Foolish Notions (22 page)

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Authors: Aris Whittier

BOOK: Foolish Notions
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Samantha pulled her hands from his
torso like she was being scalded. “We can’t do this.”

“Don’t.”

Samantha pushed against the wall of his
chest and slid off the table. Once she gained her bearings she
stepped away from him, her breath catching as she did

“Let’s go in,” he
said, gesturing toward the door.

“No.”

“Samantha,” he said
hesitantly.

Samantha shook her head and then rubbed
her hands over her face briskly. The night air was cool against her
heated skin. She shivered and moved to the table, where she found her
hair clip. After securing her hair, she picked up a stack of dishes
she had stacked earlier.

“What are you doing?”

She set the dishes back down again as
she struggled with her emotions. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me,”
James said in a disgusted tone.

Samantha’s hand went to her head
and she rubbed her brow and looked back at him. “I don’t
know what’s happening to me.” She continued to press her
hand against her head. “There’s probably a word for it in
some thick fancy textbook.” Her eyes dropped. “There’s
something definitely wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with
you.” He took the hand that was at her brow and brought it to
his lips. “Relax.”

“I can’t,” she
whispered in honest desperation.

“Sure you can.” He linked
his fingers with hers. “The word’s called lust, Angel.”

She pulled her hand away. “Don’t.
I can’t think when you do that.” She closed her eyes
while she organized her thoughts.

“There’s nothing fancy or
complicated about it.”

“This is a dangerous game and one
I don’t want to play.”

“This isn’t a game,
Samantha.”

When she opened her eyes they locked
intently on James. “You’re wasting your time; you know
that, don’t you?”

James felt like someone had doused him
with a cup of cold water “Let me be the one to decide that.”
He took her hand again; he wouldn’t lose the ground he had just
gained. He wasn’t blind, he’d seen, could still see, the
desire she was trying to hide behind a cold veneer.

She looked down at her hand. “Find
someone else, because I’m not interested.”

“I don’t want someone
else.” Light flickered in his eyes. “I want you.”

“You want me because you can’t
have me.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “There are
hundreds of women who have nice smelling hair who would love to be
wined, dined, and seduced by you.”

“They’re not you.”
With no change in his expression he spoke again. “Besides, your
‘you only want what you can’t have’ analogy doesn’t
apply to me.” His head tilted to the side. “I always get
what I want.”

Ignoring the underlying warning, she
said, “Not this time.”

“Always—”

Pure frustration consumed her eyes.
“Talking to you is like talking to a wall; it’s
pointless. Why aren’t you listening to me? Don’t you get
it? I don’t want this.”

“I am listening to you. I heard
you loud and clear at the restaurant the other night, and I sure as
hell don’t think I was misinterpreting you just a minute ago.”
He gestured behind him at the bonfire. “I think they heard you
loud and clear, too.”

“All of it was a mistake.”

“It seems like you’re
making a lot of mistakes lately, Samantha.” He waited for a
minute. “If the same mistake is repeated many times, is it
still considered a mistake?”

“Business slow at work, James?”
she snapped.

He was all too aware of where she was
going. His eyes turned dark. “Don’t go there, Samantha.”

“Why not?” She flung her
hands in the air. “You’ve already made it clear that
you’re looking for a challenge.” Her eyes narrowed as she
dared him.

James’s back went stiff as he
felt the anger rise in him. He fought to keep control, for the ground
she was choosing to venture into wasn’t safe. And she damn well
knew it.

“I guess that’s what I’ve
become . . . a challenge.” She spoke the next words in a
mocking tone. “One of James Taylor’s little challenges.”
Her eyebrows lifted slightly in inquiry as her blue eyes flashed. “Is
the Europe deal already closed? Or perhaps it’s not challenging
enough for you. I know how quickly you get bored.”

Her sing-song voice shot to his core.
Moving his hand to the back of his neck, James massaged the shooting
pain that was spreading rapidly. Even with all his determination not
to get angry, he felt something deep inside him coil tightly.
“Samantha, I would stop if I were you.”

