Sensual Confessions - Brenda Jackson [60]
Still, the flowers were pretty, a mix of fresh roses, sunflowers, lilies, daisy poms and other varieties Sam couldn’t name, and all beautifully arranged inside a green glass vase. There was nothing about the flowers that would indicate the person who’d sent them was devious rather than thoughtful.
Sam checked her watch and then pushed back from her desk to stand. She didn’t want to look at the flowers any longer. “I’m going out to grab some lunch,” she said.
Five pairs of eyes shifted to her and stared. She put her arms across her chest. “Don’t any of you even think it.”
“And what do you think we’re thinking?” Luke asked.
She lifted her chin. “That one of you, possibly all of you, intend to be my shadow.”
“And you have a problem with that?” Blade asked.
Sam’s gaze slowly moved to him. He was glaring at her and she glared right back. She couldn’t help the cynical smile that touched her lips. “What’s in this for you, Blade? We’re not exactly bosom buddies. In fact, the last time we talked we decided that we don’t even like each other, especially after last night.”
Too late she’d realized she had said the wrong thing, and quickly wondered why she’d said it at all. She had wanted to strike out at something and he was an easy target. The dark eyes staring at her became darker and his jaw tightened. His hands were opening and closing in tight fists, and she wondered if he’d decided to wring her neck, after all.
He slowly turned to the others and said in a rather calm voice, “Excuse us a moment. Sam and I need to have a private conversation.”
It was on the tip on her tongue to say no, they didn’t need to have anything, but then she changed her mind. It was best to get it over and done with now. She’d thought last night was the end of things, but apparently it wasn’t.
None of the others, she noted, seemed inclined to hang back. Luke, however, leaned over and whispered in Blade’s ear, but loud enough for everyone to hear, “Hey, man. Go easy on her. Remember, until they catch this guy you’re still a suspect.”
Blade’s eyes sharpened, but hers rolled. She was glad when Mac all but shoved him out the door. When the door closed behind them, Sam decided to sit back down in her chair. If Blade wanted to stand during their confrontation, that was his business.
“So, what do we have to talk about?” she asked.
He didn’t say anything for a long while. He just stood there and stared at her.
“Well, I’m waiting and I don’t have all day, Blade.”
She knew she was goading him again, deliberately being a pain in the ass. But for some reason she couldn’t help it. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Last night should have been the last she’d seen of him, at least for a good while. He was a player and she had played him. He was supposed to hate her guts. He should be spitting on the ground she walked on, or better yet, sticking pins in a voodoo doll that bore her likeness.
But instead he was here. He had all but burst into her office like a madman, as if he was a former lover or even her current one. The entire time Detective Adams sat asking her questions, he’d stood across the room, propped against the wall with his eyes glued to her.
“Why didn’t you tell Detective Adams everything, Sam?”
She logged off her computer and then turned and looked at him. “Everything like what?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Like how you like getting your kicks as a player hater by playing guys. Did you ever think doing that kind of crap might catch up to you one day? Did it ever cross your mind that somewhere along the way you might have pissed some guy off big-time?”
She rolled her eyes, something she’d found herself doing a lot around him. “Hey, Blade, it’s not that serious. Does every woman you dump come gunning for you?”
He came around the desk and pulled back her chair and then pinned her in with his arms braced on both sides. He leaned down, in her face, and nailed her with his gaze, as if he wanted to make sure he had her absolute attention.