Not Quite an Angel (9 page)

A door opened on Sameh's right, and she all but walked into Adam. He caught her by the shoulders in a reflexive move. “Sameh, what the—”

Sameh stepped back in a hurry, out of his arms, but her hand throbbed, and she felt shaken and a bit dizzy. She staggered and he slid a supportive arm around her.

“Adam, Sameh fell going up the stairs, she's hurt her hand. We need some antiseptic and a bandage,” Frances informed him.

He frowned and inspected Sameh's hands, gently uncurling the one she'd injured. Blood was seeping from the raw scrapes, and a fair amount of grit was imbedded in her flesh. Sameh whimpered. Even looking at it made her sick to her stomach.

“C'mon in here. This needs to be cleaned off.” Putting his arm around her again, Adam led the way into a bathroom and began rummaging in a cupboard. Sameh sat down on the closed toilet seat, still feeling light-headed, unsure whether it was a result of the fall or of having Adam now practically kneeling at her feet with a first-aid kit and a washcloth.

Whatever the cause, it wasn't an unpleasant sensation at all. He smelled of after-shave, like ferns in a moist, woodsy place, with an undertone of musky male animal. His thick dark hair looked soft and rumpled. He'd taken off his jacket, and the sleeves of his blue striped shirt were rolled up to just below his forearms. He had nice wrists, strong, long-fingered hands. When he leaned toward her, the muscles in
his shoulders strained against the shirt and her heart gave a crazy thump.

“Give me your hand,” he ordered. Sameh hesitated and then held it out.

Frances had been watching the whole scene. “Well, people,” she announced, “now that everything's under control, I'm off to Bernie's office to see what he and Janice are up to.”

Neither Sameh nor Adam paid any attention.

“Ouch, owww, that hurts!” Sameh shrieked. Adam was using the washcloth and some awful sort of antiseptic, dabbing at the dirt in her cuts.

“Be brave,” Adam murmured. She'd never been the least bit brave about things like this. She jerked her hand away and gave him a filthy look. “You want a bullet to bite while I amputate?” He glanced up at her with one eyebrow raised and a trace of humor in his green eyes.

She glared at him. “This isn't the least bit funny, Adam Hawkins. Don't be so rough—those cuts are very painful.”

“Sameh, I'm trying my best not to hurt you.”

“Well, you
are
hurting me, so try harder.” She sounded cranky and didn't care.

He said something under his breath that she didn't quite catch and took a firmer grip on her hand before he went back to what he'd been doing. He thoroughly cleaned each cut before he smoothed on a cooling gel and efficiently wrapped her palm in gauze, holding it firm with adhesive.

Sameh squawked and moaned and complained during the whole procedure, forgetting, just as she always did, to take a deep breath and go to meditative level where the pain wouldn't be able to penetrate.

By the time he finished she was sorry for herself and furious with him. She snatched her hand away the moment he loosened his grip. If she could have gotten up and
stomped away, she would have, but his large body was blocking the door. She was suddenly aware of how small the room was.

After a moment, he got to his feet. She could sense him looking down at her, but she wouldn't meet his gaze. She stared at her bandaged hand, instead, resting it on her white walking shorts. She had a big ketchup stain just above the cuff on her left knee. She moved her hand to cover it. There was also dirt and blood where she'd wiped her hand down her side, but there was nothing she could do to hide that.

“Sameh, we need to talk.”

She shook her head, still feeling mutinous. “There's nothing to talk about, Adam.”

He reached down and pulled her to her feet. “Damn it all, there is so. Look, I want to apologize for the other night. I acted like an ass, and I'm sorry.”

He sounded as if he were doing her a favor rather than apologizing, the arrogant— She stole a glance at him from under her eyelashes. There were beads of sweat on his forehead. The office was air-conditioned, so it couldn't be that warm in the bathroom. She picked up the waves of acute nervousness that radiated from him, but his anxiety didn't show on his face or in the way he held his body. He certainly was an expert at hiding his true feelings.

“If you still want to be friends, I'm game to give it a try.”

