Sensual Confessions (13 page)

But that was the thing. Even after realizing he wasn’t wearing a condom, he hadn’t wanted to pull out. He had wanted to stay in, ease deeper inside of her, feel her wetness claim him, her feminine juices saturate his erection, and press into her deeper and deeper.

She hadn’t minded when he’d spread her luscious thighs wide. And she hadn’t minded being taken—or almost taken—right there in her living room. He liked a woman who didn’t believe lovemaking had to be confined to the bedroom. Where was it written that the bedroom was the only place two people could make love? The thought of that was so damn boring.

Hell, he’d had lots of plans for Sam tonight. The moment he’d walked into her house and saw that her place was just like his, a number of erotic scenarios had danced through his mind. He had thought about taking her on the kitchen table, in the sauna and in that damned hot tub she had tempted him with last night.

But things didn’t quite work out that way. Instead, after getting him all hot and bothered, she had sent him packing with a damn smirk on her face. What she’d pulled
tonight was unforgivable in his book, and just as he’d told her, it would be best for the both of them if they made it a point to avoid each other.

“Y
ou okay, Blade?”

Blade glanced across the table at his cousin Reese. There was no way he would tell him that no, he wasn’t okay. He’d gone to bed mad and had awakened that morning even madder. What was worse, he had gone to bed with a hard-on and had awakened with a bigger hard-on. It had taken a couple of cold showers to make his erection go down. The mere thought of how Sam had deliberately played him was something he had yet to get over, and he doubted if he ever would.

“Blade?”

He blinked and noticed both Luke and Reese were staring at him. “Yes?”

“I asked if something was wrong. You don’t seem like yourself today,” Reese said.

He shrugged. “You’re imagining things.”

The three of them had met for breakfast, and afterward,
they would return to Luke’s ranch and help him with moving some furniture around. Mac had decided she wanted to redecorate, and now with the three additional bedrooms, a massive family room and a spacious kitchen that he and Slade’s crew had added on six months ago, what used to be a small ranch house had become a sprawling home with a lot of room for a larger family. It wouldn’t surprise Blade, when Mama Laverne talked about fish again, that the fishing rod would be aimed straight at Luke and Mac.

He glanced over at Luke to find him staring at him. “You sure you’re okay, Blade?” he asked.

“I’m positive.”

“Then where were you last night?” Luke asked. “Slade was trying to reach you.”

Blade chuckled. “I wasn’t lost. I was out. And when I returned I didn’t check my messages. I called him this morning.” He took a sip of his coffee and asked, “Is there a law that says I have to be home at all times?”

“No.”

“Okay, then.”

“Kind of touchy today, aren’t you? If I didn’t know better I would think you needed to get laid or something,” Reese said with a grin on his face.

Blade didn’t see a damn thing funny about it, mainly because he
did
need to get laid—and in a bad way. He’d never gone without sex this long and all because of one woman. How screwed up was that?

He opened his mouth, ready to give his cousin the scathing response he deserved, but Luke interrupted, eager to keep the peace. “The rodeo school is looking good, Blade.”

Blade’s frown turned into a smile. He always appreciated compliments about the work that he and Slade’s
company did, and Luke of all people knew it. “Thanks. According to Townsend, the last coat of paint will be hitting the walls next week. The only thing left will be landscaping. Any idea when the horses will arrive? I want the corral and the new barn ready before they’re delivered.”

Just the mention of horses got Luke talking, and Blade was grateful for the distraction. He could nod and feign interest while his mind wandered to other things—namely Samari Di Meglio.

He had gotten very little sleep last night. The worst thing he could have done was to let her mouth touch him. Even now he was getting excruciatingly hard just thinking about it. Women had gone down on him before, but never in the way she had. It was quite obvious she was a novice at that sort of thing. He could even believe that she’d never done it before. Her lack of experience had showed, but it hadn’t been felt. As far as he was concerned, no pro could have done it better. There had been something about the way she had taken him in her hands, and later with her mouth, and applied the perfect amount of pressure and—

“Blade, you’re daydreaming again.”