“I’m not one of your little
workers you can order around.”

James’s jaw was tightly fixed as
he bit back the anger she was dangerously tapping into.

“I’m not a pawn in one of
your million-dollar deals. And I’m sure the hell not some
company or contract you can manipulate and make yours.”

“That’s enough.”
Sure, he had treated other women like they were at his disposal, but
never Samantha. Samantha was never a passing fancy. He might have
loved her obsessively, possessively, and a little recklessly, but it
was because he had been overwhelmed by what he had felt for her.

She took a step back. Her eyes were ice
cold. “All you big businessmen are alike. You don’t care
about the people around you.”

“Don’t put our relationship
in that category. Don’t you dare compare what we shared to what
others share.” It stung to have her strip their relationship
down to nothing more than average.

“Why? Are we so different? We’ve
ended up like most of them anyway.” She shrugged. “Besides,
it belongs there. I was no different than any of the other guy’s
girlfriends—”

“You were entirely different.”

She shook her head. “If I had
been, then maybe you wouldn’t have felt the need to do what you
did. Maybe you wouldn’t have wanted to turn to someone else.”

James wanted to take her by the
shoulders and shake some sense into her. “You don’t know
what you’re talking about.”

“I know I was naïve and
stupid to think you weren’t like them.” She used the back
of her hand to push the wisps of hair from her eyes. “Name one
man who you work with who hasn’t cheated.”

He remained silent.

“You can’t, can you?
Endless meetings, extremely long working hours, business trips,
conventions, parties, women—”

“Are you suggesting that in my
type of business, work and cheating go hand in hand?” He moved
closer. “I want to hear you admit it.”

She slapped the back of one hand
against the palm of the other, in a display of absolute agitation.
Her voice rose as she spoke. “You’re the one who wants me
to admit to everything.

Goddamn it, how about you admit that
what we had didn’t mean a damn thing to you. I want to hear you
admit that all of it was a farce.”

He stood there watching her vigilantly.
His entire body seemed to vibrate.

Samantha’s eyes darted over his
shoulder to the bonfire and then back to him. Her words were as cold
as ice when she finally spoke. “Imagine what you could obtain
if you could seduce a company and make it yours. You’d make the
Fortune 500 list for at least a decade.”

He inched toward her, infuriated with
her accusations. He didn’t want to hear any more. “Do I
even have to seduce you, Samantha? From your display moments before,
not much seduction is needed.”

The question hit her full force. “How
dare you.”

“Afraid to answer the question?”
His voice taunted as he watched a turbulent storm flash in her eyes.
“Or are we not wasting words over the obvious?”

“You’re a heartless
monster,” she said, her eyes brimming with anger.

He opened his mouth and then shut it
again. Moving forward he purposely took the clip out of her hair and
let it tumble around his arm. With two fingers he touched the
sensitive area behind her ear and ran them down her neck, across her
chest, into the soft area between her breasts. “Apparently I
am.” The kiss he placed on her shaking lips wasn’t meant
to please.

Chapter Seventeen

James craned his neck in an awkward
fashion to try to alleviate some of the pain he was experiencing.
Goddamn he was sore. He had left Samantha standing on the deck last
night and had come to his office, because she had not only infuriated
him, she had completely knocked him off balance. He looked up,
momentarily pretending he was listening to the person giving a
presentation at the end of the long conference table. He was good at
appearing interested.

His thoughts drifted again. The last
time he had slept on that damn couch in his office had been when
Samantha had left him. He had stayed at his office for over two weeks
because he couldn’t stand being at home or in bed without her.
He had left last night for just the opposite reason. She was there.
The pain in his neck tensed. He thought about the small tin in the
top of his desk drawer that contained aspirin and fought the urge to
make a mad dash for it.

