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Now Sam found himself turning into the same parking garage he’d been in earlier, heading back to Lakefield Galleries.
“Hi, we don’t have a showing tonight so I’m just about to lock up,” the friendly receptionist whose name he now knew was Astrid told him.
“I was hoping to catch Ms. Lakefield,” he said. “Karena Lakefield,” he amended when she stepped behind the desk and looked down at her computer screen.
“She hasn’t logged off her computer yet so she’s probably still here.”
“Does she do that often?”
“Do what?”
“Work late,” he said, realizing he’d spoken aloud. He’d been thinking that a woman as fine as Karena should have an active social life. Invitations to parties and friends to hang out with should be taking up the majority of her time.
Oh, no, that was his ex-fiancée’s lifestyle he was thinking about. Leeza Purdy was the queen of Greenwich’s most elite society clique, which meant that most of her time was spent entertaining. That was, when she could pry herself away from Sam’s side, where she tried to dictate everything from the type of underwear he wore to the kind of gas he put into his car.
Breaking up with her had been one of his finer moments, and while his sisters had both readily told him that, he’d known it from the waves of relief that washed over him once it was all said and done.
Astrid shrugged. “Yes, I believe so. I’ll walk you to her office,” she said, picking up her purse and coming around the desk to meet him.
“Don’t worry about it, I remember where it is. You go ahead and have a good evening.”
“Thanks, you have a good evening, too. I’ll put the automatic locks on so when you leave the door will lock behind you. As long as you’re just going out, the security system will stay activated,” Astrid said before slipping through the glass doors.
Sam nodded. He’d been wondering about their security, as he hadn’t seen any cameras or security beacons on his first trip to the office. But now that he’d suspected someone was setting the Lakefields up to take a fall, he was determined to cover those bases.
When Astrid was gone, he moved behind her desk, kneeling to look underneath. There was a panic button. Good. Further inspection yielded a separate computer keyboard that Sam recognized as part of one of the better security systems. This keyboard monitored every employee in the office as they were logged in to their computers. It also monitored each office by using heat and motion sensors so that if someone were in an office that shouldn’t be occupied, a message would immediately appear on a small computer screen.
Sam knew the system well and pressed a few keys before the screen flashed. The seventh floor was dedicated office space, he noted as he looked at the computerized layout. The larger rooms, he assumed, were conference rooms while the smaller ones were most likely employee offices. Of the ten offices, only two were still occupied. Karena and Monica, he knew without a doubt.
Tapping another sequence of keys, he pulled up the eighth floor, the gallery. This had additional security. Laser beams crisscrossed from the floor to the ceiling, in addition to the same heat and motion sensors that were on the office level. There were some smaller alcoves which had more security, coded keypads or locked encasements. He figured these probably held the more valuable pieces. He was just about to tap in another code when her voice startled him.
“What are you doing?”
His head snapped up, his body instantly warming at the sight of her.
“I was hungry,” he said as casually as he could manage. “I figured you might be, too, so I came to take you to dinner.”
She blinked, confusion marring her pretty face. “You’re on the computer.”
“No. I’m checking your security systems.”
“Oh,” she said and came around the desk to stand beside him. “The system was just updated two months ago.”
He nodded. “It’s a really good system, worth the money. How often do you and your sister stay here by yourselves?”
“We don’t work normal hours, if that’s what you’re asking. But there’s a security guard on the lower level of the garage and cameras everywhere. It’s safe.”
“It’s not healthy,” he replied, his fingers moving quickly over the keys as he closed the areas he’d wanted to check.
“It’s after five and you’re still working,” she responded.
“Yeah, but I didn’t leave my house until well after ten this morning. I’m betting you were here a lot earlier than that.”
“That has nothing to do with your job,” she said then moved around the desk.
He smiled at her sarcasm and her attempt to put him in his place. But she had no idea whom she was dealing with.
“You will find that I’m really into details. Whether they directly relate to my job doesn’t really matter. Now, about dinner?”
“I’ll order in. You can let yourself out,” she was saying as he approached her.
“I don’t want to eat alone.”
“That’s not my problem.” Yet Karena got the sinking feeling that it was. His mouth said the hunger he spoke of was related to food. His eyes said something entirely different. The dark brown grew even darker, lust circling his irises with a smoldering ring. He approached her, and suddenly the reception area seemed too small for the both of them.
Inhaling sharply, she backed up, knowing instinctively that having him close to her was a mistake. He continued his trek forward, determination giving his tall, broad form an air of intimidation she wasn’t quite sure she could handle.
“Are you afraid of me, Karena?”
Chapter Five
Karena let out a nervous chuckle. “Oh, please. Don’t flatter yourself.” Her back hit the wall and he kept right on moving until his body invaded what she needed to be her personal space. Her heart was pounding and she fought to keep her breathing normal. “I’m just trying to decide what’s more important, getting to the bottom of this stolen-picture drama or kneeing you in the balls. What do you think?”
