Love After All (27 page)

“Jackson, I'm only trying to look out for you.”

“Don't,” he said firmly, ending any further discussion. “Now, if you don't mind, it's late. And I'm right in the middle of something important.”

Having been put mildly in her place Shauna huffed and slammed the drink on the coffee table, spilling it. “Fine,” she sulked, buttoning her jacket, then crossing her arms over her chest. “I suppose this something important has something to do with Samantha.” Jackson didn't answer. “If you want me to leave just say so,” she said.

“Good night Shauna,” Jackson said.

“Fine,” Shauna snapped again as she snatched her purse from his hands angrily, stormed to the foyer and slammed out the front door.

 

Samantha leaned back on the other side of the closed bedroom door. A few minutes later she heard the front door slam. Going back downstairs had been a mistake.

She walked over and sat on the side of the bed. She was so far in over her head that drowning would be a welcome relief. She stood up and paced the floor a few times, wondering what to do next. Her thoughts scattered in every direction. What if she got caught, what if she couldn't do it, what if…? She sat on the side of the bed again and grabbed her cell phone from her purse. She needed answers and only one person could give them to her.

To her surprise, as soon as she picked up it, it began vibrating. She looked at the display and opened it quickly.

“Jefferson?”

“Sammy, are you okay?” he asked, hearing the stress in her voice. “I got your messages,” he said. “Sorry I couldn't get back to you sooner.”

“I can't do this blind,” she said in a near panic.

“Slow down,” he said patiently. “Tell me what happened.”

“I need answers, Jefferson,” she said. “And don't give me that
I don't want you any more involved than you have to be
logic. I don't buy it. I'm already involved, so it's too late for that. I want to know everything. Who exactly is Percival Lincoln and what does he really want?”

Jefferson sighed heavily. He'd hoped to avoid all this. Samantha was the only good thing in his life and dragging her into the middle of this situation was a mistake, but it was too late now. “Technically, Inspector Percival Lincoln is a retired fraud squad detective.”

“So he's legit?”

“Yes, but as I said, he's retired and it seems like he's trying to pull his own con game. Now he's a personal consultant, primarily for George Cooperman. But the real truth is as a cop he has been after me for years. He helped put Dad away years ago and has been obsessed with our family ever since.”

“What does he want?”

“He wants me.”

“But you're retired,” she said.

“He doesn't think so. And he'd like nothing better than to be the one to bring me in. You see, my retiring kind of messes up that whole conquering-hero, never-failed scenario.”

“But why now?” she asked.

“Your friend Eric did a con in New York and used my name. Lincoln got wind of it and caught him, thinking that it was me. Now he's using you, Jackson and Eric to get to me. Plus, he has a thing on the side.”

“So it doesn't matter who gets hurt in the process as long as he gets you.”

“Pretty much,” Jefferson said.

“He's going to just keep coming after you, isn't he? Your leaving the life means nothing.”

“No, not much. Some people would rather I just keep doing it. It's easier that way. I walked away while I was still on top. No arrests, no convictions, that doesn't sit well for some people. So they kind of make it their life's work to come after me.”

“That's just crazy. It sounds like a bad remake of
Les Misérables
with Jean Valjean and Inspector Javert.”

“Life is crazy, you know that. But make no mistake, Samantha, Lincoln is for real. He's cunning and deceptive and he's a brilliant strategist. He'll back you into a corner to get what he wants.”

“So this changes everything.”

“Not at all. His being here was predictable.”

“What do you mean? He's after you now?”

“It's public record that he caught Eric Hamilton just after he left New York. He recruited him to work this con with the promise of going free and keeping whatever he gets. All he wants is me, but he won't be able to resist putting Eric away, too, and anyone else,” he said slowly.

“That means me, too, right?” she asked, shuddering.

“No, never. I won't let that happen, ever.”

“But it's not up to you, is it?” she said. “Is it?”

“Samantha…” Jefferson began to reassure her.

“They're working together and he's going to double-cross Eric.”

“More than likely.”

“Where exactly do I fit into all this?”

“Eric apparently told him about you, so he's used the opportunity to come after me. He knows I'd never walk away and leave you out there alone.”

“He expected you to help me, didn't he?”

“Yes. He planned on it.”

“And here you are, just as he planned.”

“Yep.”

“He's waiting for you, to arrest you, right?”

“I suspect that he's going to pull me in as working with Eric on this con with Marcus Daley.”

“That can't happen.”

“It won't.”

“What about Jackson? Lincoln said that his mother—”

“Paula worked with Dad.”

