by Jayne Castle
“You and I have already agreed on a price.” Buchanan leaned back in his chair, eyes watchful.
“Unfortunately she neglected to consult me before agreeing on that price,” Gabriel broke in placidly. “And since the two of us are partners, it’s necessary that we both agree before signing any papers.”
“We’ve discussed the matter and decided that, under the circumstances, we’re willing to be reasonable,” Samantha announced easily. “Four hundred thousand is our final figure.”
“Like hell.”
“Take it or leave it, Buchanan.” Gabriel drawled.
Buchanan studied the other man’s quiet, unyielding features for a moment and then switched his gaze to the one he perceived as the weaker member of the “partnership.”
“Sam,” he said very softly. “You know I’ll go through with it, don’t you? You worked for me long enough to know I don’t bluff.”
“Which was probably why I caved in so easily the other morning when you called,” she responded smoothly. “I have since learned, however, that you do bluff on occasion.”
“You think I won’t ruin him? And you, too, while I’m at it?” Buchanan smiled with indulgent amusement.
“You can’t touch me without involving yourself,” Gabriel told him. “That was something Samantha didn’t realize immediately. I will admit, however, that you do have some potential for hurting her business at some point in the future.”
“I’m glad you see that,” Drew responded coolly. “I was counting on you figuring that out if she did go to you and tell you about my little bluff. You’re absolutely right, Sinclair. I can crush her fledgling little business with no more effort than it takes to swat a fly. Get in my way one more time and I’ll do it. You know goddamn well do it!”
“Which brings us to the reason Gabriel and I are here in person, Drew,” Samantha interrupted calmly. “As he has pointed out, you are an armed and dangerous man. We’re here to disarm you so that we can all continue to do business together with a certain amount of integrity.”
“Should I laugh now or later?”
“Save it for later,” Gabriel suggested. “Let us explain to you exactly why Samantha and I now expect you to do business in good faith. I think you’ll be interested.”
“You call holding me up for several hundred grand dealing in good faith?”
“Come on, Buchanan, s-she outmaneuvered you. But s-she did it by the book. There was no intimidation, no questionable business methods on her part, no illegal moves. Samantha used good research and sound business sense to corner you on that restaurant deal. Admit it. S-she’s good.” Gabriel didn’t regret the stammer this time. Let Buchanan interpret it as weakness. It would set him up for the fall.
“So tell me why I’m not going to be in a position to crush her when this is all over,” Buchanan invited, his eyes on Samantha’s composed face. Hell, both of them looked so damned sure of themselves this time, he thought uneasily. What were they up to now?
“Because,” warned Samantha conversationally, “make one move toward either of us, and we’ll make sure you never leave Miami for Washington, D.C. Its that simple.”
Buchanan froze, but the cool smile on his lips stayed firmly in place. “And just how would you go about stopping me?”
“With this.” Gabriel reached into the small case he had brought with him and handed a set of papers across the desk. “Look familiar?”
Buchanan glanced down at the records of payoffs which went back five years, and a cold sensation settled into the bottom of his stomach. Who the hell had talked? Who knew all of these facts and figures? He had been so careful. Only he knew where that information was stashed away in the computer. Damn it, there was no one who could have talked! Not to this extent. No one else knew this much. Only the computer… Jesus Christ. If this stuff got into the papers, Galloway would desert him with no questions asked. It wasn’t that Galloway’s methods had been any cleaner down through the years, but he’d done a pretty fair job of hiding the bodies. He would expect any man he sponsored to be equally good at hiding the remains.
Samantha read the still, shuttered expression on her ex-boss’s face with the unerring accuracy of someone who had once worked for the man. The accuracy of a woman who had once believed herself in love with him. Drew knew he was beaten.
“It goes into a safety-deposit box, Drew,” she said quietly.
He looked up, eyes savage and frustrated. “You really think you’d have the guts to use this stuff? Come on, Sam. I know you too well.”