At the end of the day, training and upbringing aside, Sam was still a man. As such, he grimaced at the mere mention of the harm she threatened to his most prized possessions. “First, I’m not the enemy, so there’s no need to run from me,” he said calmly because he didn’t know any other way. “Second, finding out what’s going on with the painting is definitely important but not to the point that you neglect your own personal needs.”
With one more step he was so close her perfume smelled as if it had been sprayed on him instead. She was a lot shorter than him, the top of her head coming to his pectoral muscles. Yet with his continued progress toward her, she’d lifted her chin and tilted her head so that she was staring directly into his eyes.
Sam realized in that moment that he wanted her beneath him, there was no question about it. He’d thought she was sexy the first two times he’d seen her, in a passing kind of way that all men noticed a good-looking woman. When he’d heard her voice on the phone this morning he’d thought, hell, maybe his chance at getting close to her was happening. Spending the day in Manhattan waiting like a schoolboy with a crush until it was time for her to get off from work to see her again proved he was going to lose the battle of taking things slow, which was normally his repertoire.
“Besides,” he said, remembering her comment concerning his groin area because all the blood in his head was now rushing to that location, “kneeing me would be a dangerous option. Not to mention painful, and I’m sure it’s not your intent to cause me pain.”
She lifted a brow and he wanted to touch her there, to feel the smooth hairs just above her eyes. Anything to get his hands on her because his fingers itched to touch, his mouth watered to taste. “I’m hungry,” he said, his voice hoarse.
Yes, he was, she thought, and so, quite possibly, was she. His body was pressed hard against hers now, his hands at her sides remaining still only by the control she saw straining at the surface. His body trembled with that control, that need to stay still battling with the desire to reach out and touch.
And, God, she wanted him to touch her. Never had she been weak to the needs of the flesh. With her mind made up about what type of men she would involve herself with and the limitations where relationships were concerned, Karena owned enough sex toys to open her own online sex shop. She used them more than she probably should and often wondered what effect all the electricity moving in and out of her body would have in the long run. Still, she was a woman and a professional who knew how to do what was necessary to survive in the world she’d built for herself.
Unfortunately, right about now she was so starved for the real thing, if Sam touched her she was bound to spontaneously combust, and then what?
Hadn’t she just had this conversation with Monica? He was here for business and business only. She definitely needed to keep that thought in mind.
“Maybe you should leave,” she said finally when the silence was giving her too much think time. “Go home, get yourself some dinner. Call me in the morning.” And she would go home and try to figure out this mess she’d made of her career.
“I want you to join me,” he persisted.
“We don’t always get what we want, Sam.” His name whispered past her lips and she watched as his eyes lowered to her mouth. Instinctively she licked her lips, then regretted the motion as Sam’s head began to lower.
Oh, God, he was going to kiss her. He couldn’t.
He was a breath away, warmth caressing her skin.
He shouldn’t.
She braced herself, feeling the sizzling ache deep inside.
He wouldn’t.
Oh, please, let his lips hurry up and touch hers.
When they did, all pleas were futile, all thought vanished and her mind clouded.
The taking was slow, his lips touching lightly against hers as if testing the waters. They touched hers a second time, and she was the one to step closer. Third time was the charm, as his tongue snaked out to meet with hers as if in silent agreement.
Warm, wet, enticingly slow, he kissed her and she kissed him right back.
Her hands clasped around his neck, his around her waist. The kiss deepened until his moans echoed in her ears, her heart thumped in her chest.
As far as kisses went this was, as Deena would say, off the chain.
His technique was slow, persistent and right on the mark as Karena felt sensations rippling fiercely throughout her body. This was breaking another of her rules when it came to men. She didn’t do a lot of kissing. It was too intimate and stirred too many emotions. Like right now, she felt as if she was falling weightlessly into a swirling pit of desire lined with fluffy white clouds designed to make the fall smoother.
Heat licked at her with each stroke of his tongue as she felt his hold on her increasing until he was almost lifting her off the floor. His mouth opened over hers, devouring her lips, strangling her tongue. And still, she felt as if he was holding back, giving her only a taste…of what was to come.
Sam was lost, felt the stranglehold of control that normally surrounded him slipping just a bit. He hadn’t meant to take the kiss this far, only to get a small taste. But she’d opened to him immediately, like a flower waiting to bloom. When she wrapped her arms around him, going higher on her tiptoes to meet his insistent embrace, he almost shivered.
He wasn’t a player by any stretch of the imagination. He’d had only two serious relationships in his entire thirty-one years. Unlike his brother, Cole, his goals where women were concerned were already etched in stone. Love. Marriage. Family. That’s what his parents had and that’s what he wanted. Any woman he took to his bed more than once would have to know that right up front.