“So it's true. She took the cash and ran out, leaving us broke. All those years Mom struggled to raise me when Dad walked out on us and went back to the life.”

“Sammy, it was more complicated. We'll talk when I see you.”

“No, now, tell me now.”

Jefferson sighed heavily. “Okay, as I said, it was more complicated.”

“How? He left me, you both did.”

“I never left you, Sammy, and neither did Dad. I was always by your side just like Dad. He was—”

“Don't talk to me about him. There's no defense for what he did. He walked out on us and left us with nothing.”

“There was money. Your mother just didn't want to touch it. Dad had an account for her, but she never went near it. He told me about it. So the money that Rachel took was her money. She earned it, it was hers.”

“I don't understand. He walked out on us, I remember. He left us, he left me.”

“Sammy, he didn't leave willingly. He didn't want to go, he had to.”

She stoned her emotions. For so long, she'd wanted to believe that it was all a mistake, that her father had always loved her. “So why did he leave?”

Jefferson paused. “Your mother asked him to.”

“That's ridiculous, she'd never do that, she loved him too much.”

“But she loved you just as much.”

“What?”

“When you were ten she found out that Dad used you in one of his cons. I'm sure you don't remember. It was all just a game to you, but when your mom found out, she was furious. She divorced Dad and made him promise never to contact either one of you again.”

“What?” she said, totally stunned by the confession.

“He went back into the life. That's when Lincoln caught him. Dad made me promise never to tell you why he left. He didn't want you angry with your mom and coming to him. He knew this life was wrong and he already had one child in the game. He didn't want you there, too. He was protecting you and so was your mother.”

Samantha started crying. As far back as she could remember she'd loved and hated her father for walking out and leaving them. Now to learn that it was all because he was protecting her…

“Samantha,” Jefferson said softly. She didn't answer. “Samantha,” he repeated.

“I can't believe this,” she sobbed. “It was all my fault. I told Mom what we did that day, how we played the game with the man and his wife. I thought she'd be proud of me.”

“It wasn't your fault, lollipop. You didn't know. We were all just protecting you.”

Jefferson went silent for a moment. “Samantha Lee,” he began, using the rarity of her full name. “I never expected any of this to happen, for you to get involved. I promised Dad that I would never allow you near any of this, but I needed someone I could trust and someone who knew how to get into Cooperman's computer.”

“So that's the whole job. What's in the computer?”

“Files to help Rachel and Grant.”

“I should have known, family is forever. You needed to help Rachel and Grant and getting Cooperman can do it.”

“Can you still do this?” he asked.

“Yes, and I'll make you proud.”

“I know you will. Did you get everything you need?”

“I have a bit more to work to do,” she said, “but I'll be ready when the time comes.”

“Good. I'll check on you in the morning. Till then relax and enjoy the night. It's almost over.”

Closing the phone, she hung up. The tears, still moist on her face, reminded her of everything she'd ever hoped for. Family is forever. Everyone had protected her and now it was time for her to give back. Putting her drama with Eric aside, she dried her tears and collected herself, focusing on what she needed to do, protect Jefferson from Lincoln and protect Jackson from Cooperman. Their futures rested on her and she wasn't about to fail them.

T
en minutes later she went back downstairs, not at all surprised to see Jackson waiting for her. She saw that he was sitting on the sofa in the living room with a glass, just staring into the fireplace. Her heart pounded with each step she took. She came down slowly, holding on to the banister with each descending step. He looked up at her approach. Looking around, she walked over to the sofa.

“She's gone,” he assured her.

“I didn't mean to interrupt.”

“Don't worry about it.”

“I get the distinct feeling that she doesn't care for me much,” she said sarcastically.

“Shauna doesn't care for a lot of people, least of all herself. Would you like some brandy?” he offered.

“No, thank you,” she said, then sat down on the other end of the sofa and curled up, tucking her feet beneath her. “Jackson, make no mistake. When this is over I am leaving.”

He nodded once with a knowing smile that seemed to suggest differently.

“And us, together,” she said, “this attraction, isn't going to change that. We're attracted to each other, yes, we made love, yes, but this is business, too. Each of us has something to lose and I don't intend to let that happen.”

He nodded again. “What did Eric say?”

“He told me what he planned to do.”

“Just like that?” he asked.

“Eric has an ego equal only to the size of his paranoia. Push the right buttons and he'll tell you everything.”

“And you pushed the right buttons?”

“Yes. As I said, he's paranoid, so I fed the paranoia.”

Jackson looked at her as if for the first time. He realized that she had skills beyond what even he had imagined. She apparently knew what she was doing. Getting information from Eric was the last thing he had expected. But she had done it. “What's his plan?”