He met Luke’s gaze. “Am I?”

“Yes. Reese has been asking you a question for the last five minutes.”

Of course, he knew Luke was exaggerating. He cut his eyes over to Reese. “Sorry. What was your question?”

Reese grinned again and Blade was tempted to knock that silly smirk off his lips. “I asked if you were headed back to Houston for the party Jake and Diamond are hosting for Rasheed and his wife this weekend.”

“Yes, I’ll be there.”

He would leave for Houston on Friday. The women in Houston knew how to treat a man. They didn’t play games
or seek revenge. They weren’t teases. They weren’t player haters. “What about you?” he asked Reese. “When do you take over Trevor’s old job?”

Reese smiled. “In a couple of months. Trevor is finalizing the projects he started. And yes, I’m headed back to Houston. In fact, I’m leaving here on Thursday to swing by Austin to get Kenna. She’s going to the party with me.”

Blade nodded and didn’t say anything, but after taking a sip of his coffee, he decided to ask, “Has it ever occurred to you that if you ever get married, your wife probably won’t take too kindly to the fact that your best friend is a woman?”

Reese leaned back in his chair. “Nope, mainly because I’d never marry a woman who didn’t get along with Kenna. Would you marry someone who didn’t get along with Tanner and Wyatt?”

Blade frowned. It wasn’t the same and Reese damn well knew it. “Since I don’t ever plan to marry I can’t answer that question,” he said.

“Well, I do plan to marry one of these days, although no time soon, and I would never consider marrying someone who couldn’t accept my relationship with Kenna,” Reese said. “And vice versa. She would never marry someone who could not accept her relationship with me.”

Blade shook his head and decided to play devil’s advocate. “And you know this for certain?”

“Yes. We’ve discussed it. Everyone has a best friend. I’m a man who just happens to have one that’s a woman. No big deal.”

In Blade’s book it was a big deal. But if Reese and Kenna were convinced it wasn’t, then who was he to argue? He glanced over at Luke. “Are you ready for us to leave and get started on your place?”

Luke nodded. “Yes. I promised Mac that when she got
home this evening I’d have at least one room finished. And you never make Mac a promise you don’t intend to keep.”

Sam had a drowsy look on her face from a sleepless night when she walked into the office. The first person she saw after passing through Security was Patsy, who was leaving the building.

The young woman smiled at Sam. “More flowers came for you today and there’s a card with them,” she said excitedly. “I saw the florist bring them in.”

Sam gave her a slight smile and nodded as she made her way toward the reception area. Priscilla glanced up when she saw her and smiled. “More flowers arrived today, Ms. Di Meglio, and there’s a card with them.”

“Thank you, Priscilla,” she said as she made her way down the hall toward her office. Everyone was more interested in her secret admirer than she was. In fact, she was still trying to get over Blade’s statement last night that he hadn’t been sending them. All this time she’d actually thought he was.

Thoughts of Blade were still in her mind and had been since last night. After he’d left her place she had picked up every condom packet off the floor and placed them in a drawer in her bedroom. She had actually counted them—thirty in all. Had he honestly thought he would use even half that number?

She rolled her eyes, thinking, yes, he probably had. If he would have had his way, he would have humped her all night and she would have enjoyed every minute of it.

She drew in a deep breath at her sensual confession. Chances were she would have gone to sleep totally relaxed, sated and satisfied. Instead, she had slid between the sheets tense, annoyed and obsessing about what she
could have had—and all in the name of revenge. Whoever said getting even was sweet hadn’t met the likes of Blade Madaris.

She opened the door to her office and her gaze immediately went to the huge arrangement sitting in the middle of her desk. These flowers were more beautiful than all the others had been, and whoever was sending them certainly had great taste. But the ones Blade had given her last night had these beat.

She walked around the desk and pulled out the drawer to put her purse inside. Then glanced up to see Peyton and Mac standing in the doorway. “We heard the flowers came with a card this time,” Mac said with a huge grin on her face.