She smiled at him, and Gabriel, who was intently watching her face, saw the amazon make her appearance. He had been about to interrupt, but the sight of that smile made him close his teeth around the words. There were times when his woman could definitely take care of herself
“A man like you has a tendency to mistake principles in an opponent for weakness,” Samantha commented musingly. “A mistake that can be quite costly at times.” She paused. “Quite frankly, smearing your name across the Miami papers wouldn’t faze me in the least.”
Buchanan stared at her, frustrated fury beginning to fray the edges of his outward calm. Who the hell did these two think they were to get in the way of Drew Buchanan. “I’ve worked long and hard to get where I’m going, Sam,” he hissed. “Do you think let you stop me?”
“I’m not trying to stop you,” she said with a little laugh. “Just trim your sails a bit. Free-ranging capitalists sometimes need a few controls placed on them, just like my mother once said.”
Buchanan shot to his feet, eyes blazing. “Six months from now you won’t have Sinclair to protect you, Sam!”
“Gabriel will be around six months from now,” Samantha announced calmly, aware of Gabriel’s small, certain smile. “The partnership will exist six years from now. It will exist indefinitely. It’s for life.”
“And what if something happens to your precious partner, Sam? What if something very unpleasant happens to him? I’ve got friends, bitch. Friends who will handle little matters like getting rid of people who are in the way!”
Samantha blinked, appalled in spite of herself. Murder? Was Drew Buchanan actually talking about murder? He was enraged, she realized. More frustrated and enraged than she had ever seen him. A small chill went down her spine, and then Gabriel was calmly interrupting.
“Now, now, Buchanan. First of all, if you haven’t learned by now, the lady can take care of herself. However, just in case your temper has gotten the better of you, it might be a good idea to consider that a couple of other people will know the location of the safety-deposit box which will contain copies of the information we have on you.”
After a moment of deafening silence Samantha said, “I think we’ve cleared up all the loose ends.” She rose to her feet, preparing to leave, as Gabriel quietly rose to stand beside her. “Try to block us again, Drew, and I’ll use that information to destroy you without a second thought. Shall we go, Gabriel?”
White-faced with impotent rage, Buchanan stared at his uninvited visitors. “You bastards.”
Gabriel sighed. “And here Samantha made me promise I’d try to keep the language above the level of the locker room. Sorry, darling.”
“Have the papers sent to Samantha’s home, Buchanan,” Gabriel added easily, taking Samantha’s arm. “And remember, the final price is five hundred thousand.” Suddenly he grinned his deep-sea smile. “You ought to be grateful to me, you know. If I’d let Samantha have her way, you’d be s-s-shelling out seven hundred and fifty thousand instead of only five hundred. You got a deal.”
“Get the fuck out of my office!” Buchanan roared.
***
One week later Samantha opened the door of her home to Vera Maitland.
“Run this one off, Mom, and never forgive you,” she told the handsome older woman who stood on the doorstep as she hugged her.
“If I can run him off, he’s not worth having, is he?” Vera Maitland retorted practically.
“I never run when I
can walk,” Gabriel murmured from the hallway behind Samantha. “How do you do, Ms. Maitland? I’m Gabriel Sinclair.”
He stood patiently beneath the assessing gaze from the eyes that were so like Samantha’s, and then he smiled. “Why don’t you come on in to the kitchen? I was just making tea.”
Vera glanced at her daughter as Gabriel turned and walked away from them. “There’s something rather massive about him, isn’t there?”
“My first thought exactly. Strange, isn’t it? I mean, he’s not that tall and there’s no fat on him. He’s just sort of there. Very reassuring at times.”
Maternal anxiety flickered briefly in Vera’s eyes. “Sam, honey, are you sure you know what you’re doing this time?”
“Wait until you taste his cooking.” Samantha grinned, guiding her mother into the kitchen.
The shortbread was still warm from the oven, and Gabriel was carefully pouring tea when Vera and Samantha walked into the inviting room. He glanced up and smiled complacently. “Lemon or sugar, Ms. Maitland?”