He sounded as if he didn't give a damn one way or the other. She didn't look fully at him this time. She studied his aura, instead, and she could see that he was telling the whole unvarnished truth for once.

“I intend to go on seeing you, Sameh.” There was both threat and warning in his words, but she could see they were really a plea. He was a proud man, and this was nearly killing him.

A rush of pure feminine satisfaction went through her. The self-assured Adam Hawkins was apologizing to her.

“I'd run like hell if he said that to me,” a feminine voice drawled from behind him.

Adam turned around, his eyes and voice like dry ice. “Janice, this doesn't concern you in the slightest.”

“I know, but it's fascinating all the same.” The plump young woman with startling yellow hair and the briefest mini Sameh had ever seen gave Adam a maddening smile and held out a beringed hand to Sameh. “Hi, I'm Janice Monk, resident slave.” Her smile was wide and genuine, and humor danced in her brown eyes.

Sameh maneuvered past Adam and clasped Janice's hand in her uninjured one, immediately sensing that she'd known this woman many times before, in many lifetimes. It was a comforting feeling, like coming home after a long journey. “I'm Sameh Smith. Hello, I'm glad to meet you.” She almost added “again,” but stopped herself in time.

“Frances said you half killed yourself on those stupid stairs. How about a cup of our coffee to really finish the job? Or herbal tea? I always keep a stash of herbal tea in my drawer.”

Sameh smiled for the first time in half an hour. “I'd like tea. Thank you.”

“Then follow me.”

Sameh was about to do so when Adam took a firm grip on her upper arm. “Hold it just one damned minute. We're having a private conversation here, and we're not finished.”

Janice paused and then gave a shrug. “I guess you won't want me hearing any of this, right, boss?”

“Right.”

Janice winked at Sameh. “Fine, be a spoilsport. I'll be in the reception area, Sameh, whenever you're finished.”

Adam waited until Janice had gone. “Now are we or are
we not going to be friends?” He ground the words out from between clenched teeth, and Sameh knew that he was considering giving her a good shake as he said them.

She was nervous, but she lifted her eyebrows in the quizzical, cool way she'd learned from him. “Of course we can be friends, Adam. That's exactly what I've been suggesting all along.” She sensed the sigh of relief he was doing his best not to release. His fingers loosened their stranglehold on her arm, sliding down to her wrist. “On one condition,” she added.

He tensed again, and now there was a threatening glint in his eyes. “You'd better lay it on me, but I'm warning you, I don't have a lot of patience left. Don't push me on this, Sameh.”

“I'm not pushing, for heaven's sake.” She still felt short-tempered because her hand hurt. “I'm simply making things clear between us,” she said in a haughty tone that would have earned her a dressing down from Kendra. Well, Great-Grandmother wasn't here, was she?

Just then, Sameh picked up what Adam was thinking, and she gasped. She was going to set him straight before those particular thoughts had a chance to go any further. They were a perfect example of the condition she was going to insist upon.

“Being friends is not just the first step toward something…more intimate, Adam. Being friends is all there is for us. It's all there ever can be. Friendship, and perfect honesty.”

Something hot and dangerous flared in his eyes. “Perfect honesty, huh? Well, that's what you'll get from me about this whole mess.” His words were clipped. His voice dropped until it was almost a growl. “I can't promise that I'll stop wanting to strip off every scrap of your clothes and
take you to bed and make love to you until neither of us can stand up anymore.”

Sameh closed her eyes. Damn it to Pluto, did he have to use words that drew such graphic pictures in her mind?

“To pretend I don't want you sexually would be the biggest, fattest lie I've ever told,” he snarled. “So I won't do it. Because I do want you, and nothing's going to change that. Nothing. I intend to go on wanting you every single moment, and somewhere, sometime, you're going to want me back. I know it, Sameh. You're fooling yourself if you believe any different. Do you understand me?”

A shiver ran down her spine at the images his words evoked, and Sameh's throat grew tight and dry. She understood, all right. He was being honest, just as she'd asked him to be. He'd backed her into a corner, he'd used her own methods against her, he'd—She gulped.