The person giving the presentation
paused and handed out a packet to everyone. When James got the green
folder he absentmindedly creased the first page open with the edge of
this thumb. He only heard the speaker’s first few words before
he was lost in the mayhem of the previous night. He had been outraged
when Samantha insinuated that he was some ruthless, heartless man. He
felt his grip tighten on the pen; he looked down and saw his knuckles
turn white and released it. He wasn’t the cold-hearted
son-of-a-bitch that she was making him out to be.

He mulled that over for a minute. Okay,
that wasn’t entirely true. He was a little merciless when it
came to business. In his line of work ruthlessness was a
prerequisite. But he had never been merciless with Samantha. The
hard-nosed trait that allowed him to excel in his profession was
never brought home. She had been what balanced it and kept it in
check.

He felt himself getting angry all over
again. She had been way off base to suggest otherwise. Did she truly
believe that he thought she and their relationship was no better than
a business deal? No better than some of his colleagues’
relationships? What they had was more intense and more real than
anything he’d ever experienced. How dare she belittle that.

He took a sip of the coffee that Shelly
had handed him over forty minutes ago, when the meeting had first
started. She had told him he looked like he needed it as she shoved
it into one hand and a thick file into the other. The cold, bitter
drink did nothing but ignite the burning that had been smoldering in
his stomach. Between the excruciating pain in the top portion of his
body and the burning in the lower, all he wanted to do was toss
everything off the table, lie across it, and groan until the pain
subsided.

When the presentation ended he pushed
all his soreness to the back of his mind and focused on the room. It
was his turn to take the floor. Looking up, he gave a nod of approval
to the speaker. “Very good, Rick.” He then looked over to
a young man just out of prep school. “Doug, I want you to put
together a team to go over to Europe and work on the new merger.”
He examined his calendar. “Have a preliminary list for me to
review by next week. I want to get them over there as soon as
possible.”

“Yes, sir. However, they want to
put together their own team.” Doug started to pass James some
papers. “Here is their list—”

James looked up after jotting some
notes. “I want our own people there. At least for the first six
months.”

“I agree. That was going to be my
recommendation,” Doug said lightly.

“Good.” James did little
more than glance up. “Then we’re on the same page.”

“However—”

“I don’t like howevers,
Doug.”

“They are being very persistent—”

“I don’t give a damn what
they want or how persistent they are being.” He took a deep
breath to steady himself. “There was nothing in the contract
stating this.”

Doug nodded. “True. But we never
divulged that we wanted our people in there either. They’re
worried about job security.”

“The acquisitions team explained
to them there would be some downsizing. Unfortunately, some employees
are going to become nonessential because of the merger. This isn’t
something new to them.” James reached for the coffee but didn’t
take a drink; he didn’t think his stomach could take a drop
more.

“We have a commitment—”

“To our company, Doug,”
James said unsympathetically.

“I’m making you personally
responsible for putting their minds at ease. Reassure them that we’ve
hand-picked the right professionals to head this.”

Doug only nodded.

“No mistakes. If this merger
collapses it will be costly.”

James looked down and sifted through
some papers, then glanced back at the rest of the group. “I
think that’s it.” He looked to Raymond. “Is there
anything you’d like to add?”

“No, I think that about covers
it.”

James lifted his briefcase from the
floor onto the table. “See everyone Monday morning.”

In his office he glared at the couch,
which was two feet shorter than he was. The expensive piece of
furniture was the cause of all the pain that was rapidly creeping
across his shoulders and down his back. He couldn’t sleep on it
again. He wouldn’t be able to walk in the morning if he did.

“Mr. Taylor.” Shelly poked
her head into his office. “I’m getting ready to leave. Do
you want me to order you some dinner?”

James shook his head. “That won’t
be necessary.”

“I can get you a blanket and a
pillow if you are staying the night again.” She motioned over
her shoulder. “I think there are some things in the closet in
the lounge.”

He shook his head. “Thank you,
but I’ll be going home tonight.” He might not be welcomed
but he was going nonetheless. His mom would know something was the
matter if he didn’t come home, and he didn’t want her to
worry. That was the last thing she needed.

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