The Man She Can't Forget

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The Man She Can't Forget Page 2

by Maggie Cox


  Gabriel’s senses were suddenly awash in a sea of poignant and heartfelt memory. As if to compound his feelings, he saw that the cream dresser was full of engaging family pictures, and taking pride of place was an eye-catching photograph of Sean as he must have looked before he died. His mischievous brown eyes were full of laughter and his wide smile highlighted the chipped front tooth that Gabriel had accidentally broken when he’d too zealously bowled a cricket ball in the garden for him to bat. He had been the closest friend that Gabriel had ever had, and even though he hadn’t kept in touch with him it cut him to the quick to think that he was no longer here....

  ‘Everything looks just the same,’ he remarked huskily, reaching his hand up to loosen the shirt collar that suddenly felt constricting.

  ‘Mum and Dad aren’t great lovers of change. They’re old-fashioned like that.’ Lara smiled fondly. ‘Not to mention sentimental. They’ve become even more so since losing Sean.’ Her smile vanished and, clearly needing a moment, she turned towards the sink to fill the kettle.

  ‘It must have been a terrible shock to you all to receive the news that he’d died,’ Gabriel murmured sympathetically.

  ‘It was. One minute we were talking to him on Skype, hearing all about the events of his day, and the next...’ Sadly shaking her head, Lara turned off the tap that had been gushing water into the kettle then moved across to the generous granite worktop to plug it into a socket to boil. ‘How do you like your tea?’ she asked, tucking some of her glossy dark hair behind her ear as she turned back.

  ‘Don’t you remember?’ Gabriel teased, recalling with pleasure the numerous cups of tea an eager-to-please young Lara had made him whenever he’d stayed over or visited Sean. ‘I used to tell you that, next to your mum, you made the best cup of tea in the world.’

  ‘You did, didn’t you?’ Her generous mouth curved with pleasure. ‘Okay, then, I’ll see if I can remember how you like it. Don’t tell me—just let me have a go. Pull up a chair and make yourself comfortable.’

  He didn’t need to be asked twice. This house was the only place he’d ever known that really felt like home, with everything that that word represented.

  Jaded and tired from the demands and rigours of inhabiting the soulless world of high finance for what had probably been too many years to stay wholly sane, Gabriel had a secret yearning for some simplicity and comfort in his life. He was frankly weary of the kind of comfort epitomised by the opulent living of a lot of bankers in New York, although he himself had embraced it, thinking it was his ‘due’ for working so hard and making others as rich as he was.

  He hadn’t fully explored the realisation, but he was longing for the kind of comfort that might be attained by being amongst people who were authentic, with no hidden agendas and the ability simply to be themselves. In short, people who were naturally good rather than unscrupulously self-seeking.

  And even as he had the thought his mind went straight away to Lara’s parents. They had welcomed him into their home without any judgement or expectation when their son had befriended him, and had even expressed their sadness that he’d been raised by a wealthy but often absent uncle who more often than not had left him in the care of a hired nanny. They were appalled that Gabriel had never known the joys of growing up in a ‘real’ family as Sean had.

  ‘Would you like some toast and marmalade with your cuppa?’

  ‘Sorry...what did you say?’ Blinking up into the melting chocolate-brown eyes of the lovely brunette who was suddenly standing in front of him, for a surreal moment Gabriel honestly forgot who or where he was because she was so enchanting.

  Her brow puckering, Lara seemed taken aback that he hadn’t heard her the first time. Perhaps she didn’t know how mesmerising she was? He shrugged. He doubted it. He hadn’t met a beautiful woman yet who wasn’t intimately aware of her own appeal. Beauty was a very desirable cachet in the avaricious world that he inhabited—not to mention an asset. In his opinion every attractive woman who aimed for the top in his profession had no compunction in using such an advantage to the max.

  ‘I just asked if you’d like some toast and marmalade with your tea....’

  ‘Just tea will do thanks. Then, if you’ve got the time, I’d like you to sit down and talk to me. We’ve got quite a bit of catching up to do. It’s been years since we’ve seen each other, Lara, and as well as talking about Sean I’d like to hear what you’ve been doing with yourself.’

  ‘Okay.’ She chewed down on her lip, as if taken aback by the invitation. ‘But didn’t you say you’d just flown back from New York? Don’t you need to at least relax and unwind for a little while after your flight?’

  Gabriel couldn’t help but smile. It seemed that the once self-conscious and unsure teenager had inherited some of her mother’s endearing natural ability to think of others’ needs first. It wasn’t something he often came across in his world—if ever—and he had to admit it was appealing. But he could just imagine the response of his more cynical male colleagues should they meet Lara and be exposed to her kind disposition for very long. They’d wonder if she was ‘for real’.

  ‘I assure you that right now I don’t need to do anything else other than be here with you, Lara.’

  If ever a man’s statement had sounded more seductive and appealing then Lara hadn’t heard one. And the huskily low-pitched velvet cadence of Gabriel’s deeply arresting voice couldn’t help but render the words even more provocative. Her insides felt as though they’d suddenly been heated by a fiercely burning erotic flame. Could it be that her teenage fascination for this man hadn’t died with his rejection of her at that party, but instead had been quietly simmering inside all these years?

  The realisation was akin to standing on a crumbling cliff edge and frantically trying to maintain her balance. It had been thirteen long years since she’d seen this man. She knew nothing about his life now, or what had transpired in the years since they’d last met, and she was pretty certain that if he had any interest in her at all at this moment it was only because of his past association with her family.

  For all Lara knew, the man could be happily married to a stunningly perfect model wife in New York—the kind epitomised by the glossy magazines—with a brood of pretty blue-eyed offspring to boot. Her stomach helplessly churned at the thought.