If she didn't know better, she'd almost think that Adam Hawkins, a primitive man from the nineties, had just outwitted her.

S
AMEH FLUSHED
, swallowing hard, and a small, satisfied smile pulled at Adam's mouth when he saw her reaction. “I promise you I won't ever do anything you don't want me to do, Sameh,” he said in a soft, velvety tone.

Now why wasn't that reassuring? Sameh wondered. There was danger here, but she couldn't put her finger on a solution at the moment. She cleared her throat. “That sounds, that sounds…I guess that's fine.”

He nodded, and now satisfaction was plain on his rugged features.

“Okay, that's settled, then. I'm working tonight, but I'll pick you up tomorrow for dinner. About six?”

She shook her head, and his eyes narrowed. He looked ready to do battle all over again. “I don't want to go out for dinner if I have to dress up and wear those high-heeled shoes again. I can't find them, anyway. I've lost them, and they belonged to Delilah.”

He blinked, and then relaxed and grinned. “Wear whatever's comfortable. We'll go somewhere casual. And I've got your shoes. You left them in my car. I'll bring them along tomorrow night.”

She gave him a small smile. “Casual sounds good. And afterward maybe we could see a movie?” An idea was forming.

“Sure.” He seemed prepared to be obliging. “I'm not sure what's on, but I'll check.”

She needed to fill the time they spent together with places to go and things to do. They had to keep busy. That way, he'd have less chance to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. She remembered the list Frances had made of Los Angeles's tourist attractions, and a smile came and went. Whenever things began to get out of hand with him, she'd just suggest something from the list. She beamed up at him, relieved at this simple solution. It felt so good to be around him again.

“I'm glad we're going to be friends, Adam. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to go and have something to drink with Janice. See you tomorrow at six.”

He watched her as she made her way down the hall. Before she rounded the corner into the reception area, she turned and waggled her bandaged hand at him and sent him one of those incredible high-voltage smiles.

He waited until she was gone, shook his head and went back into his office, slumping into his chair and massaging his forehead with his fingers. Relief washed through him. Sameh was back in his life, and he was so relieved and grateful it was almost pathetic. After several days of absolute hell, something was going right for him again.

He shuddered, remembering in detail what his week had been like. It had started bright and early Tuesday morning when Violet Temple had stormed into his office, too incensed to remember to speak in her little-girl voice.

“I want my money back,” she'd snarled, stabbing a long, skinny finger in the direction of Adam's nose. “I hired you people to do an investigation. I gave you a very generous deposit for it, and all you've done is take that—that creature out to dinner.” Her droopy eyes were bloodshot, with deep, purplish bags sagging underneath them, and the finger pointing at him trembled. Adam wondered whether sweet Violet wasn't hitting the bottle a bit too hard.

It took one to know one. His own eyes were red, and his head felt as if it had grown too large for his skin and was about to split like an overripe mango. Hangovers were painful. He should have remembered that before he stopped at Smitty's. And even with more liquor than blood in his veins, he hadn't been able to sleep long. At four that morning, he'd awakened thinking of Sameh, and he'd finally given up on sleep and tried a hot shower and a pot of coffee.

Neither had helped one damned bit. He'd arrived at the office feeling and looking like the walking dead, only to be greeted by a grinning Janice with Violet close on her heels. He wanted nothing more than to physically remove the old harridan from his office. Instead he did his best to keep his features impassive.

“Good morning, Violet.” He sat down and tipped his chair back in an attempt to appear calm and reasonable. “I take it you're not happy with the job we've been doing for you.”

She snorted and slammed a fist down on his desk, toppling his photo of Myles. “I should sue you for misrepresentation. Instead of investigating that bitch like you promised, you've been taking her out on dates. I overheard her talking to Delilah. She was borrowing a dress to wear out to dinner with you. I saw you driving in last night to pick her up, bold as brass, holding the car door open for that slut.”

