The white noise of the falling water drowned out most of the party, but truth to tell, Sam was so caught up in the woman in front of him that he wouldn't have noticed a train blasting through the yard.
Satisfied that they were alone, Anna continued her rant as if she hadn't been interrupted.
"How is it you get to decide what people do and who they date?"
Irritated, he snapped, "I don't remember filling out your social calendar. As for my brother … "
"Did you or did you not tell him to stop dating me because I was-" She stopped and tapped her chin with the tip of one finger. "Let me see if I can get this just right. She's using you to get to my money to save her father." She narrowed her eyes on him. "That about cover it?"
Hearing his own words tossed back at him caused him to wince. Figured that his brother would be fool enough to actually tell her what Sam had said. He should have known.
Most of his life, Sam had been taking care of Garret. He'd seen him through school, bailed him out of trouble occasionally and waited for him to grow up. Hadn't happened yet, though.
He moved in closer to her and had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes widen slightly at his nearness. Good to know he wasn't the only one still affected by that kiss.
"He shouldn't have repeated that to you."
"You shouldn't have said it in the first place."
"I'm looking out for my family."
"And what? I'm a threat?"
Looking at her now, Sam thought she was only a threat to a man's sanity. But how could he be sure she wasn't simply an excellent actress? If she was feigning insult, though, she was doing a damn good job of it.
"Babe, I don't know what you are. All I know is I do what I have to for my family-why shouldn't I expect you to do the same?"
"So you don't even deny saying it-and don't call me 'babe.'"
He scraped one hand across the back of his neck. "No, I don't. Can you deny that your father's company's in trouble?"
She took a deep breath and helplessly, Sam's gaze briefly dropped to the deep V of her shirt. When his eyes met hers again, he noted fresh fury sparking in her grass-green eyes.
Lowering her voice, she said, "Are you in the Middle Ages or something? You really believe I would barter myself to save my dad's company?"
"People have done a lot more for a lot less," he mused.
"Well, I don't," she told him. "And I really think you've insulted me enough for one night, don't you?"
"Yeah," he said, edging closer, "I think we've both done enough talking."
Staring down into her eyes, he reached for her and waited to see if she would pull away. She glared at him. He pulled her in closer, until her breasts were pillowed against his chest and he could feel the heat of her body sliding into his.
"This isn't a good idea," she said, tilting her head back to look up at him. "I should be kicking you."
"Yeah," he said, his gaze moving over her features as if trying to burn her image onto his brain. "But doesn't seem to matter. I've got to taste you again."
"Really not a good idea," she whispered, going up on her toes to meet him as he lowered his head to hers.
His lips brushed hers and he felt that zip of something amazing scatter through him. Her mouth opened under his and he swept inside, losing himself in her heat, her acceptance. He felt her heartbeat pounding against his chest and knew that his own heart was matching that wild rhythm.
She leaned into him and he swept her up, nearly lifting her off her feet to get her closer to him. He wanted more. Wanted bare skin beneath his hands. Wanted to ease her down on that damn bench and-
Close by, a raucous burst of laughter shattered the night as people started wandering out into the garden. The intrusion was enough to tear them apart instantly.
Sam took a step back from her, just for good measure, and he didn't think it was far enough. Her taste still filled his mouth and his blood was pumping through his veins as hot and thick as lava.
"This is crazy," she whispered, shaking her head as if she couldn't believe what was happening between them.
Sam knew exactly how she felt. "Doesn't seem to matter," he said, as he took a step closer to her.
An uneasy laugh shot from her throat. "We are not doing that again."
"Why not?" Yeah, he knew this was trouble. But he didn't really care.
"Because … " She mentally searched for a good reason and apparently came up empty. Still struggling for breath, she added, "We're just not going to, trust me. And if you won't leave, then I will."
She swept past him, chin lifted, head held high.
"Good night, Anna Cameron," he said softly.
She stopped, looked over her shoulder at him and said pointedly, "Goodbye, Sam Hale."
Three
Sam didn't leave.
Instead, he wandered through the party, listening to snippets of conversation even as he tried to get her out of his mind. She wouldn't go, though. Instead, he kept seeing her eyes, filled with fury and dazzled with passion. He heard her voice, standing up to him as no one had dared do in years. She hadn't backed down. She'd stood her ground and challenged him. Argued with him.
And then kissed him senseless.
Why the hell had a woman like her ever dated Garret? he asked himself. She was way too much woman for his younger brother. Which led him back to his original thought, that she had only been dating Garret to try to help her father's company.
But if that were true, why wouldn't she have tried to snag Sam? Why not go for the head of the business?
He accepted a glass of wine from a passing waiter, had a sip, then set the flute down again on a nearby table. His gaze scanned the crowd, noting the decorations, the Christmas tree that had to stand ten feet tall and the mountain of small gifts beneath it, tokens for their guests, all wrapped in bright paper and festive ribbons.
Sam didn't know whether to admire Dave Cameron for going ahead with a party when times were so bad for his company, or to pity him for being a fool. The snippets of conversations he'd heard throughout the place told him that everyone in the room knew about Dave's troubles, so this party wasn't fooling anyone. Why do it, then?
"Having a good time?"
The voice behind him caught Sam off guard and his shoulders stiffened. He should have known that Dave Cameron would come and find him. Especially considering the man's wife had probably reported seeing Sam and Anna kissing like teenagers in the backseat of a car.
Turning, he held out his hand. "It's a good party, Dave."
"Glad you could come," the other man said, shaking his hand. "Don't recall seeing you here last year."
Or any other year. Sam didn't usually get involved in community activities. The only reason he was here this year was because he'd wanted a look at Anna. Now, he wanted another, longer look at her. "You know how it is," he said, "never enough time to relax."
"You should take the time," Dave told him. "There's more to life than business."
"So I hear."
The older man watched him thoughtfully. "Clarissa tells me you and Anna have … met."
Uncomfortable, Sam hedged. No doubt, the story of that mistletoe kiss had already made the rounds, thanks to Clarissa. As it was, he felt the stares of at least a dozen people. Small towns were notorious for gossip, and Sam knew he and Anna were going to be the hot topic for at least a few days.
"Yeah. That's a long story, though," he said and gave a quick look around at the surrounding crowd. "Not really the time for it now."
Nodding, Dave said, "I'll look forward to hearing it."
"Right." Not a conversation Sam wanted to have. "Well, I only stopped by to wish you a Merry Christmas, so I think I'll be going."
"No need to rush off," Dave told him. "Stay, enjoy yourself."
The only way that would happen is if he could get Anna to himself again. And because the chance of that was slim, there was really no point in sticking around.
"I appreciate it. Another time." He took a step, then stopped and added, "Say good night to Anna for me."
Let her explain the situation to her father, he thought with an inner smile.
"Now that's a gorgeous Christmas tree."
Anna stepped back to admire her own handiwork and smiled at her best friend, Tula Barrons. Her real name was Tallulah, but heaven help you if you actually called her that. Tula's blond hair was cut short, close to her head. She wore silver hoop earrings, a blue tunic sweater and black jeans with navy blue boots.