, pushing him back. He eased, his entire face softening. Lips, brows, eyes. “Come on, Sam. Please. Hey, I’m sorry I’m so busy talking business and not paying much attention to you. That’s my fault.” He reached for her hand and gently placed it into his own. “Now give me a chance. I know I can be a bit pushy, but you have to admit we make a great team. Both professionally and if you give me half a chance you’ll see we can be good together personally too.”

Peter leaned in, his full lips heavy as they came down upon her own. He was skilled and well timed when he moved to the side and used his tongue to smoothly ease the crease of her lips open and make his way into the passage of her mouth. His arms circled around her and he pulled her in close as the car took a left and her body pivoted further onto him. He moaned into her throat.

“See, I told you we fit.”

Sam opened her eyes and met his, the number eight flashing in her mind. She eked out a small smile, thinking of her brother Charles and finally making her parents happy. No matter how much she loved painting, there was still the part of her that loved her parents and wanted to please them more. She could do it too — just accept this man. Peter was her ticket. But damn, was the price too high?

Peter gave her a confident smile in return and placed her back on the seat as the car came to a stop in front of her building. “And babe, clear your calendar for a free day for dinner with my family. My mother wants to plan something. She’ll discuss it at lunch with your mom tomorrow.”

At lunch? With her mother? “Peter, I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. I need to concentrate on my show — ”

“Come on, Sam,” he said, cutting her off and taking her hand in his. “I’ve already told my mother you’re looking forward to it.”

Sam sighed, and prayed her practiced smile wouldn’t crack.

Mark’s senses were already on full alert when he heard the elevator touch down and open on their floor. He’d told himself that it was just his training, just his sensitive ears, just the fact that he’d had too much coffee, but he’d known better. He knew the truth of it was that he was up after midnight and not on a job — listening and waiting to see what time she’d come home from her date with Moss. And if she’d come home alone.

Damn, man. You should have stayed in your lane. Or at least on your own fucking floor.

On principle, Mark refused to get up from where he was lounging on the couch when he heard the elevator stop. He just took another swig of his beer and mindlessly looked up at the game he was supposedly watching, though for the life of him he couldn’t make heads or tails of what was going on.

All he could see in his mind’s eye was her. Her in that sexy scrap of fabric that she dared to call a dress. The satiny feel of her skin that he barely got enough of when he grazed by her earlier. The sweet smell of lavender that teased his senses as she breezed past and left — he swallowed — in fucking Moss’s car.

He let out yet another curse and took another swig of his beer, clicking off the TV. Oh well. She was probably in for the night. He might as well give up his puppy dog pining and turn in himself. Maybe tomorrow he would start looking for a place. See about subletting this and getting on with life.

He was just about to get up to head for his bedroom when the knock at his front door had his blood pumping and heart thumping double time. The way he jumped up, banging into a side table and sending it screeching, had images of a well-trained dog, with an inner ear problem, awaiting his master coming to mind. Shit. Now, he couldn’t even pretend like he was busy or asleep or not at home. Mark stopped just short of wrenching open the door and held himself off. You’ve got to cool it, man. She’s already made it clear what she wants from you — nothing more than a quick fuck from a friend. He frowned at his own inward thoughts. And since when was this a problem for any red blooded male living next door to one of the hottest women on the planet?