She outlined exactly what Eric had said, detailing each move. He asked questions and she answered to the best of her knowledge. “Sounds too easy,” he finally said.

“Most cons are. With easy you never see it coming.”

“How can he guarantee that George will keep his end of the bargain?”

“That's the sad part. He actually thinks that he's got it all figured out. But he's forgotten one very important part.”

“What's that?”

“Greed.”

“What?”

“All three men want something out of this. Eric wants the money and probably the credibility of pulling off this con. Cooperman is greedy, he wants it all. He's obviously not going to stop at just getting a piece of the company, he's gonna want it all. Everything in his past points to that.”

“And Lincoln, what does he want?”

“I don't know,” she lied, deciding not to tell him about her conversation with Jefferson. “But it certainly isn't the justice he claims. He's definitely a wild card in all this.”

“They'll all double-cross each other?” Jackson said.

She nodded. “More than likely. Awkward and clumsy gets you caught. The perfect con has two things—a contingency plan and a clean exit. Eric doesn't think that far ahead. Sometimes it's not all about the score.”

“Because everybody has an angle to work,” Jackson said. “That sounds so cynical.”

“But true.”

“How exactly does it happen, a con I mean?”

“A mark is chosen, a seemingly respectable businessman with deep pockets, someone easily susceptible to greed. He's lured into thinking that he's getting something for nothing. Tempted, he usually take the bait. The con man earns trust with a small test of faith, a convincer, a small bit of cash to prove that whatever is failsafe. Then a bigger test is played, and they lose. Afterward there's the blow off and the con walks away.”

“What about the mark, when he goes to the police?”

“It's called beefed. And no, seldom do marks talk. Embarrassment, ego, whatever, no one wants to admit they've been greedy and conned no matter how much is involved. It's all about credibility. You can't complain to the police that you gave someone money, particularly if sometimes that money shouldn't even exist.”

“And your father and brother were good.”

“They were more into the high-end long cons, particularly my brother. But yes, they were good, very good. They weren't called con artists for no reason. It's like an art form. You have to think on your feet while persuading in such a way as to give the illusion that it isn't your idea.

“My brother was the ultimate chameleon. His setups were always precise, he researched and covered all the angles, his game was clever and he always walked away clean with no one having the slightest clue that they were even conned.”

“That sounds so impossible.”

“He's the perfect strategist.”

“Except the last time,” Jackson said. “You don't believe Lincoln, do you, about your brother not retiring?”

“No.”

“Then where is he?”

“Let's just say that the cards haven't all been played just yet,” she said, smiling happily.

Jackson shook his head. “You're not a poker player, are you?”

“Actually I am, and a very good poker player at that. I learned from the best.”

“You obviously don't bluff well, I can see right through you.”

“We're not paying poker, are we?”

Jackson smiled. “Dealer's choice?”

“You're on.”

He got up and went into the family room off the kitchen and returned with two decks of cards.

“Two decks?” she questioned, seeing him open the two separate packages.

“To make it more interesting, of course,” he said.

“Of course.”

He dropped the empty packages and jokers on the far side of the table, then shuffled the cards as he sat down. He continued thoroughly shuffling the decks. When he was satisfied he placed the decks on the coffee table for her to cut. Brand new and slippery, cards were awkwardly dropping off the table and flying into the air.

“Oops, sorry,” she said. He helped her gather and collect the mess. “What are we playing, Texas hold 'em, five card stud, draw…?” she asked, completing the cut.

“How about strip?” he asked, confidently smiling.

“I think you have an unfair advantage, you have more clothes on.”

“I'll be happy to even the playing field.”

“No, I'll take my chances,” she said nicely.

He dealt out five cards and the game began. She lost the first hand and removed a high-heel shoe. She lost the second game and the other shoe. By the third game Jackson was feeling extremely confident. He dealt himself a pair of jacks and a high ten. Eagerly anticipating Samantha's disrobement he placed his cards down on the table with a smug smile.

She placed her cards down. She had two queens and a jack.

He removed his jacket.

Seven hands later she'd collected both shoes, both socks, shirt, belt and pants. “You look chilly,” she said, smiling innocently as he dealt again.

“Don't try to distract me. What do you have?”

Still fully dressed, she laid down her third full house in a row. Her pleasant smile drew his gasp.

“That's impossible,” he said, putting his small pair down on the table. “I deal and you get three full-house hands in a row, that's impossible.”

“Are you accusing me of cheating at cards just to see you naked?”

Jackson smiled. “The thought had crossed my mind.”

