Double Dealing (35 page)

She sipped her Chardonnay thoughtfully as he talked, sensing
the anger which lay beneath the polite facade. Whatever had occurred in Seattle
had not been fully satisfactory. In a few minutes she learned why.

“Sinclair.” She took another sip of wine and frowned beautifully.
“Gabriel Sinclair. You say he’s working on the West Coast? A venture
capitalist?”

Buchanan watched her closely. “That’s right.”

“Not by any chance related to the Weston
Sinclairs
,
is he? They had a son who, I believe, had a talent for money. The last I heard
he’d left the family business and headed for California. That was a few years
ago.”

Buchanan couldn’t believe his luck. “You know him?”

“I’m not sure. Dark, red-brown hair, a rather solid sort of
build? Certainly lacking in the social graces, considering his background.”

“And with a stammer?” Buchanan realized he was holding his
breath.

Carol nodded slowly. “Now that you mention it, I believe
there was some speech problem.”

“What do you know about him?” Drew demanded quickly.

“Not much, really. His parents and mine were friends for a
time. Weston Sinclair was in politics. We met them on the Washington party
circuit. His son didn’t really fit in. But he was married to a woman who dearly
loved the Washington scene, and occasionally she dragged him along to some of
the cocktail parties and such. Poor dear.”

“Sinclair?” Buchanan frowned.

“No.” Carol chuckled. “His wife. She longed so to take her
place in society, and all her husband wanted to do was stay at home and manage
the family business. I know she was bored to tears with him. Left him, as I recall,
when everything fell apart for the
Sinclairs
. We never
saw any of the family socially after that, of course, but I do recall hearing
that after he’d salvaged what was left of the
Sinclairs
’
business for his father, Gabriel had headed for the West Coast.”

Buchanan only had one question. “What do you mean, after
things fell apart?”

Carol arched an eyebrow in surprise. “Don’t you remember all
that hubbub about Weston Sinclair’s connection to underworld heavies? Ruined
his political career when they came to light. One has to be so careful these
days,” she added almost regretfully. “The public demands such a ridiculously
high standard from its elected representatives. Once the media gets hold of some
juicy tidbit, it’s very difficult for a politician to recover.”

“Tell me,” Buchanan said slowly, “about the Weston Sinclair
scandal. I didn’t follow the Washington scene that closely in those days.”

“Well, I did.” Carol smiled. “Can’t help but do it when you’re
raised in a political household! Let me see, what do I remember? The facts, of
course, would have been in the papers at the time.”

“I’ll have my assistant start digging through the library in
the morning.”

Carol nodded absently. “Now what else can I tell you?” she
mused. “It’s a little difficult to remember Gabriel Sinclair. My chief
recollection, I’m afraid, was that he was quite dull.”

“I assure you, at the moment, he is making my life anything
but dull!” Buchanan reached for his wine and listened attentively to everything
Carol Galloway could recall. Christ, he was lucky to have found her! The perfect
politician’s wife.

And Carol, who had been raised from infancy to be precisely
that, spilled out everything she could remember about Weston Sinclair and his
family. If there was one thing a survivor on the Washington social circuit learned
in a hurry, it was to have a retentive ear for gossip. Careers were made or
broken on gossip in that world. She had been only twenty at the time, but her parents
had trained her well.

The man sitting across from her was going to provide her
with her proper place, the position she’d been groomed for since infancy. She
would no longer be the daughter but would be the wife of a prominent
politician. A much more powerful position.

And Daddy would see that Drew became prominent. Daddy liked
Drew. Carol was astute enough to know that it was probably because the two men
were so much alike.

Across from her, Drew contemplated how he would stop
Samantha in her tracks, and then his imagination went farther. The little fool
needed to be taught a lesson. When this was all over, he’d make sure she got it.
No one, least of all an emotional little piece like her, was going to get away
with trying to score off him. He’d give it a few months before he went after
her. Give the relationship with Gabriel Sinclair a chance to cool off so that
Sinclair wouldn’t feel obliged to come to her rescue. And that relationship was
bound to cool eventually. Carol said the man was as dull as dishwater, and
Samantha was anything but. She’d grow tired of him. Or else, Drew told himself
with savage humor, Sinclair would grow tired of her antics.

