Double Dealing Read Online Free Page B

Beauvoir’s The
Second Sex in the original French.”
    “An early feminist?” Gabriel seemed mildly curious.
    “An early everything.” Samantha smiled reminiscently. “An
early beatnik, an early environmentalist, an early antinuclear power type, an
early women’s rights person. You name it.”
    “A natural revolutionary?” Gabriel asked dryly.
    “A natural independent,” Samantha corrected him. “She could
never become a true revolutionary because, although she loves causes, she also
likes people. Real revolutionaries have to be willing to sacrifice people to a
cause.”
    “I see. A humanist, not an urban guerrilla.” Gabriel nodded,
as if finally satisfied at having pegged the unknown woman.
    Samantha shrugged. “You may be right.” Humanist would be a
good term to describe Vera Maitland, Samantha thought. “She’d probably like
that.” Did Sinclair have to label everything and everyone? He’d said himself he
disliked unknown quantities. Perhaps it was his instinctive way of maintaining
control over situations. But he must be something of a fanatic about summing up
people and stuffing them into their proper niches if he went so far as to
categorize a woman he was never likely to meet! What a neat, analytical,
methodical sort of mind he must have, Samantha thought in silent amusement.
    She sincerely hoped she could resist the temptation to
occasionally provoke him. People with neat, methodical, pedantic sorts of minds
did not appreciate being baited, she knew from experience. It was a pity that they
made such irresistible targets to people like herself who preferred to move
through life at a much more hectic pace, relying on intuition as much, if not
more, than analysis.
    “What does your mother do when s-she’s not out demonstrating?”
Gabriel asked calmly, blithely unaware, apparently, of her thoughts.
    “Teaches socioeconomic theory at a small college back east.”
    “And are you truly your mother’s daughter?” he startled her
by asking.
    Samantha slitted her eyes briefly,
caught off guard. “If you mean am I cause-oriented, I’m afraid not,” she finally
said remotely. “I seem to have inherited a fair share of my father’s interest
in the more self-serving world of business.” But I am Vera Maitland’s daughter,
she told herself silently, fiercely. And you, Gabriel Sinclair, are going to
help me prove it!
    “Perhaps it’s just as well you don’t s-s-share your mother’s
devotion to causes. I get a bit nervous at the thought of doing business with
radicals. So unstable. So unpredictable,” he added, frowning. It was obvious he
didn’t approve of unpredictability in any form.
    Samantha’s mouth curved faintly at the corners as she realized
that she was finding his slight stutter almost endearing. A stupid reaction
under the circumstances, actually. The man was anything but endearing! His financial
success alone was proof of that. Men as quietly successful as Gabriel Sinclair
couldn’t afford genuinely endearing weaknesses. She mustn’t let her imagination
paint him other than what he obviously was.
    But it was odd to find herself discussing such a personal subject
as her mother’s unusual career with a man she intended to know only on a
business basis. How had they gotten started on such a personal topic?
    Gabriel’s strong, square hand reached for the teapot, clasping
the delicate curve of the handle and pouring tea with a precision and innate
grace which made her think of a Japanese tea ceremony. Every movement had meaning
and no motion was superfluous. He was that kind of man, she realized. Every
action would be planned and executed with an absolute efficiency. The knowledge
sent a small chill down her spine. It was going to be difficult curbing her own
far more dynamic, often impulsive methods. She couldn’t afford to scare him off
with such hints of “unpredictability.”
    “How are you feeling? Recovered from your therapist’s S&M
techniques?” Gabriel broke into her