“Lemon,” Vera told him, watching closely. “And call me Vera, Gabriel.”
He nodded, concentrating on the task at hand as Vera and Samantha took their chairs. When the tea was properly poured and the pot set precisely on its trivet, he sat down and picked up the plate of shortbread. He extended it politely to Vera, who hesitated and then helped herself to a thick wedge.
“You made this?” she inquired cautiously, sampling the warm, crumbly cookie.
“The man cooks divinely,” Samantha assured her.
Gabriel smiled benignly. “Fortunately. Otherwise this marriage might be in bad shape. Samantha’s culinary abilities seem to be limited to frozen pizza, Vera. You did a lousy job on certain aspects of her education.”
Vera gave him a level glance. “I taught her the important things.”
Gabriel nodded. “I-won’t argue there. Some of those things you taught her are a few of the reasons I’m marrying her.”
“Why are you marrying her, Gabriel?” Vera demanded coolly.
Samantha winced. Her mother in this quizzing, aggressive mood could be quite formidable. Gabriel didn’t even falter, however, under that aggression.
“I’m marrying her because, even though the woman can’t cook, she has a few other attributes I happen to value.”
“Such as?”
“I can trust her implicitly. She’s utterly loyal, and she’s one hell of a business partner when the chips are down. I suppose I have you to thank for teaching her those things.” Gabriel glanced with a sidelong glance at Samantha, who was munching on her shortbread with delicate greed. “Some of the other reasons I love her aren’t exactly things you taught her. She was born with them.”
“Don’t be crude in front of my mother, Gabriel.” Samantha reached for her tea.
“And some of the things I love about her didn’t come from you or from genetics. Some talents she just appears to have developed on her own, like her remarkable ability to fill my life with various and assorted s-shocks and surprises. It’s been a struggle trying to cope at times, but I realize now that it does add another dimension to my rather humdrum little world.”
“Don’t let the man fool you,” Samantha advised her mother. “His world hardly qualifies as humdrum. He’s managed to take me by surprise on more than one occasion. And I used to think he was such an angel,” she added with mocking wistfulness. Across the table her eyes met Gabriel’s, and a message of loving amusement flashed between them.
Vera Maitland didn’t miss the exchange. “I am pleased,” she began thoughtfully, “that you recognize some of the qualities I tried to instill in Samantha. I wanted her to grow up with a sense of pride and integrity. I wanted her to know the meaning of honor and loyalty…” Her voice trailed off as she glanced at her daughter. “But…”
“But you didn’t expect her to throw all that away on a man, did you, Vera?” Gabriel asked softly. “You hoped s-she’d apply them to the worthy causes of this world. But Samantha is not another you, Vera. Not completely. You commit yourself to great battles; she makes her commitment to people.”
Vera stared at him, her teacup halfway to her mouth. For a long moment she studied the man her daughter would soon be marrying. “Do you know, Gabriel Sinclair, you may be right,” she said at last. “You may very well be right. I never thought of it that way.”
“Of course, I’m right.” He handed her the plate of shortbread. “It’s much riskier, you know.”
“What is?” Vera asked sharply.
“Committing yourself to people instead of causes. You can always walk away without too much regret when a cause turns sour. You can’t walk away from people so easily. Much more of an emotional investment involved.”
“For a businessman,” Vera observed as she helped herself to another piece of shortbread, “you have a surprisingly interesting grasp of the fundamentals of human dynamics. If you are right, then I can only be grateful my daughter has found a man who appreciates what he’s getting.”
“S-she has,” he assured her equably. “And may I say that for a lifelong radical you have a surprising amount of sensitivity to people.”
“If I could interrupt for a moment,” Samantha broke in with mock politeness, “perhaps I could have another cup of tea?”
Vera smiled. A wide, brilliant smile that Gabriel had seen on her daughter on occasion. “I wouldn’t mind another cup myself, Gabriel. And don’t worry dear,” she directed toward her daughter. “I’m going to accept the marriage. I get the feeling I couldn’t run Gabriel off if I tried.”