One way or another, Samantha would probably be on her own in
a few months time, and then she would be vulnerable.

Destroying her would be a pleasure. Buchanan smiled to
himself. An interesting exercise in power.

“The important thing, Gabriel,” Samantha announced two
mornings later as he prepared to leave for California, “is that you don’t get
the idea you can control me with sex.”

“No,” he agreed in a rather vague tone as he packed his
shaving kit with immaculate precision.

Samantha watched the careful process of packing as Gabriel
practiced it and hid an indulgent smile. “I mean, I wouldn’t want you getting
the notion that anytime we disagree you can simply march in here and… and…”

“And lay you down on your Oriental rug and make love to you
until you stop arguing?” He straightened abruptly, zipped the shaving kit shut,
and turned to face her. His eyes were gleaming with suppressed laughter, a
laughter that was entirely too wicked for Samantha’s peace of mind. “I wouldn’t
think of it!

“Darn you.” She sighed, throwing herself into his arms and
blissfully letting his strength absorb the impact. “You’re impossible. And I
wish you didn’t have to go back to California today.”

He cradled her head with his hand, holding her close. “I
wish I didn’t have to go back, either. But I’ve got a couple of things which
have to be watched down there. Interesting as this deal of ours has proven to
be, it is not my only ongoing project.”

“Do any of your other ongoing projects involve women?” she
mumbled into his shirt. She inhaled the scent of him, storing up the intimate
taste of it in her mind.

“Would you be jealous if they did?” he said.

She could sense the expectant waiting in him. “Yes!”

He seemed inordinately pleased by the confession. She felt
the chuckle deep in his chest. It was good to feel the laughter in him. When
she’d first met him, Gabriel hadn’t been the type to laugh very often. Samantha
experienced a pleasant satisfaction at being able to bring out that particular
emotion.

“Samantha,” he whispered, holding her so that he could look
down into her face. “There’s no one else. You know that, don’t you?”

She nodded mutely. The thing about Gabriel Sinclair was that
you could trust him implicitly.

“And there’s no one else for you, either,” he concluded evenly.

She shook her head, again without saying a word.

“When I come back from California the day after tomorrow, we’ll
have to talk about that,” he stated.

“Talk about what?” she demanded softly.

“Honey, I can’t keep running up and down the coast every
week,” he affirmed dryly. “We need to discuss a more convenient arrangement.”

“Gabriel… ?”

“I’ve got to go, honey, or I’ll miss the ferry. If I miss the
ferry, I’ll miss my plane.” He pulled her close and kissed her hard on the
mouth. “And if I miss my plane, I’ll be in trouble down in California. Things
are at the critical stage down there with a new computer design firm I’m
backing. I’ll be back the day after tomorrow. Then we’ll sit and wait to hear
from Buchanan. He should be making up his mind to play the game our way by
then.”

“You don’t think he’ll call sooner than that?”

“I doubt it. He’ll want us to sweat a bit. It’s the only weapon
he’s got left. If I’m wrong, though, and he does call, just find out what he’s
offering and tell him you’ll consult with me. Then hang up and call me,
understand? I don’t want you bargaining with him on your own!”

“I don’t want you giving away that restaurant, either,” she
retorted. “We can get the seven hundred and fifty thousand out of him if we
just hold our breath longer than he can.”

“Honey, in a situation like this things go much more smoothly
if we give a bit. Believe me, I know what I’m doing.”

“If you say so,” she agreed dubiously.

“I say so.” He kissed her again, this time on the forehead,
and reluctantly put her aside to pick up his overnight bag. “I’d better be
going,” he said, groaning.

She walked him out to the car, watching morosely as he
climbed inside and started the engine. “Goodbye, Gabriel,” she murmured
wistfully, realizing just how reluctant she was to see him go. “Hurry back.”

“I’ll do that.” He smiled. “And this time I hope there won’t
be any major surprises waiting. I’m not sure I could take it.”

“Nonsense,” she assured him cheerfully. “You can handle
anything, Gabriel.”

