SAM JUMPED SO high she was surprised she didn’t give herself a concussion on the ceiling. Her eyes flew open to where Adam leaned against the door a few feet away. Hands thrust into the pockets of his black scrub pants, he looked casual and relaxed. She hadn’t heard him enter, but then again the entire fifth battalion could have entered guns blazing and she wouldn’t have heard anything over the wave of panic rushing over her.
She lifted a shaky hand to press against her racing heart and hoped he couldn’t hear it flopping around in her chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Despite her denial, memories of the night they’d spent together assaulted her and she suddenly wanted to thrust her hands into all that cool black hair and pull his mouth to hers. Or maybe slide them beneath his black scrub top so she could feel those fabulous satin-covered abs.
Aghast that she was imagining stripping him naked, Sam stayed where she was and eyed him warily. He looked even better than she remembered and that bothered her because she’d remembered plenty.
For long moments, they studied each other until Sam pushed away from the wall, annoyed that she was letting old insecurities surface. She went straight to the vanity counter, hoping the distance would clear her head.
“My name is Samantha.”
One dark brow arched up his tanned forehead. “Uh-huh and was that just for the benefit of the board members or are you really going to pretend we haven’t met? That you have a twin somewhere in Frisco who looks exactly like you,” he murmured, his eyes sliding across her face. “Right down to the freckles sprinkled across your nose?”
“Freckles?” she gasped in outrage, totally forgetting that she’d decided to pretend they’d never met. “I do not have any freckles.”
“Wanna bet?” he challenged softly. “There are fourteen across your nose, five on your—” His gaze dropped to the reflection of her breasts in the mirror, causing the breath to back up in her lungs when her nipples tightened. “A dozen scattered down your back and three on the inside of your right thigh.” He reached out to run a teasing finger slowly, tortuously, down the length of her spine, scattering her senses and sending goose bumps stampeding across her skin, racing down the center of her back to the base of her spine. “I know,” he murmured wickedly, “because I tasted every one of them.”
Heat spread outward at the careless sensuality of that caress but she suppressed it. “N-not everyone is lucky enough to have s-skin that doesn’t blemish in the sun,” she managed to say through the rush of sensation.
He stilled, and for a moment she thought she’d offended him, but then he leaned forward to blow on her neck. And heck if her scalp didn’t prickle along with the soles of her feet. For an instant, she wondered if her hair was smoldering, but a quick glance assured her she was still Samantha Jefferies, cool and elegantly professional.
Except for the wild flush staining her cheekbones, wide eyes and dilated pupils. Oh, God, she thought spinning around to avoid the truth staring back at her. But when she found him close enough to feel the heat pumping off him like a nuclear reactor, she wondered at the wisdom of the move because he was so close she could see each individual speck of gold glinting behind the thick fringe of sooty lashes that drooped over his shimmering eyes. Eyes that abruptly reminded her of a stalking lion.
Her pulse jolted, because that’s exactly what he’d been doing. All through the meeting, he’d watched her watching him, and once it was over, he’d subtly stalked her from one group to the next until the only thing left was to escape into the ladies’ room.
“What are you doing here, Adam?” she demanded, attempting to infuse her voice with cool outrage and cursing inwardly when it emerged husky and breathless instead.
Amusement came and went in his expression, infuriating her because he was too close, too disturbing, too—everything. She lifted her hands to his chest, intending to push him back a couple of inches but it was like moving a boulder.
“This is the ladies’ room,” she pointed out, ignoring the heat seeping into her palms and spreading up her arms; ignoring the very basic need to spread her fingers and feel all those amazingly hard planes and dips. “And the last time I checked, you don’t qualify.”
“So,” he murmured, taking advantage of their proximity to toy with her earring. “You admit there was a last time, that you were the woman in Room 2014 who used her tongue to—”
“Stop!” she interrupted on a breathless squeak when she recalled exactly what she’d been inspired to do. Dammit, she was never mixing shooters and champagne again because that was the only explanation for the things she’d done that night. “Okay, so maybe I let you um...think my name was Amanda, but only because I never expected to see you again and didn’t think it mattered.”
His eyes darkened. “You don’t think it matters to a man that he knows the name he groans whilst buried deep inside of that woman’s body?”
She felt her core shudder at the memory of him doing just that in a voice so deep and rough her body instantly heated and melted in anticipation. “I...um—it does?”
His hands dropped to her hips and he tugged her against him, the move—and the feel of his substantial erection—leaving her in no doubt about what he meant. “Why don’t we put it to the test, hmm?” he murmured, dropping his head to feather his lips along the soft underside of her jaw.