Rage exploded in him. For an instant, he wanted to murder Violet Temple. Her hostility toward Sameh triggered something primeval in him, a deep-seated need to protect that he couldn't begin to understand. He struggled to control his voice and his emotions. “The way in which we operate isn't any of your affair, Violet. We've done an extensive investigation of Ms. Smith, and the fact is we've found nothing whatsoever to suggest any wrongdoing or any mal
ice toward Delilah or anyone else.” It was the truth. “She's a remarkably honest and moral young woman.”

God knows he could attest to that.

“Honest and moral,” she mimicked in a nasty voice. “Aren't there rules about having sex with a person you're supposed to be investigating?”

His hands clenched into fists and it was all he could do to keep from hitting her. He stood up and buzzed for Janice, pinning Violet with a look that at least kept her from saying another word. “Ms. Temple isn't satisfied with the work we've done for her,” he said when Janice appeared at the door. “Please make out a check for her entire deposit, plus interest, and bring it to me to sign.”

Violet huffed and tossed her head. “I'll make certain you people don't ever get any more security work from Delilah, you can bet your bottom dollar on that,” she snapped, heading for the door. “And you can bet I'm going to hire someone who can keep his fly done up to find out what's really going on with your dear little Sameh Smith.”

Adam wasn't conscious of having moved until he was between Violet and the door. He blocked it with his body, towering over her. She took several hasty steps back into the room, cowed by his barely concealed ferocity.

His voice was quiet and deadly. “You've heard of slander, haven't you, Violet? I figure there's grounds for a charge here, unless you back off fast. If I hear of one more unfounded accusation against Sameh Smith, I assure you this firm will take action against you on her behalf.”

Violet's jowls quivered, and her mouth opened and shut several times before any words came out. “Don't you—how dare you threaten me?”

The tight smile he gave her looked more like a snarl. “No threat, Violet. I never make threats.” He waited a long mo
ment. “Just promises,” he added, his voice almost a whisper.

She'd scuttled out the door then, breathing as if she were about to have a stroke.

He'd found Bernie and told him what he'd done. Bernie, of course, was overjoyed. “Glad you've come to your senses,” he said with a wide grin, giving Adam a hearty thump on the shoulder.

But Adam knew he hadn't come to his senses at all. If anything, he'd lost them, and Sameh was to blame. He thought of her constantly. Time after time, he went over everything he knew about her in endless detail, trying to analyze and make sense of the things she'd said.

Was she really a mental case? Or… He never managed to get past that or, because the alternative—believing Sameh was everything she claimed to be—was unthinkable.

And the whole time his logic wrestled with the question of who Sameh was and where she came from, the fact that he'd acted like a total bastard the last time he was with her gnawed at his conscience. In the small hours of the night, he'd examined his relationships with women and squirmed, unable to deny that there might be some truth to what Sameh had said—that he used sex to avoid a lot of other things in his life. He'd tried to remember one single woman, except his mother, with whom he'd had a meaningful relationship that excluded sex, and failed.

He told himself he was furious with Sameh for bringing out emotions and feelings he'd spent a lifetime concealing. He tried to convince himself he was well rid of her, but even as he did so, he knew he was lying to himself all over again.

From the first moment he'd set eyes on Bernie's photos of her, he'd wanted her in his arms, in his bed, and that
resolve hadn't changed one bit, except to grow even stronger as he got to know her.

He'd never known failure with a woman he desired. It bothered him more than he could bear to admit that he was failing with Sameh. Her appearance here in the office today had seemed like a reprieve. It had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed not to try to seduce her on the floor of the bathroom.

Like he'd told her, he was willing to go along with whatever conditions she imposed if that's what it took to go on seeing her. She wanted to be friends, they'd be friends, he told himself with grim determination.

Anyway, he'd read somewhere that friends ended up in bed together with amazing regularity.

 

“I
T'S NICE THAT
you're growing up, boss,” Janice said, smacking a file he'd asked for down on his desk the morning after Sameh and Frances had visited the office.