He grinned, that fleeting, wolfish grin, and then he put the
car in gear and drove sedately toward the main road. Samantha watched him until
he was out of sight and then turned and slowly walked back into the house.

A more convenient arrangement. What was he going to suggest?
That she move down to California, or that he move up here? Samantha mulled the
idea over and knew it made her uneasy. The affair with Gabriel Sinclair was the
most exciting thing that had ever happened to her. He aroused passions she
wouldn’t have dreamed existed and he elicited softer emotions in her as well.

But did she really want to live with him? It sounded very
much like marriage, and marriage was a state she had been so determined to
avoid since the disaster with Buchanan. Her mother was right. A woman could
only be really free as long as she didn’t commit herself to marriage.

The relationship with Gabriel was too new, too fragile, to
warrant such a serious step as moving in with him. Or was it simply that, deep
down, she feared that step because of what it would cost her?

Gabriel would be as possessive as any husband. He would
insist on getting involved in her business. She was sure of that. He felt she
needed a little polish and professional guidance. Scratch that “little.” He
felt she needed a hell of a lot, and knowing him, he’d see to it that she got
it even if he had to force it on her.

No, if she moved in with Gabriel, nothing would remain the
same. He would invade every aspect of her life. And she would insist on
fighting him every step of the way, especially when it came to running her own business.

Wouldn’t it be a hundred times smarter and safer to keep the
affair long distance? At least for the foreseeable future? They needed time to
work out some of the bugs in their relationship.

That’s what she would tell him, Samantha decided as she
closed the door behind her and started down the hall to the back parlor. She
would tell him they needed a little more time.

***

The unexpected call from Drew Buchanan, the one Gabriel had
assured her wouldn’t come so soon, came the next morning.

It changed Samantha’s whole life.

Buchanan didn’t even give her a chance to adjust to the
situation. He had seen the look in Samantha’s eyes when she had stood beside
Sinclair that morning in her living room. He’d seen the way she’d leaped to the
other man’s defense when he’d called Sinclair a lapdog. And he knew which
buttons to push when it came to dealing with Samantha Maitland, and he pushed
them without any compunction.

“Call it off, Sam. Take the hundred grand I’m willing to
give you and call it even. There aren’t going to be any negotiations.”

She heard the chill certainty in his voice, and something
inside her panicked.

“What are you talking about?” she managed coolly. But she
knew disaster had struck. Drew wouldn’t be sounding this positive if he hadn’t
found another weapon. Oh, God, what had he come up with now, and would she and
Gabriel be able to find a way to deal with it? Of course they would, she told
herself in the next breath. Her fingers tightened on the receiver.

“I’m talking about Gabriel Sinclair being Weston Sinclair’s
son. His only son. I’m talking about a scandal which erupted a few years ago
when it came to light that Weston Sinclair was hanging out with mobsters. I’m
talking about a political career in ruins and how that scandal could very
easily be resurrected if you and your lapdog go through with trying to take me
for seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. And if you don’t think it will be
easy to make it sound as though the son has followed in the footsteps of the
father, you’re naive, Sam. Even more naïve than I thought.”

“You’re lying!”

“You want the facts and figures? I’ve got them all right
here in front of me. Sure you want to hear them? They’re pretty brutal, Sam.
Your partner’s father really made a mess of things. Should have covered his
tracks a lot more carefully. Consorting with known underworld figures,
questionable business contracts, hints of payoffs, you name it.”

“You’re slipping.” She forced a lightness into her voice she
did not feel. “You can’t possibly hurt Gabriel with that kind of old news.”

“Want to bet?” Buchanan was smiling on the other end of the
line. Samantha could almost see that cold, hard smile. “Not only can I
resurrect all the mud surrounding his father, which certainly wouldn’t do
Weston Sinclair any good now that he’s finally back on his feet, but it would
be damn easy to give the Arizona papers the impression that the old “family
friends” are still helping out the
Sinclairs
’ son and
heir. Call it off, Sam, or I’ll smear your backer’s name all over Phoenix. It
sure as hell won’t do his career any good, will it?”