Karma Girl Part 19

"Ah, the gourmet cuisine of the Bigtime society crowd."

For the next half hour, we regaled each other with tales from the society scene. Sam talked about how hard it was to avoid all the money-hungry debutantes and their marriage-minded mothers, while I spun horror stories about the drunken businessmen who hit on me, even though their stone-cold-sober wives stood all of two feet away.

The conversation moved on to other topics. I told Sam about my childhood and what it was like to grow up in the Tennessee hills. He told me about taking his father's small construction business and turning it into a multibillion-dollar empire that included everything from newspapers to computer companies to farming interests. Sam liked football, hockey, and other contact sports. I told him about my fascination with puzzles. We talked about favorite movies and books and music and more. If it hadn't been for the fact that I was in hiding, Sam was pretty much stuck with me, and we'd already had s.e.x, I would have sworn I was having the best first date of my life.

I'd never found someone who was so easy to talk to. Sam and I chatted about everything-except that night in my apartment. That was the one topic I didn't know how to bring up or even what to say. Was it good for you too? What was that thing you did with your hands that drove me crazy? Want to do it again? I didn't have the courage to ask Sam any of those questions, especially the last one.

Suddenly, Sam c.o.c.ked his head to one side. "Nine o'clock already."

"How do you know that?" I didn't see any clocks in the kitchen.

"There's an antique grandfather clock in the main hallway. It chimes the hours."

I could just barely hear the faint murmur. "You must have amazing hearing."

"Supersenses, remember?" Sam stood. "I'd love to stay, but I have to go downstairs. I'm on call tonight."

"You go ahead. I'll clean up." I rose from my stool as well.

"No, you cooked. I'll clean up."

We both reached for the same plate, and our hands collided. A jolt of electricity zipped up my arm at his touch. I stared into Sam's eyes. They really were the most brilliant eyes I'd ever seen. Eyes that could look right into your soul. I wondered what he saw in mine. Wondered if he could see how attracted I was to him. Wondered if he could see how much I desired him.

"Carmen, what's happening between us?" Sam asked, his silver eyes burning into mine.

I tugged the plate out of his hand, turned away, and dumped it in the sink. "I don't know what you're talking about." I made my voice light and cheery, even though I trembled inside.

"I'm talking about the night in your apartment. The night we made love."

"Oh. That." I closed my eyes to try to block out the memory. But I couldn't.

"Oh, that? Is that all you have to say?"

I faced him. Sam's eyes were dark and guarded, his body tense like a coiled spring.

"Honestly, I don't know what to say, other than it happened, and we can't change it."

"I don't want to change it."

"Then what do you want?" My heart smashed against my ribs with every breath like waves continuously cras.h.i.+ng on a sandy beach. The wrong word, the wrong look from Sam, and my heart would break once more.

"I want to know how it happened. Why. If you enjoyed it. How you felt . . . afterwards. If you thought KarmaGirl.

about me." Sam ran his hand through his thick, dark hair. "I don't know about you, but I don't do that sort of thing."

"What sort of thing?"

"Sleep with people I barely know."

"Never?"

Sam shook his head. "Never. I don't sleep around, especially not with the women I save. I'm not that kind of superhero."

"Why not? I'm sure you get lots of offers." He had to, given how scrumptious he looked in his tight, leather suit.

"It's not fair. They don't owe me anything, especially not their bodies. I save people because I want to, not because I expect some reward."

"And what about your personal life? When you're Sam Sloane?" All the tall, beautiful supermodels I'd seen him squiring around Bigtime danced through my head.

He sighed. "Not then either. I have a hard time trusting women, letting them get close to me, what with the secret ident.i.ty and all."

"So why did you sleep with me? I would think after what happened with Tornado you would hate me.

That you would want nothing to do with me. Ever." The words popped out before I could stop them.

"After Travis died, I did blame you, Carmen. I did hate you."

Sam's words pierced my heart. I closed my eyes.

"But I came to realize that Travis's death wasn't your fault."

"Of course it was," I snapped. "How could it not be?"

Sam shook his head. "You might have exposed him, but he's the one who decided to take his own life.

Travis made that decision, not you, Carmen."

"But I drove him to it," I whispered. My stomach turned over.

"No. I don't think that and neither should you. Being exposed is a fear every superhero lives with. It's one of the job hazards. Travis knew that, he accepted the risk. We could have gotten through it, if only he'd given us a chance to."

