Seduction’s Canvas (Crimson Romance) by K.M. Jackson Page A

startled. “What kind of vibe?” How could there be a vibe? Gabby had barely come in contact with Thorn.
    “Just a vibey type of vibe.” Sam could hear the smug assuredness in Gabby’s tone and it was starting to grate on her nerves. “There was something in that across-the-room chemistry between the two of you. Sparks were about to fly. And then the encounter with that guy and how he came to your rescue … that will definitely not be the end of things.”
    Oh hell. She hated that her friend was so on point. “Well,” she squeaked out.
    “Well what?” Gabby said excitedly. “See, I knew it!”
    “Oh, stop going on, will you. It was nothing much. Just a kiss.” A mind blowing, heart stopping, practically orgasmic kiss, but still, technically just a kiss. Well, two kisses, actually.
    “Come on. Nothing is just a kiss.”
    “Please, chill. A kiss can be just a kiss.” But as she said the words, she could practically feel Gabby’s eyebrows rising from over the phone. She answered with a decided, “Humph.”
    Sam heard the laughter bubbling in Gabby’s voice. “You’re too much. I’m just saying that nothing is just a kiss no matter what you think — and that’s especially true when it comes to guys like him.”
    “What do you mean guys like him?”
    “Just that I know how you are with guys like him. He has bad boy written all over him. Just the type to push your buttons and, better yet, your father’s. Hey, I give you points for stopping where you did. Now let’s see how long it lasts. Let’s seeeee, it’s now what time? Five-fifteen?”
    Samara growled. “Oh, shut it, Ms. Know It All. Bye.”
    Buttons pushed indeed.
    • • •
    Mark nodded his thanks to the cashier as he picked up his coffee from the corner deli. He’d had to get out of his place and clear his mind. As it was, some woodwork, a workout, his business meeting and a ride did nothing to clear the image of Samara Leighton walking back into her apartment where a waiting Peter Moss sat.
“She’s not for you.”
    Yep, in that moment he was back to being that helpless, rejected kid all over again, hearing big old Howard Leighton’s voice. As Samara had closed the door and he heard the click, it took all he had to not push back and fight and say, “Hey, look this way. I’m here. You are for me.”
    What an idiot he was. Of course Samara Leighton wasn’t for him. One look in those gorgeous, calculated, player eyes and he knew she was every bit the shark her father was. Yeah, she had her share of demons and sure she tried her best to hide her true nature playing at this downtown scene, but he saw her make her choice today and her words, if not her actions, were perfectly clear. She wanted her space and specifically space from him. The rough boy from the Bronx who was not quite up to her station.
    Mark checked the lid on his coffee and backed out the deli door. He did a quick swivel turn, ready to make his way up the block, when he almost barreled, chest to chest, into a startled looking Samara Leighton.
    “I see you’re still going way too fast.”
    Her voice was like a beacon signaling him right back into her orbit.
    Freaking perfect.
    And just when he was getting a couple of miles out of her range. He swept her a glance. She was back to looking her downtown artist, every girl self. There were no traces of the chic city chick who he caught slipping out with Moss earlier. Not that he was watching, much.
    “Hello.” He stepped back to let her into the store, but she paused. “Are you going into the store?”
    She shook her head, seemingly distracted. Was it him or did she look a little flushed?
    “You alright?”
    And with that question, her eyes instantly became a cool plane. It was amazing how she could turn it off and on. He suspected not many people caught it, but it was there. She gave him a friendly smile. “I’m good. Just heading home. I was just wondering what time it was.”
    “It’s about five-thirty. Why? You got