Sam rolled her sleepy eyes. “Evidently the entire office has heard about it,” she said, sitting down behind her desk and leaning back in her chair, thinking she could certainly use a good eight hours’ worth of sleep.

“Boy, you look tired,” Peyton said, laughing. “Didn’t you get any sleep last night?”

Sam glared at her friend. “Don’t mess with me, Mahoney. I’m so
not
in a good mood.”

Mac crossed her arms over her chest. “And why aren’t you in a good mood, Sam? I thought you had a date with Blade. Didn’t things go the way you had planned?”

Sam refused to answer that. Instead she snatched the card off the flowers. “I know the only reason the two of you are here is because you’re dying to know who’s been sending me flowers.”

“Like you don’t already know,” Peyton said smartly, as she stepped into the office and took a chair across from Sam’s desk.

“I thought I knew, but I found out last night it wasn’t Blade.”

Mac rolled her eyes. “You actually thought they were
from him?” she said, closing the door and then taking the chair next to the one Peyton occupied. “According to Luke, Blade never gives women flowers,” she added.

Sam decided not to say anything about the fact that he had given her a beautiful arrangement last night. Instead she opened the small envelope and pulled out the card and read it.

Sam reread the card, certain that what she’d read was meant to be a joke. But she couldn’t stop the uneasy feeling that was running through her mind and the sweaty palms of her hands. She dropped the card on her desk and glanced over at Peyton and Mac in shock.

“Sam, are you all right?” Peyton asked, getting out of her chair. “What did the card say?”

Sam opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t. Instead she shoved it toward them. Mac picked up the card. Mac and Peyton read it together and she could hear the expletives coming from Peyton’s mouth.

“What the f—is going on? Who the hell is making a threat like this? Is this some kind of sick joke?”

“Peyton, calm down,” Mac said, as her eyes remained glued to Sam. “Sam, do you have any idea who could have been sending you these flowers?”

Sam, still unable to speak, only shook her head. She didn’t have a clue. She watched as Mac then picked up the phone on her desk and began dialing. “Yes, Detective Adams, this is Mackenzie Standfield Madaris, and you’re needed over to my office immediately.”

Luke handed the bottles of beer to Reese and Blade. “Thanks, guys, you deserve these. I didn’t know Mac had so much stuff to move from the attic.”

The phone rang and Luke reached over, checked the caller ID, smiled and picked it up. “Hello, sweetheart.”

Blade and Reese watched as the smile on his face turned to anger. “When?” Then moments later he asked, “Did you call the police?”

Luke pulled in a deep breath as he stood up, already grabbing his car keys from his jeans pocket. “That’s fine, I’m on my way.” He hung up the phone.

“What’s going on, Luke?” Reese asked, with concern in his voice.

“That was Mac. The person who’s been sending Sam flowers for the past six weeks finally sent a card with them today, with a death threat.”

“What!” Blade was out of the chair, almost knocking it over. “Are these the same flowers Sam thought I was sending her?”

Luke raised a brow as he grabbed his Stetson off the hat rack. “I wasn’t aware she thought
you
were the one sending those flowers.”

“She mentioned it last night and I assured her they weren’t from me,” Blade said, hot on Luke’s heels as he headed for the door. Reese quickly followed Blade.

“Well, according to Mac, the card Sam got with the delivery today wasn’t pretty, and said something about her days being numbered,” Luke said over his shoulder as he headed for the truck. “And the two of you don’t have to go with me. Hopefully, I won’t be long.”

“I’m going,” Reese said, already opening the door and climbing inside the backseat of Luke’s truck.

“And don’t think for one minute I’m not going, too,”
Blade all but snarled, feeling more protective of a woman than he’d ever felt before. The same woman he’d convinced himself just last night that he didn’t want to cross paths with ever again. “If it involves Sam, then I’m going.”

Luke glanced over at him and nodded. “Fine.”

Blade took in a deep breath as he opened the door and got in the front seat. Why he felt the need to see for himself that Sam was okay, he wasn’t sure. He would figure out the reason why later.

