“In a way, yes.” Sam went to the bed and ran a hand over the purple quilt. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think I’m better than those who don’t have any. Quite the contrary. I see it as a great responsibility. Although”—she stopped and bit her lip—“it’s a moot point since by Monday morning I won’t have any money or any power if I lose the hunt.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I have no doubt you will.” Samantha turned and walked up to him, her hips swaying, her hands clasped to her bosom. “But I didn’t really invite you up here to talk strategy.”
“You said you did.”
“I lied.” Sam placed a hand on his chest and bored her eyes into his. Her voice grew husky as she asked, “Do you have any idea how long it has been since I’ve been with a man?”
“How would I?”
“Let’s just say I rarely permit myself the luxury. But I’ll confess something to you.” Her breath warmed his neck as she quietly said, “I’ve wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you.”
“Do tell.”
“There’s something about you.” Sam touched his chin. “It’s not just that you’re so damn handsome. There’s something else, some quality I can’t describe.”
“Don’t get carried away.”
“I’m serious.” A puzzled look came over her as she traced a finger from his beard to his cheek and over to his ear. “I’ve puzzled over it no end and I can’t explain why I feel the way I do. I’ve met other men just as handsome who didn’t affect me the way you do.”
“Lucky me.”
“Please. I’m being serious and you’re being sarcastic.” Sam pursed her strawberry lips. “When a lady compliments a man the least the man can do is accept the compliment graciously.”
“My manners aren’t what they should be,” Fargo enlightened her. “And I don’t give a damn that they’re not.”
“Ah. The rough-hewn frontiersman. You don’t care for society or its rules. Is that how it goes?”
“I don’t much care for buffalo shit no matter what others call it.”
Samantha drew back. “I beg your pardon?”
“All the airs that you and those like you put on don’t count for a hill of beans. Nothing you do will live on after you. You’ve spent your whole life thinking you’re special because your family has money, but in the end you land in the ground like all those who don’t have any.”
“All is vanity, yes.” Samantha looked him up and down. “Frankly, I didn’t expect that of you.”
“I’m too dumb to think?”
“No, no, it’s not that.”
Fargo noticed that she didn’t offer a better reason. “I’ll make it plain. I like you but I don’t like your airs.”
Sam’s face colored and she fingered a button on her dress. “And I don’t like how you talk to me sometimes. But please. Let’s forget all that. We can’t help how we are. I didn’t ask for this life of privilege.”
“But you sure eat it up.”
Samantha turned her back to him. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go. I had other things in mind.”
Fargo saw her reflection in the mirror; she looked sad. Walking up behind her, he molded his body to hers, reached around, and cupped her mounds.
Sam gasped and arched her back. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“What you invited me up here to do.” Fargo squeezed and was rewarded with a soft groan and the grinding of her bottom against his manhood. He felt himself twitch, and smiled.
“I thought maybe you wouldn’t want to.”
“Airs or not, you’re female.” Fargo bent and kissed her neck and she twisted half around and cupped his chin.
“Is that all I am to you? You don’t care for me even a little bit?”
“I told you I like you. It’s not true love, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“It’s just that a woman likes to think she means something.”
Fargo could have told her that the hunger she stirred in him was no different from the hunger that stirred him to eat or the thirst that stirred him to drink. He could have said that she was putting on yet another air. But he didn’t. He said, “Every woman means something in bed.”
Sam blinked and cocked her head. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.”
“You’ll talk it to death if you’re not careful.” Fargo drew back. “Make up your mind.”
“I want to. I really do.”
“Then shut the hell up.” Fargo kissed her, hard, and thrust his tongue into her mouth. With his one hand he squeezed a breast while with his other he caressed her thighs and cupped her mound of Venus. Another moan escaped her, and she sucked on his tongue as if it were honey.
Pushing her back, Fargo eased her onto the bed. Her hair spilled about her head as she looked up at him in raw lust.
“God, I want you.”
“Don’t talk.” Fargo covered her mouth with his and sank down beside her. He ran his hands over her body, probing, massaging, stroking. She took off his hat and ran her fingers through his hair, then worked at his belt buckle.
Fargo reached down, took her hand, and placed it on his pole. She uttered a tiny mew and melted against him, her fingers wrapped around his member.
“Oh my,” she breathed.
Fargo began undoing the dress. A row of tiny buttons that ran from the nape of her neck to the small of her back took forever. He would as soon have ripped the dress off her. At last he slipped a hand underneath. A few tugs at the tie to her drawers and his hand brushed silken thighs. She squirmed as he kneaded them. Inching higher, he covered her nether lips.
“Yes! Ohhhh, yes!”
Fargo plunged a finger in. Her mouth became molten; she kissed and licked and sucked with abandon. A few moments more and he had her breasts free. Her nipples poked into his palms like tacks.
Samantha raked his shoulders with her nails and pushed against him. Her legs parted in invitation.
Fargo was so intent on their lovemaking that he almost didn’t hear the rasp of the latch. He was sucking on a nipple, and glanced over.
A young maid had entered and was staring at them. She wore the usual purple uniform and was holding a silver tray with a pitcher of water.
Fargo figured she would make a hasty exit but she stared at him with her lips curled in a strange sort of grin. He raised his head from Sam’s melons.
“What’s the matter? Why have you stopped?”
“We have company.”
Samantha twisted around. “What the hell? I gave instructions I wasn’t to be disturbed.”
Without looking behind her, the maid pushed the door shut with her foot.
“What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?” Samantha angrily demanded.
The maid threw the bolt.
“Are you insane? Leave this moment or you’re no longer in my employ.”
There was something about the maid’s face that triggered sudden alarm in Fargo. She had her hair up in a bun and it took him a few seconds to realize where he had seen her before—it was the female assassin who had tried to kill him on the
“What are you doing?” Sam asked.
The maid exploded into motion. In two bounds she was at the bed. She had hold of the pitcher and before Fargo could duck or dodge she swept it up and out. The water caught him full in the face, getting into his eyes and his nose. Blinking and backpedaling, Fargo swiped a sleeve across his eyes to clear his vision.
The pitcher and the tray hit the floor with a crash. The maid’s hands flashed behind her and flashed out