She smiled innocently. “Shorts, please.”

He stood up, grabbed a throw pillow from the sofa and positioned it securely in front of himself as he pulled down and removed his shorts.

“You can't be embarrassed. It's not like I've never seen you naked before.”

He sat down and shuffled the cards, making sure that they could not be tampered with. He set them down in front of her and waited for her inevitably clumsy cut. But this time her cut was perfect. It was too perfect. With one hand she cut the cards while chuckling at his stunned expression. He was astonished. She'd been playing him from the beginning.

“Nice tie,” she said, indicating that she intended to have his tie on the next hand.

The hand played out. He won. Knowing that she'd manipulated the outcome of each hand, he assumed that she'd lost on purpose. Samantha stood up and slipped her hands beneath her evening dress and removed her lace panties, adding them to the pile of clothes already on the floor.

The game had taken a seductive slant.

“You deal this time,” he said, sliding the cards over to her.

She picked them up and began a recitation of shuffling and hand manipulations that would have amazed the kings of Las Vegas. Jackson sat back, astonished by her skill. “Winner take all,” she said as she dealt. He nodded his agreement. As each card was dispersed, their eyes stayed focused on each other. She finished dealing and set the pile down between them.

He picked up his cards, assessed them and pulled two out for replacements. With one finger she slid two cards from the top of the deck across the table to him. He picked them up and placed them in his hand.

“No cards for you?” he asked.

“I'll play what I have.”

Knowing that she must have dealt herself a winning hand, he placed his cards facedown on the table and stood up reaching out to her. She took his hand and stood in front of him, then took his protruding pillow and tossed it back onto the sofa. The result of their poker game on his body was evident.

“I know another game,” he said as his mouth came to hers, kissing her completely and feeling her return embrace. She wrapped her arms around his body, feeling his firm muscles. She rested her hands on his buttocks, and his kiss deepened, devouring her as his tongue intertwined with hers.

With ease he released the one hindrance between them, letting her evening dress fall to the Persian carpet on the hardwood floors. They stood naked and open, each giving the other what they needed.

He kissed her neck and shoulders, then trailed kisses down to her breasts. Pert and taut, they beckoned to him and he greedily captured each, one with his hand and the other with his mouth. As he suckled, his fingers tweaked the small nipple to a pout. She gasped and his other hand held her rear and pressed her to his face.

As he knelt down before her, his hands came up to her waist adoringly. He held her still as he closed his eyes and rested the side of his face on the flat of her stomach. She reached down to caress him. In that place, in that position, they stayed for a time.

“I can't let you go,” he whispered.

“You have to,” she said, looking down while stroking the tips of his earlobes. He looked up at her. “But we have tonight.”

He shook his head. “Not good enough.”

“It's all we have.” She sat down on the sofa, pulling him toward her. They kissed, promising a sweet surrender. “Do you have any…”

“Yes, upstairs in my bedroom.” He stood and took her hand. Together they walked up to the second floor. She turned and stopped at the guest bedroom as he continued to the master bedroom. He turned, puzzled. “Would you like to join me in the master bedroom?” he asked.

“No,” she said. Jackson looked stunned as she smiled. “Would you like to join me in the guest bedroom?”

He smiled, nodding. “I'll be right there,” he promised.

Samantha opened the guest-bedroom doors and walked over to the bed. She pulled the covers back and eased between the cool sheets. Her naked body quivered more from anticipation of Jackson's arrival than the slight chill of the cotton. She closed her eyes and laid her head back, hoping to remember every second of this evening.

Moments later, Jackson came in. She opened her eyes. He smiled and the butterflies in her stomach danced a new dance. The sight of his naked body thrilled her. Every inch of him was divine, he was simply magnificent.

His body was artistically chiseled as every muscle defined strength and power. Tight abs rippled at his stomach as cast-iron biceps and triceps encircled his arms. He held a bottle of champagne and two glasses in one hand and several condoms in the other. A quick shiver sped through her again as an open smile welcomed him.

Jackson stopped and just stood there looking at her. Seeing her lying in the bed waiting for him felt so right. There was no way he intended to let her walk out of his life, not now, not ever. “You look so beautiful lying there like that,” he said.

She chuckled. “Hey, I'm lying here butt naked. You don't have to flatter me, I'm pretty much a sure thing at this point.”

Jackson laughed. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I have a few ideas,” she joked.

“Do you?” he asked playfully. She nodded. Jackson licked his lips. He knew that he wanted this, he wanted her, every night for the rest of his life. “Do you have any idea what you do to me, Samantha Lee Taylor?”