A painful rush of yearning gripped her and she found herself curling her fingers into his scrubs, tilting her head back to give him room to explore. She’d only spent a few hours with him and yet the way he touched her, skated his mouth and tongue across her skin, seemed achingly familiar.
“I d-don’t think this is such a good idea,” she heard herself say, heard the soft moan and wondered at the war going on inside her; to climb all over him or push him away and see that he stayed there.
Her mind yelled at her to step away while her body urged her closer.
Horrified that she might do something reckless, like rip off his shirt and sink her teeth into some part of him, Sam shoved him back and scuttled out of reach. She spun around and automatically reached out to turn on the tap and dispense a blob of foam hand soap into her palm.
“I—uh, this isn’t what I want,” she said in a voice she didn’t recognize as her own. It sounded husky and throaty, as if they were stretched out on a bed in the dark.
Rubbing her hands together to spread the foam, she cleared her throat, not daring to look at him in case he saw past the desperate attempt to appear professional and in control. Heck. How was she supposed to act with a man who in many ways knew her better than the man she’d been engaged to?
“I left Boston because I needed a change,” she explained, rinsing her hands and turning to address his chest because she couldn’t look him in the eye. After a couple of beats, he wordlessly pulled a length of paper-toweling from the dispenser and held it out. Not seeing any other option, she took it and began to dry her hands. “Coco offered me this job about a year ago but I was um—occupied with other things at the time.”
Dropping the damp mess into the trash, she leaned her hip against the counter and folded her arms beneath her breasts in a move she knew was defensive but hoped looked casual. Just being in the same room with him made her nervous and edgy, because she couldn’t recall ever coming across a situation like this in her grandmother’s etiquette book.
Grimacing inwardly, Sam finally lifted her head and forced herself to meet his hooded gaze. “Then something happened and—” Pausing, she bit her lip and let her gaze slide away from his. It was one thing to admit how hurt she was at the discovery that Lawrence had been satisfying his physical urges all the time he’d been preaching abstinence until the wedding night, and quite another to have the man she’s supposed to spend the rest of her life with lie to her.
“San Francisco.”
Lost in thought, it took Sam a few moments to mentally catch up with the conversation.
“What? Yes—no.” She paused to breathe in, then exhaled in one long shuddery breath. “Partly,” she admitted shakily, rubbing at the tension between her eyes. “I, uh, realized that I was trying to please too many people and it took certain um—” she paused and flushed as one dark brow rose up his forehead “—events,” she said more briskly, straightening her spine and glaring at him. “Before, during and after that weekend to show me I needed a change.” She paused to swipe her tongue across her bottom lip and smooth a loose curl off her forehead. “I, uh—I didn’t intend to have a one...um...night stand with you...or anyone else, for that matter. I want—no, I need to make a success of this to prove to myself that moving wasn’t a mistake.”
“And you think everyone knowing we slept together will jeopardize that?”
He sounded so amused, damn him, that Sam narrowed her gaze. “Yes—no.” She broke off and lifted her chin at the open skepticism in his gaze. “Maybe. I don’t know, but as we’ll be working together, I don’t want to muddy the waters with um—” She broke off and sucked in an unsteady breath.
“Sex?”
It was only when her breath whooshed out that she realized she’d been holding it.
“Yes.”
After a long silence, during which Sam had to force herself to hold his stare, Adam’s gaze dropped to her mouth, scattering all her good intentions. Her lips tingled and parted, her breath hitching softly in her throat.
The air thickened and warmed, swirling around them like a firestorm of sensation that she couldn’t ignore no matter how much she wanted to. A warning buzzed through her the instant his gaze returned to hers. Sensuality curved his mouth and blazed in his amber gaze, all but hypnotizing her.
“Okay,” he murmured, shifting closer in a move that had the warning buzzing louder. “I’ll be the soul of discretion in public.” He paused to let his words drift between them before continuing. “But in private—” he lifted a hand to toy with the large button above her left breast “—I have no intention of letting you forget anything.”
Distracted by his proximity, it took her a moment to realize that he’d very sneakily issued a challenge while her body and mind were in meltdown.
Sucking in a shocked breath, she lurched backward, knocking his hand aside. “Excuse me?” she demanded, outraged. “There won’t be anything in private and there certainly won’t be a repeat of...of...” She broke off to blush and curse at the dark brow rising up his forehead. “Of whatever it is you’re thinking about. I told you. I’m done living my life to please everyone else. From now on, I’m going to please myself. I’ve got a plan and—and you’re not in it.”