Sam's words did little to comfort me. He might not blame me for Travis's death, but I knew the truth-it was my fault. It would always be my fault.

I'd learned the answer to one of my burning questions. I had to know the other one. "But why sleep with me?"

He stared at me as if the answer was obvious. "You're a desirable woman, Carmen."

I snorted. "Oh get real."

"Excuse me?"

"Sam, you're an incredibly handsome man. You look better in a business suit than any guy I've ever seen. Not to mention the fact you're smart, charming, and incredibly rich. You're every woman's fantasy. And when you put your superhero suit on, well, let's just say it doesn't hurt matters." I gestured at my ratty jeans and T-s.h.i.+rt. "I, on the other hand, am not the stuff men's dreams are made of."

Sam t.i.tled my chin up until my eyes met his. "You're a beautiful, strong, intelligent woman, Carmen Cole. A man would have to be a fool not to want you."

The sincerity in his eyes startled me. Could billionaire Sam Sloane really be attracted to me? Could he want me like I wanted him? Could our time together actually have meant something to him?

The image of Matt and Karen doing the deed flashed through my head. "Tell that to my ex-fiance."

KarmaGirl.

"He was an enormous idiot to let you get away." Sam grinned. "Besides, have you seen Crusher lately?

She's almost as ripped as Scorpion. That can be a little intimidating, even for a superhero."

His catty comment brought a smile to my face. I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thanks for that. And for lying."

Sam stared at me. Then, he backed me up against the sink and put his hands on either side. I caught a whiff of his musky, manly scent. His silver eyes locked with mine.

"What-what are you doing?" I asked, breathless.

"Proving to you I'm not lying."

Sam lowered his lips to mine. For a moment, I couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't believe this was happening again. I'd never thought it would. Never thought I would be this lucky.

Sam nibbled at my lips. I opened my mouth, and he slipped his tongue inside. Desire exploded deep within me. Every part of my body hummed and throbbed at Sam's firm touch. At the feel of his lips on mine.

"I can't think straight whenever I'm near you. All I want to do is touch you, Carmen. Taste you. All of you," Sam whispered. He pressed hot kisses against my throat.

I buried my hands in his thick, silky hair and pulled him closer. I wanted him to touch me. All of me.

Sam picked me up and set me on the edge of the sink. His hands trailed up my leg to the junction of my thighs, stroking my wet heat. I hissed. The touch scorched me, even through the thick denim of my blue jeans. I ran my hands up and down his back, marveling at his taut muscles. Why did the man always have to have a s.h.i.+rt on? He'd look so much better without one. He'd feel so much better without one.

We kissed again, long and hard and deep. Sam's hands ran up my body and dipped under the bottom of my T-s.h.i.+rt. His hands cupped my swelled b.r.e.a.s.t.s, while his fingers traced over my hard nipples. Waves of pleasure cascaded through me. Thank heavens I'd decided not to wear a bra today.

Sam pushed my s.h.i.+rt up, and I s.h.i.+vered as the cool air hit my flushed skin. I wrapped my legs around his waist and leaned back, knowing what he wanted. It was the same thing I did. Sam dipped his head to my stomach. He kissed his way up my chest and took my exposed nipple in his mouth. He ran his tongue round and round and round until I felt dizzy from the pleasure of it.

I moaned, on fire, burning alive from the inside out. There was only one thing that could quench the heat in me, the raging need. Sam.

Suddenly, Sam froze, his tongue hot and wet on my breast. A second later, someone called out.

"Sam? Are you up here?" Fiona's lilting voice echoed through the manor.

My eyes widened. Fiona was the very last person I wanted to find out about Sam and me. She'd fry me alive.

"She's coming this way," Sam said.

I dropped my arms from Sam's neck and pushed him away. I pulled my T-s.h.i.+rt down, darted around him, ran to the island, and lunged onto my stool.

"Carmen, wait-" Sam put his hand on my arm.

Sweat popped out on the nape of my neck. My temperature shot up at least five degrees.

"Well, isn't this a cozy little scene?" Fiona Fine called out from the doorway.

I froze. And tried not to think about what had just happened between us. It was a good thing Fiona wasn't a psychic like her father.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked.