D
uring the last thirty minutes, Sam’s attitude had gone from shock to anger and then fury, evident from her use of some of Peyton’s colorful expletives, which at one point had begun flowing from her mouth as if they were an everyday part of her vocabulary.

Now she had calmed down—somewhat. She had managed to prove that her temper at its best would put even her father to shame. How dare someone send her flowers for six weeks, only to inform her that now her days were numbered? The man had to be a lowlife, a scoundrel, an asshole.

“And you’re sure you have no idea who could have sent you these flowers or why they want to threaten your life, Ms. Di Meglio?”

Sam glanced across the room. For a while she’d forgotten the detective had been sitting in the extra chair Priscilla had brought into her office. She’d also forgotten that
Mac and Peyton were still in her office, as well. Everyone was sitting there and staring at her.

She drew in a deep breath and returned the detective’s intense gaze. She had met him a year and a half ago, when he had been investigating the trouble involving Mac. “No, Detective Adams, I have no idea who’s behind those flowers and—”

At that moment her office door flew open and Sam saw Blade standing in front of her, bigger than life. Over his shoulder, she could see Luke and Reese standing behind him. The look on Blade’s face was fierce, almost lethal. Detective Adams had been quick, and was already on his feet with his gun drawn.

“Wait!” three female voices said at once, although Sam’s was the loudest.

It was only when Luke pushed passed Blade that Detective Adams recognized him and put his gun back in his holster and straightened his jacket. “I would suggest you knock the next time,” Adams said, offering Luke his hand.

Luke grinned as he shook hands with the man. “It wasn’t my idea to burst in like that. That’s my cousin Blade. He’s sort of a hothead at times. And this is my brother Reese.”

Sam sat back down in her chair, trying to get her heart rate back to normal, as she stared across the room at Blade. She’d known he was with Luke when Mac had called, because Mac had mentioned it. But considering everything, she hadn’t expected him to come.

Her gaze moved past him to Reese. She’d only seen him a few times since the wedding, and she thought there was no mistaking him and Luke for brothers, since they favored each other quite a bit. Like Luke, Reese was a very handsome man.

But no one, she thought, letting her gaze shift back to
Blade, was more handsome than the man staring back at her, even when he was mad. And yes, he was mad, but she couldn’t tell if he was angry at her or the situation that she found herself in.

“I was just asking Ms. Di Meglio a few questions so I can decide how to proceed, since she prefers that I not alert the police yet. So for now, I’m working this case privately.”

“Why don’t you want the police involved?” Blade asked her, as if he had every right to know.

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him it was none of his business what she did, but for some reason she couldn’t do that. “I prefer that my parents not know about this,” she said. “And for now, until we find out if there is a legitimate threat, I want as few people to know about it as possible.”

He nodded and then leaned against a wall. There was a knock on the door and Priscilla brought in more chairs and left, closing the door behind her.

Everyone sat except for Blade. It seemed he preferred standing, bracing himself against the wall, directly in her line of vision. She tried focusing her eyes on Detective Adams instead of on him.

“Now then, we can continue,” Detective Adams said. “And before we do I need to make sure you’re comfortable with everyone here.”

She drew in a deep breath. Although Blade was probably the last person she should have felt comfortable with, considering their history, she said, “Yes, I’m fine.”

“All right then. I was asking if you have any idea who could have sent you those flowers with the card.”

She shook her head. “I have no idea.”

“And just how long have you been getting the flowers?” he then asked.

“About six weeks. They were delivered once a week, every Wednesday.”

“Uh, they arrived a day early this week,” Detective Adams said, as if making an observation.

Sam glanced over at Blade. The card had been passed around and now he was reading it. She could feel the anger raging in him. It was hard to believe his rage was directed toward her assailant and not her.

“So why didn’t you contact the police when the flowers started coming?”

She shifted her gaze from Blade back to Detective Adams, who was watching her closely. “I saw no reason to.”

“And why not?”