Damn, she tasted good and felt good, wrapped in his arms with her body pressed hotly against his own. Desire speared through him with an intensity that had him holding her tighter, tonguing her deeper. His erection throbbed and he lifted her until it was cradled against the flat indentation of her belly.
He could take her right here, right now, and give them both a pleasure they longed for. But that would be crass, not to mention unprofessional. No, he wanted the seductive Ms. Lakefield in his bed for hours on end, not propped up against this wall screaming his name, because that would never be enough.
With those thoughts running rapidly through his mind, Sam pulled away slightly, giving her a second to breathe before nipping her bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and feeling her tremble once more. One more taste and he swore he was going to let her go. His tongue traced her lip, slid along the line of her teeth. She pulled her head back away from him and he groaned.
“Don’t run, Karena,” he whispered huskily, moving his lips closer to hers, his tongue already extended and waiting for her to join in.
For a split second it appeared she would back down, but then something sparked in her eyes and her tongue once again touched his, twirling around him in a sensual dance that had him moaning. His eyes were just closing once more, his mind slipping into the trance that her taste weaved around him, when his cell phone rang.
He’d planned to ignore it, Karena could tell by the way his arms tightened around her. She couldn’t blame him, this was one helluva kiss. She’d felt it all the way down to the tingle in her toes. Yeah, that probably sounded real corny, but damn if she was lying. Sam Desdune definitely had skills in the kissing department, and if she wasn’t careful she’d be ending her self-induced sexual drought right here in the lobby of her art gallery.
The phone chirped again and she forced herself to pull back. “Answer it,” she said, breathing hard and lifting a hand to wipe the moisture from her lips.
He only stared at her for a moment and she nodded toward the phone that still rang at his waist. Finally he reached for it but still kept her pinned to the wall.
“Desdune.”
“I’ve got identification and a passport. Are you near a fax?” Bree said in her efficient way.
“What’s the fax number?” he asked Karena and repeated it to Bree.
“That’s the machine in my office,” Karena said, using this diversion as an opportunity to slip away from him and move in the direction of her office.
Grateful for the space she walked quickly, knowing he was watching her but refusing to bask in the feeling of sexiness that emanated with just one look from him. She wasn’t an amateur in the game of boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy and girl have sex. And after what they’d just done she was thinking more and more that sleeping with Sam Desdune would be just as explosive as the kiss they’d shared. Her business-only stance might have to be readjusted.
Pushing through the door to her office, she saw that whatever he’d asked be faxed to them was already being transmitted through the machine.
“Your office works fast,” Karena quipped.
“It’s Bree, my twin sister. She takes her job about as seriously as you take yours.”
“Smart woman,” she said, lifting the first page from the machine without looking at him.
He was about to say something else when she gasped.
“It’s not him.”
He moved closer to her. “What?”
She handed him the paper, dread filling her eyes, her entire body tense. “That’s not the man I met with in Brazil. It wasn’t Leandro. Monica was right. I got played.”
Chapter Six
“You’re blaming yourself for something that could have happened to anyone,” Sam said as they sat in one of his favorite restaurants in the city, 212.
He’d ordered steamed shrimp dumplings while Karena had Asian-style tuna rolls that she was barely touching.
“I should have known better,” she said, her elbows propped on the table, chin resting on her clasped hands as she stared just past him contemplatively.
“How? Nobody’s ever seen this guy. There’s no way you could have expected this type of duplicity. And you don’t strike me as the kind of woman to bask in self-pity, so what’s really going on?”
She blinked, his words catching her off guard. Sam Des-dune was more than unexpected. Not only was she extremely attracted to him, a fact evidenced by the wanton manner in which she’d kissed him only an hour or so earlier, but his whole demeanor was different from what she would have anticipated.
Of course, she’d known he was easy to talk to; the two times she’d seen him before were proof of that. They’d slipped into conversation as if they’d known each other for years. Yet, today there was something else.
“It’s my dad,” she found herself saying as a result of this strange comfort zone between them. “He’s…um…” Her voice trailed off.
“Difficult,” Sam finished for her.
She couldn’t help but smile. His insight was uncanny. “For lack of a better word, yes.”
“Is that just with you or does he treat everyone he knows in that condescending way?”
“Oh, no.” She was already shaking her head. She didn’t want Sam to get the wrong idea about her family. “He’s really not that bad all the time.” Why she felt the need to defend him she didn’t know. “The business is just his life, so he’s very protective of it.”
“He owns the galleries and the Lakefield Foundation?”
How did he know about the foundation? Duh, he’s a private investigator. But why investigate the Lakefields? Better to deal with the matter at hand, Karena, stop borrowing trouble. That’s a problem she’d had all her life, according to her mother.
“The foundation was instituted about five years ago with the goal of entering into philanthropic arenas. My father comes from a colorful background, his ancestors building off the luck of the land, so to speak. So he and his brothers decided it was time to give something back.”
