Double Dealing Read Free Page A

heard herself demand
with false flippancy as the intruder neared.
    “He looks in fairly good shape to me,” the therapist allowed
judiciously as she concentrated on kneading her client’s right thigh.
    “Yeah, I had the same impression,” Samantha drawled wryly.
Trust Miss Carson to view everyone from her own peculiarly limited viewpoint.
In that moment Samantha could have used a little insightful input from the
other woman, and all she got was an analysis of whether or not Gabriel Sinclair
was a candidate for treatments!
    Damn it to hell! Hadn’t she seen movies in which powerful
corporate heads or prominent underworld figures conducted business in the
surroundings of a health club?
    Yes, she had, Samantha thought nervously. And in those films
there had usually been a dead body or two lying around after the mist from the
steam bath had cleared! She didn’t even have the advantage of a cover of hot
steam. Instead she was going to confront Gabriel Sinclair while wearing only a
towel and a massage table. Well, she would just have to strive to be as brisk
and calm and as coolly professional as possible under the circumstances. So
much depended on subtly gaining and keeping the upper hand with Sinclair.
    Samantha managed to summon a graciously aloof smile, hoping
her inner agitation did not show in her eyes. It was tricky maintaining the
serene, faintly inquiring expression while keeping her chin planted firmly on
her stacked hands. Miss Carson industriously ignored the potential interruption
as the man came to a halt beside the table. Her continued assault was going to
make conversation as well as the gracious smile rather difficult to maintain,
Samantha acknowledged ruefully.
    “From that rather cryptic little message you sent, I somehow
pictured you in a gray pinstripe business suit and a pair of low-heeled pumps,
Miss Maitland.” The man’s voice suited him, a low, soft drawl that held the
essence of stones on a riverbed in its depths. “The towel adds a whole new
twist to the picture.”
    Good God! He was so substantial -looking.
The impression of solid, granite-hard immobility was unnerving. How did one get
the upper hand with this type? It took a fierce effort of will for Samantha to
maintain the smile. “I was led to believe that Californians appreciate a touch
of novelty, Mr. Sinclair. You are Gabriel Sinclair, aren’t you?” She tried to
inject a hint of admonishment into her voice. After all, he hadn’t had the good
manners to properly introduce himself. But, then, someone with good manners
would have backed out of this room full of naked women as soon as he’d
blundered through the door!
    He inclined his head in acknowledgment. Before Samantha
could continue, Miss Carson chose to take temporary charge of the situation.
    “My client is occupied at the moment, Mr. Sinclair,” she announced,
turning violent on a particularly stubborn bit of cellulite. “And gentlemen are
not allowed in the treatment rooms.”
    “I am a friend of Miss Fortune, the owner,” Gabriel murmured
absently. His gaze was focused on the portion of Samantha’s anatomy presently
under attack.
    “And that gives you the right to just march in here?”
Samantha demanded coolly, annoyed as she sensed a flush rising into her face.
Heaven only knew what other parts of her were also turning pink under the
interested perusal she was undergoing.
    “Frankly, I didn’t ask.” Gabriel smiled down at her, a
small, faintly amused smile that increased Samantha’s feeling of unease. “I
just came looking and here you were.”
    “I see,” she retorted repressively. “Do you make a habit of
staging such grand entrances for every business appointment?”
    “As you said, Californians are fond of novelty.”
    Samantha eyed him warily. She mustn’t let him think he had
intimidated her with his unexpected appearance. She had enough instinctive
business sense to know the value of holding her own, especially when dealing
with a successful