“As I said, Vera,” he murmured, “I rarely run. The only excess energy I have expended lately has been in pursuit of Samantha. The effort has quite exhausted me. I won’t be doing any unnecessary exercise for quite a while.”
***
The move to Gabriel’s house was decided with a toss of a coin. Gabriel groaned when Samantha suggested that simple technique of deciding which of them was to move where. When his beachfront home won the toss, he worried about whether Samantha really would be happy in California.
“I can’t wait to get into that lovely, neat house of yours and muss it up a little,” she assured him zestfully.
Gabriel groaned again, but there was a gleam of amusement in his eyes this time. It was going to be interesting to see what Samantha would do. Maybe, just like his life, his house could use a few surprises.
The keys of the old Victorian were handed over to its new resident, Eric Thorndyke, and Samantha and Gabriel set off on the drive to California one cold, rainy morning.
The move had gone with remarkable smoothness as far as Samantha was concerned, but that was undoubtedly because Gabriel had organized it. It was true the packing had taken much longer under his supervision, and the various arrangements necessary for setting up her corporation in California seemed to take forever, but both were done with a thoroughness which assured they had been done right.
One hour into the drive south Gabriel asked the question he had been mulling over in his mind since Vera Maitland had left a few weeks earlier. “Why didn’t you tell your mother about the coup you pulled on Buchanan?”
A tiny smile edged Samantha’s mouth. “Somehow it just didn’t seem all that important. I stopped needing the revenge somewhere along the way. We didn’t wind up going after Buchanan for revenge, anyway. We went after him to protect our partnership.”
“To protect each other,” he agreed calmly. “I love you, Samantha.”
“I love you, Gabriel.” Proving herself her mother’s daughter simply didn’t matter anymore, Samantha thought. She was quite content to be herself.
Which was, of course, the most important lesson her mother had tried to teach her. Samantha had learned it on her own.
On their first night back in the seaside home, Samantha suggested a walk on the beach after dinner. The meal had been superb, as usual, and she was feeling pleasantly stuffed on trout with caviar cream sauce, a watercress and cucumber salad,
and a luscious lemon meringue pie which Gabriel had insisted on making in honor of the first meal he had served her.
With her arm wrapped around his waist and Gabriel cradling her close to his side, Samantha walked in silence for a time, drinking in the fresh salt air and the moonlit darkness. Underneath her feet the sand was firm and resilient.
Gabriel’s hand tightened around her, and she was pulled a little closer to the hard line of his thigh. It occurred to Samantha that in a few more minutes she wasn’t going to be in a mood to talk. Once Gabriel started to make love to her, she was really quite helpless to resist, she thought in satisfaction. Therefore what she had to say had best be said quickly.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,” she said quietly.
“Ummm?” Gabriel’s voice was a rumbling purr of masculine content.
“A business matter.”
Some of the contentment went out of Gabriel’s tone. “Go on.”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about the old man down in Phoenix. The one we bought the restaurant from.”
“And?” She could hear him waiting for the punch line and smiled to herself. Poor Gabriel. He was already preparing himself for another bombshell.
“I think we ought to split the five hundred thousand with him, Gabriel. After all, if it hadn’t been for him, we’d never have made that deal work.”
“Split it with him!” He swung to a halt and turned to eye her closely in the darkness. “Split it with the taco stand owner? But, Samantha, we gave him fifty grand for that place, and it wasn’t worth more than thirty at the most! He was delighted with the deal!”
“He didn’t know what we knew, though. He didn’t realize how much the place was worth,” she pointed out. “We sort of took advantage of him, Gabriel.”
He gave her a very stern look. “Samantha, I think I’d better explain a few business facts of life to you, honey. When you’ve pulled off a coup like the one we did down in Phoenix, and when all the moves have been legal and aboveboard, there’s really no need to go around distributing a percentage of the take to every passerby!”