In an instant, his eyes went flat and his jaw hardened. On a roll, Sam waved her hand in his direction. “And don’t give me that look,” she snapped. “Because it has nothing to do with your...your—” She broke off abruptly, unsure how to explain without offending him.
“My what?” he drawled smoothly, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “The fact that you had a wild steamy night with a man whose skin is too dark to fit into your rarefied blue-blooded world?”
Her mouth dropped open at the bitterness in his tone and she had to blink past the hot tears burning the backs of her eyes at the implied insult. Pressing a hand to the painful tightening in her chest, she sucked in air that felt like ground glass. “You r-really think that? You think I s-slept with you because...because—” She ground to a halt and swallowed convulsively.
“It’s exciting to have a reckless fling with someone from the wrong side of the tracks before heading off to marry someone from a more suitable family?” His brow arched up his forehead. “You wouldn’t be the first, Sam.”
“Well, I’m not the latest either,” she snapped, incensed that he would accuse her of bigotry when he didn’t even know her. “For your information, it has nothing to do with your ancestry and everything to do with the fact that I’m not looking for a relationship right now, especially with a doctor.” She said the word like it was something offensive and turned to fling herself away from him. When he said nothing, she spun back around to find him staring at her incredulously.
“All this is because I’m a doctor?” he demanded skeptically. “You can’t be serious.”
“My entire family consists of doctors and surgeons,” she said heatedly. “I was an unplanned late-in-life baby and spent my childhood wishing I had some mysteriously interesting medical condition that would get my parents to notice me. And don’t smile,” she fumed. “It was awful. I was foisted onto nannies, housekeepers and finally my grandmother who had as little time for me as my parents did.”
She sucked in a steadying breath because the last thing she wanted was pity from anyone. Especially him.
“I used to think that I’d been abducted by aliens at birth and given to the wrong family, because that was the only explanation for the fact that I had no aptitude when it came to medicine and panicked at the sight of blood.”
“Aliens?”
“My point is,” she said, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “I get that doctors are driven to save people with their superpowers but I’m not interested in anyone determined to prove he’s God’s miracle worker. It’s too—lonely.”
“So you’re what? Looking for a man who stays home and rubs your feet?”
“Who says I’m looking for a man at all?” she snapped, incensed.
Adam’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Seriously?” His mouth curved into a wicked smile. “After San Francisco, you’re trying to sell me that?”
Sam felt her face heat and huffed out in annoyance. Trust a man to twist her words into something sexual. “I’m not trying to sell anything,” she informed him primly. “I’m merely explaining why I’m not looking for a relationship right now. Besides, with my track record with men—look, it’s nothing personal,” she added hastily.
“Nothing personal, huh?” he demanded softly, his eyes gleaming a sensual warning that skittered down her spine. He gave a short laugh and propped his shoulder casually against the wall. “I’m not supposed to take it personally that I’m good enough for a hot night of rebellion against your family but nothing else?”
“I didn’t sleep—” She gulped at the look on his face. Drawing in a shaky breath, she tried again. “I didn’t have sex with you to get back at my family.”
“Who then? Your husband? Your fiancé?”
Sam felt herself go pale. “Who—who told you I had a fiancé?” she demanded hoarsely. For several beats, Adam stared at her, then reached out and caught her left hand. She tried to pull away but he easily lifted it and turned her hand so her ring finger was visible.
“This,” he said, indicating the pale band of flesh where Lawrence’s ring had rested for two years. “Although that night the indentation left in your finger looked fresh. As though you’d recently removed your ring.”
Powerless to deny the truth, Sam sagged against the wall and studied the differences between their hands; hers pale and delicate against the large dark masculinity of his. “I had recently removed it,” she admitted softly, her gaze flying up when his fingers tightened. It was her turn to wrap her hand around his to prevent him pulling away. “But it’s not what you think,” she added hastily, suddenly hating that he thought the worst of her.
“And exactly what do I think, Samantha?” he growled, his gaze shuttered against her.
“That I slept with you while being engaged to another man.” After a moment, one brow rose up his forehead in query. “I um—” She licked her lips nervously and tried to think but it was more difficult that she’d anticipated. Finally, unable to utter the words with his amber eyes watching her with the intent of an eagle poised for attack, she dropped his hand and slid away.
When she could breathe, she said, “I’d already broken it off two days before we met,” over her shoulder without meeting his eyes.
“Why?”
The question jolted her around. “W-why?”
Propping his shoulder against the wall, he folded his arms across his chest. “Why did you break it off?”