Fiona pulled out a third stool at the head of the island and wormed her way in between Sam and me. She KarmaGirl.

sat down and flipped her long, blond hair over her shoulder. Every strand landed perfectly back into place. I eyed Fiona's outfit. The fas.h.i.+on designer had on a neon pink dress dotted with black-and-white spots. She looked like a cross between a flamingo and a Dalmatian. Somehow though, Fiona still looked fabulous. I stared down at my T-s.h.i.+rt that read ADDICTED TO SHOPPING, CHOCOLATE, AND MEN. NOT NECESSARILY IN THAT ORDER. Truer words had never been printed. I was addicted all right. To Sam Sloane.

"We were just finis.h.i.+ng up dinner," Sam explained. His voice was cool and calm, even though we'd been engaged in some hot 'n' heavy action a minute before. How had he regained his composure so quickly? My heart was still beating so fast I thought it might explode.

"Really? I'm famished." Fiona reached for a piece of chicken.

"Actually, Carmen cooked tonight. You should try her fried chicken. It's excellent."

Fiona's hand hovered over the plate. I watched as the other woman debated with herself, weighing her burning hunger against her intense dislike of me. Fiona dropped her hand.

"Actually, I had chicken for lunch. And fried chicken isn't terribly good for one's figure. Too much fat, too many calories."

"I thought you weren't concerned about calories, what with your fiery metabolism and all," I said in a snide tone.

Sam coughed, although it sounded more like a laugh. Fiona glared at both of us.

"Your loss," I continued on in a cheerful voice, trying to take my mind off my latest encounter with Sam. "I make excellent fried chicken. The best there is, or so I've been told."

Fiona gave me a sour look.

"So how was your day, Fiona?" Sam asked, changing the subject.

"The usual. Made some sketches for the new collection. Screamed at my suppliers. Sewed my fingers off. By the way, Sam, I have some more models I'd love to introduce you to. Really beautiful women."

Fiona shot me a pointed look.

I gripped the counter so hard my knuckles turned white. "So that's where Sam gets all his dates from. I didn't know you ran an escort service, Fiona."

I was being b.i.t.c.hy, but I didn't care. Images of beautiful, buxom, blond models drooling all over Sam floated through my mind. I felt fat and inadequate and depressed. My ego deflated like a popped balloon. Who was I kidding thinking someone like Sam could be interested in me? I hadn't even been able to keep my ex-fiance away from my ex-best friend. How could I hang on to superrich, super-cool, supers.e.xy Sam for any length of time? Sure, we had great chemistry, but it took a lot more than that to make a relations.h.i.+p work.

"I take the models out as favors to Fiona, that's all." Sam responded almost as if he knew my dark, depressing thoughts. "Being seen with me helps them get other jobs. It ups their credibility or something like that. I'm not sure how it works."

"What it means is that the model is attractive to wealthy men. Wealthy men have wealthy wives or well-off ex-wives. Those wives want to look good for their husbands or potential husbands. They see a wealthy man with a model, and they want to look like her. Specifically, they want to wear what she's wearing in hopes of pleasing their men. So I let Sam take out my models, wearing my latest designs. The models get some exposure, Sam has some fun, and my business goes through the roof. Everybody wins."

Fiona's logic made sense in a weird sort of way. I hadn't thought she had anything more than a pretty face and hot disposition going for her. Maybe there actually was a brain beneath that golden hair. Still, I KarmaGirl.

didn't like the Sam having fun part. Not one bit.

Fiona tore into a biscuit and slathered it with b.u.t.ter.

"Speaking of well-off ex-wives, I did have a problem today with Joanne James."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? And how is Joanne?"

Although Joanne James was one of Bigtime's wealthiest women, she was also a notorious miser. The divorcee never met a penny she couldn't pinch a few more cents out of. I'd come to dread any society event she was involved in. Joanne James's champagne was not only flat, but watered down as well. Her cheapskate tendencies were another reason I'd always thought she might be an ubervillain. Evil types didn't like to part with their money, not a nickel of it, unless they absolutely had to.

"She tried to tell me that I had charged her too much for the couture gown I designed for her. I had a written contract right in front of her with the exact price and her signature on it, and she still insisted I was overcharging her. I wanted to scorch her with my eyeb.a.l.l.s. I almost set her dress on fire with her in it. Who does she think she is? I'm Fiera, for crying out loud. Protector of the innocent. Defender of democracy. I don't cheat people."