She frowned. The man was asking a lot of questions and she had to remind herself that he was merely doing his job. She met his inquisitive gaze. “Because I thought I knew who was sending them.”

“And who did you think was sending them?”

“Really, Detective Adams,” she said, giving him an exasperated look. “Do you need to know all that?”

“If you want me to help you stay alive.”

“Yes, but—”

“I’m the one she thought was sending her the flowers,” Blade said, in a voice that was deep and controlled.

Sam glanced over at him, as did everyone else in the room, including Detective Adams. He studied Blade and it was easy to tell he was sizing him up, seeing him in a whole new light. Now as a possible suspect.

“But you didn’t send them?” the detective asked, his penetrating stare trained directly on Blade.

Blade stared right back. His eyes were just as unwavering. “No, I didn’t send them.”

“And you have no idea who did?”

“No,” he stated firmly.

Detective Adams nodded before glancing back at Sam. “Do you have any reason not to believe him?”

Sam looked at Blade and studied his features, got caught up in the eyes staring back at her. Although he’d come, he was still mad. He hadn’t gotten over the stunt she’d pulled last night. And in a way she probably had hurt him. Probably not emotionally, but for most men their ego was just as real as any living thing. It could easily get bruised. And then there was male pride that could be just as easily wounded. She had pretty much trampled on both. She had tried to play him the way he’d played others. Sooner or later he would try getting back at her, she had no doubt of that. But he wouldn’t try it this way. He wouldn’t stoop that low.

“Ms. Di Meglio?”

She blinked and looked back at Detective Adams. “Yes?”

“I asked if you had any reason not to believe Mr. Madaris.” He smiled, remembering there were three of them in the room, and added, “Blade Madaris.”

She shook her head. “No, there’s no reason not to believe him.” She then chuckled and said, “He might think he wants to wring my neck about now, but he would never intentionally hurt me.”

“And you know that for sure?”

She pulled in a deep breath, refusing to acknowledge Blade’s presence, and responded to the detective’s question. “Yes, I know that for certain.”

The muscles in Blade’s neck knotted, and it had taken all he had not to hit something after reading the card that had come with the flowers. Who in the hell had sent it to her? Evidently it was the same person who’d been
sending her the other flowers for six weeks. A secret admirer, so she’d thought. She had been damn wrong about that. And she had been wrong in assuming it had been him.

Detective Adams was still asking her some routine questions. She was answering them, but already Blade’s mind was focused on what she wasn’t telling the officer. As far as he was concerned, there were a number of men who could have put her at the top of their shit list, if what she’d claimed last night was true. She was a player hater who took pride in seeking revenge. In his book that wasn’t a reason to want to bump her off, but there were a lot of people walking around who were not playing with a full deck.

Detective Adams stood and closed his writing pad. “I plan to contact the florist. I know you said the flowers were ordered over the Internet. Still, there’s a way for us to track a credit-card payment.”

“So what should she do now?” Mac asked.

“Watch her back,” the detective replied quickly. “I know you already have a security team set up here and that’s good. You might want them to make sure no one gets through unless they have appointments, and I suggest that you don’t work late for a while. Leave when everyone else leaves, and if you do work late have one of the security guards walk you to your car. And you might want to—”

“Hold up. Time out,” Blade interrupted. “There may be a lunatic on the loose, trying to kill her and for now it’s going to be business as usual?”

Detective Adams turned to Blade. “Basically yes, since she refuses to have us make a big deal out of it. We can’t get fingerprints off the card, since practically everyone’s hand has been on it.”

Detective Adams then turned to Sam. “Where do you live?”

“Windsor Park.”

It was obvious from his expression that he was familiar with the complex and impressed. “That’s a good place to live. It’s a gated community, almost like a fortress. I don’t know the last time anyone from the police department had to respond to a crime there. They have an excellent security system set up. The president would be safe there without the Secret Service, they’re that good.”

“Yes, but she isn’t in that gated community twenty-four hours a day,” Peyton said. “She will be pretty secure here and at home, but what about the distance in between?”