“What's that supposed to mean?” He and the rest of the security force at Blue Knights had worked half the night providing security for some of Hollywood's most visible stars, always a hair-raising endeavor. Adam had only had three hours' sleep at best, but for some reason he felt good this morning—too good to let even Janice's barbed remarks get under his skin.

She gave him a dazzling smile. “Well, you seem to have given up Barbie dolls for real women, if Sameh's any indication. She's a breath of fresh air after the bimbos you usually attract. She's vegetarian, you know.”

“I guessed.”

“Well, I am, too.”

He hadn't guessed. He'd never really had many actual conversations with Janice. He'd been trying to figure out
where to take Sameh for dinner that night. “Where do you vegetarian types eat, anyhow?”

Janice gave him a rundown on every health food restaurant in California. “Sameh's going to be good for you, Adam. If you cut flesh out of your diet, you'll stop being so aggressive. Did you know that?”

He looked at her in mock amazement. “Me, aggressive?”

“Yup, you, aggressive.” She gave him one of her looks, but there wasn't as much punch to it as usual. “Y'know, I've been thinking of resigning. Sameh picked up on it when we were talking, God knows how. We're both secretaries at the moment, and we were discussing how it's not very satisfying as a long-term career choice.”

Adam gaped at her. Janice, resign? This was serious. This could be a calamity. Janice was the reason the office ran as well as it did. She had more organizational skills in her little finger than he and Bernie had put together and she knew more than either of them about the files. Alarm bells jangled as he ran through a mental list of things that might induce her to stay, starting off with more money, but before he could start begging, she added, “Sameh came up with a neat idea.”

Adam knew a little about Sameh's ideas. He just hoped to God it didn't have anything to do with witchcraft or sorcery.

“She asked why I didn't get my investigator's license. She said I'd be good at it, and y'know, I think she's right. In spite of all this equality stuff, it just never occurred to me that I could be a partner in the business instead of a secretary.”

It hadn't occurred to Adam, either, and he'd bet it had never crossed Bernie's mind. It was a disturbing concept, Janice as a partner, but it was also a relief to know that she wasn't going to walk out on them.

“Guess I was too close to the problem, huh, boss? Anyhow, I'm going to register for some classes at night school. Criminology, sociology, psychology, that sort of thing. I'm really grateful to Sameh for coming up with this.”

Sociology. Psychology. Adam hadn't taken any such courses, and he knew damn well Bernie hadn't. Maybe they'd better register for a couple themselves, or their future female partner would outsmart both of them.

 

F
RIDAY NIGHT, HE TOOK
Sameh to I Love Juicy, a vegetarian restaurant on Melrose Avenue in Hollywood. Janice had recommended it highly it seemed she ate there often.

Sameh's hand was better. She'd replaced his bandage with a wide yellow one. She wore snug jeans that affected his blood pressure, and a soft purple top that turned her eyes sapphire and skimmed her breasts like a promise. The food was unfamiliar, but once he got through the puzzle of ordering, it tasted all right. God alone knew what was in it, though.

Sameh chattered on about Kate and Corey, about the book that Delilah was writing and about a boy she'd met while jogging that morning. “His name's Troy, he's only fourteen,” she confided over dessert—huge slabs of apple pie. Here at least Adam was on familiar food ground. “He was going through garbage cans, looking for something to eat.” Her blue eyes were troubled. “It's a terrible thing for children to be that hungry,” she said.

Alarm bells jangled in Adam's head as she described how she'd taken Troy back with her to Delilah's house, sneaked him into the kitchen and fed him breakfast before Violet came in and caught them. Violet had had a fit, ordered Troy off the premises and given Sameh a tongue-lashing.

“Violet's an unevolved soul. I'm afraid I told her so this
time. Of course, I also went straight to Delilah and told her what I'd done, and she was more understanding.”

Adam had never dreamed there'd be a situation in which he sympathized with Violet. He put his fork down. “Sameh, I hate to say this, but Violet's right this time. You have to be more careful. These kids aren't always what they seem to be,” he began, and then stopped at the outraged look on Sameh's face.