Realizing that he probably deserved the truth, Sam blew out a breath. “I walked in on him and his—assistant having sex.” He grimaced but said nothing. Goaded, she added, “His assistant’s name is Ronnie, which is short for Ronald.”
Understanding flickered in his gaze. “Oh.”
“You got that right,” she muttered and then sighed. “I felt—betrayed.”
“Of course you did.”
“No, you don’t understand,” she said heatedly, pushing her hair off her face. “I’ve known him forever. I believed him when he said he loved me. I thought he wanted to wait for the wedding night before we—um, before we—” She broke off, face heating with embarrassment when Adam’s eyes narrowed.
“How long were you engaged?”
She finally muttered, “Almost two years,” sighing with resignation when his eyebrows shot into his hairline.
“You were celibate for two years?”
She glared and folded her arms beneath her breasts, daring him to comment on her stupidity. “I was,” she muttered. “He, however, wasn’t.”
His face was a mix of emotions that might have been comical if the situation weren’t so mortifying. “Do you mean to tell me that night was your first time in two years?”
Her face flamed because it had been way longer than that. Embarrassed, annoyed and wishing she could escape, she set her jaw and demanded irritably, “What’s that got to do with anything? I was just trying to explain why rebound sex is a bad idea and—”
“Have you heard of destiny?” he interrupted mildly.
She blinked, confused by the non sequitur. “Destiny?”
“Fate, providence, predestination, chance, karma or kismet, if you will.”
“I know what it means,” she said through clenched teeth. “I’m just not sure how it relates to this discussion.”
He pushed away from the wall and stalked toward her until she found herself backed against the tiled wall. Annoyed that she’d allowed him to put her in retreat, Sam lifted her chin and met his gaze head-on.
“Did you know,” he murmured, planting one hand flat against the wall beside her head, “that this is the fourth time we’ve been thrown together by events?”
“Events?”
“Yeah, you know destiny, fate.”
She made a sound of annoyance. “There’s no such thing. It was a coincidence.”
“That we were in the same bar, in the same hotel at the same time? That you tumbled into my lap and not one of a dozen men surrounding the dance floor? That we decided to call it a night at the same time and ended up in the elevator together to help bring a child into the world? And then two months later, you cross the continent to work on the same foundation because we’re both acquainted with Colleen Rutherford?” He paused to let his words sink in before leaning closer. “Not only don’t I believe in coincidences, Samantha,” he said softly, “there is no way I can ignore the fact that I already know you intimately.”
Her throat moved convulsively as she swallowed. “You don’t know a thing about me.”
“Don’t I?” he asked softly.
“That’s just ph-physical stuff,” she rasped, her body going hot at the reminder of how much he’d learned that night. “But that’s beside the point. Rebound sex—”
“Is a bad idea,” he interrupted roughly. “Yeah, I know. But here’s the thing.” He ran questing fingers up her arm, across her shoulder and down the neckline of her dress to where the two sides of her dress overlapped. “Rebound or not, I look at you and I can’t forget.”
“Well, I certainly won’t have any problem forgetting anything,” Sam lied, desperately ignoring the rush of sensation spreading out from the barely-there touch. “In fact, I’m really good at ignoring things that aren’t good for me.” For too long, she’d been really good at ignoring her own wants too, doing what was expected of a Gilford.
She pressed her hand against his chest in the hopes that he’d get the message and back off. “You’re in the ladies’ room. Now, please leave so I can get b-back to my p-plan.”
Adam’s eyes darkened and before she could squeak out a protest, he gently pulled her against him and brought his lips close enough to shock her into stillness and then strain for more. She yielded to temptation, slanting her lips against his and opening them to receive his invading tongue before she could remind herself that this was the last thing she wanted, that he was the last man she wanted.
But she did. Oh, God, she did. She’d wanted him in San Francisco and she’d wanted him while sitting across the boardroom table, pretending interest in what Aunt Coco was saying. She hadn’t heard a thing over the panicked embarrassment and excitement pounding through her blood.
She shouldn’t be kissing him. But she was and she didn’t want to stop. Oh, God, she thought as she closed her lips around his tongue and sucked it into her mouth. She didn’t want to stop the wild recklessness rising within her to give and take and then take some more.
And then, just as the edges of her vision grayed, he broke off the kiss with a ragged curse and backed away, leaving Sam clutching the vanity counter. Opening heavy eyes, she stared at him in confusion. He was half a dozen feet away, dragging air into his heaving lungs. After a slow burning stare, Adam turned and pulled open the door.
“Ignore that, if you can, Ms. Jefferies,” he growled over his shoulder in a voice that was hardly recognizable, and then he was gone.