Detective Adams shrugged his shoulders. “If she doesn’t want police protection, I suggest she hire a bodyguard.”

Moments after Detective Adams left, everyone in Sam’s office sat around staring at the vase of flowers on her desk. How could something so beautiful carry such an ugly message?

Still, the flowers were pretty, a mix of fresh roses, sunflowers, lilies, daisy poms and other varieties Sam couldn’t name, and all beautifully arranged inside a green glass vase. There was nothing about the flowers that would indicate the person who’d sent them was devious rather than thoughtful.

Sam checked her watch and then pushed back from her desk to stand. She didn’t want to look at the flowers any longer. “I’m going out to grab some lunch,” she said.

Five pairs of eyes shifted to her and stared. She put her arms across her chest. “Don’t any of you even think it.”

“And what do you think we’re thinking?” Luke asked.

She lifted her chin. “That one of you, possibly all of you, intend to be my shadow.”

“And you have a problem with that?” Blade asked.

Sam’s gaze slowly moved to him. He was glaring at her and she glared right back. She couldn’t help the cynical smile that touched her lips. “What’s in this for you, Blade? We’re not exactly bosom buddies. In fact, the last time we talked we decided that we don’t even like each other, especially after last night.”

Too late she’d realized she had said the wrong thing, and quickly wondered why she’d said it at all. She had wanted to strike out at something and he was an easy target. The dark eyes staring at her became darker and his jaw tightened. His hands were opening and closing in tight fists, and she wondered if he’d decided to wring her neck, after all.

He slowly turned to the others and said in a rather calm voice, “Excuse us a moment. Sam and I need to have a private conversation.”

It was on the tip on her tongue to say no, they didn’t need to have anything, but then she changed her mind. It was best to get it over and done with now. She’d thought last night was the end of things, but apparently it wasn’t.

None of the others, she noted, seemed inclined to hang back. Luke, however, leaned over and whispered in Blade’s ear, but loud enough for everyone to hear, “Hey, man. Go easy on her. Remember, until they catch this guy you’re still a suspect.”

Blade’s eyes sharpened, but hers rolled. She was glad when Mac all but shoved him out the door. When the door closed behind them, Sam decided to sit back down in her chair. If Blade wanted to stand during their confrontation, that was his business.

“So, what do we have to talk about?” she asked.

He didn’t say anything for a long while. He just stood there and stared at her.

“Well, I’m waiting and I don’t have all day, Blade.”

She knew she was goading him again, deliberately being a pain in the ass. But for some reason she couldn’t help it. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Last night should have been the last she’d seen of him, at least for a good while. He was a player and she had played him. He was supposed to hate her guts. He should be spitting on the ground she walked on, or better yet, sticking pins in a voodoo doll that bore her likeness.

But instead he was here. He had all but burst into her office like a madman, as if he was a former lover or even her current one. The entire time Detective Adams sat asking her questions, he’d stood across the room, propped against the wall with his eyes glued to her.

“Why didn’t you tell Detective Adams everything, Sam?”

She logged off her computer and then turned and looked at him. “Everything like what?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Like how you like getting your kicks as a player hater by playing guys. Did you ever think doing that kind of crap might catch up to you one day? Did it ever cross your mind that somewhere along the way you might have pissed some guy off big-time?”

She rolled her eyes, something she’d found herself doing a lot around him. “Hey, Blade, it’s not that serious. Does every woman you dump come gunning for you?”

He came around the desk and pulled back her chair and then pinned her in with his arms braced on both sides. He leaned down, in her face, and nailed her with his gaze, as if he wanted to make sure he had her absolute attention.

“How many times do I have to tell you that the women
I get involved with know the score?” he said in a clipped tone. “I don’t play those kinds of games with women. They know what I want from them. They also know what I don’t want, which is a commitment of any kind. And if they somehow get it into their heads that they can change me along the way, then it’s their fault for thinking it and not mine. Not all players are dogs, so don’t blame me for what some other guy did to you, Sam. I don’t appreciate it and I won’t accept it.”