  ‘All right, then. I’ll make us some tea and then we’ll catch up. Just don’t expect any tales of adventure or excitement. I live a very quiet and ordinary life that’s probably miles away from how you live yours.’

  Giving him a faintly wry smile, she moved back across the kitchen to the granite worktop and hurriedly arranged the teapot and matching china cups and saucers on a tray. But her hands were visibly trembling as she poured hot water onto the tea leaves, and her heart was pounding as though it would never be at ease or calm again....

  They moved into the living room to drink their tea, and Lara opened the generous-sized patio doors that led out onto the garden so that they might enjoy the sunshine. She also didn’t want to miss the opportunity of hearing the birds sing. That was one of the reasons why early morning had always been her favourite time of the day.

  ‘You’ve made it just how I like it,’ her handsome visitor announced, taking a sip of his tea as he lowered his long-limbed frame down into one of the comfortable Chesterfield armchairs. ‘You’ve got a good memory.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Suddenly self-conscious, Lara sat down in the chair opposite him and stirred her own tea. She’d never been able to drink the beverage without at least one sugar. She’d bet that Gabriel never touched the stuff. Even though he’d acquired a couple of lines on his forehead over the years, his lean, toned physique radiated the vim and vigour of a seasoned athlete rather than someone who spent his days immersed in making eye-popping deals on Wall Street.

  The thought prompted a question. ‘You said you’d just come
back from New York? Is this a flying visit or are you going to stay for a while?’

  A definitely guarded expression stole into his mesmerising blue eyes and his lean jaw clenched a little. Leaning forward, he placed his cup and saucer down onto the walnut coffee table arranged between them.

  ‘I’m not sure. Right now I’ve no idea how long I’ll stay. I’ve come back to deal with some legalities regarding my uncle’s estate, to tell you the truth. He died a few weeks ago and I’m his sole beneficiary.’

  ‘Oh, Gabriel, I’m so sorry...about your uncle dying, I mean. Did you come back for the funeral?’

  ‘I did. Anyway, I have a meeting with his solicitor tomorrow.’

  He shook his head, as though the matter pained rather than gratified him. But then why should he be pleased by the fact that his only family member had died? Lara reasoned. Even if he had bequeathed him everything he owned? If the scant details that she knew about Gabriel’s upbringing by his uncle were right, then surely he would have preferred to have the man’s love and affection, not to mention caring support, when he was a boy, rather than be left all his worldly goods when he died? Did he even need them when he was purported to be so wealthy in his own right?

  ‘Did you see your uncle much over the years after you left to go to New York?’

  ‘No, I didn’t. We weren’t close. He adopted me when my mother—his sister—decided she wasn’t cut out to be a mother after all...that she wanted her freedom above all else. At least he was decent enough to do that, I suppose.’

  ‘What about your father?’ Lara frowned. ‘What happened to him?’

  In answer Gabriel’s brow creased in a formidable scowl. ‘Your guess is as good as mine. My mother put him down as “unknown” on my birth certificate.’

  ‘How sad.’ The comment was out before she could check it.

  ‘Why? I grew up in an impressive home in a very desirable area and I wanted for nothing. What’s sad about that?’

  ‘It’s sad that you never knew your real father, or had a relationship with him, and it’s sad that you weren’t close to the uncle who adopted you—that’s all I meant.’

  ‘Well, don’t give it another thought. In the circles I move in I’m considered to be a great success, and everything I’ve achieved I’ve accomplished on my own. I wasn’t held back by the fact that I wasn’t close to my family or they to me. End of story.’

  But Lara guessed that was far from the end. She was pretty certain that anyone who’d been abandoned by their mother as a child must have a river of pain and anger flowing through them that couldn’t help but affect their sense of self-esteem and self-worth. But she sensed, too, that now wasn’t the time to try and press Gabriel into telling her more. He’d come to pay his respects to the family for Sean, not to be grilled by his friend’s sister about his less than idyllic upbringing.

  ‘Anyway, I’d like to hear about what you’ve been up to since we last met.’ Deftly, he changed the subject. ‘What do you do for a living? If I remember rightly, you were either going to be a vet or a politician. We had some passionate discussions, you, me and Sean, about setting the world to rights, didn’t we?’

  His comment made Lara burn with embarrassment as she remembered their often heated and animated discussions. Especially when she recalled that her views had always been the most passionate and vehement. But when you were sixteen you thought you knew everything. You could even fool yourself into believing that a more experienced older man could seriously fall for you, when, in truth, he was only flirting with you because he could....

  ‘Well, I didn’t become a vet or a politician,’ she said. ‘Being responsible for setting the world to rights was too tall an order, so I became a librarian instead.’

  ‘Well, well, well...a librarian?’ Gabriel’s expression was wry. ‘I know you loved books, but I always thought you were far too passionate to squirrel yourself away in some dusty hall, lending them out to the great unwashed public!’

  ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re not living in the Dickensian era.’

  Lara couldn’t help but bristle at his mocking tone, but at the same time she couldn’t help registering the disturbing fact that he’d called her ‘passionate’. Had he always thought that about her? The thought made her heart race even as she reminded herself that he’d once painfully rejected her.

  ‘Amongst other things, I issue books in a state-of-the-art college library with every bit of modern technology you can imagine at my disposal. If you think I chose a “safe” option in becoming a librarian, instead of a vet or a politician, then I can assure you that dealing every day with the demands of diverse and sometimes tricky students is no walk in the park.’

  ‘But you love it?’ Lifting a dark eyebrow, Gabriel smiled. ‘I’m glad that you found a career you enjoy, Lara. And, just for the record, I still think you’re passionate. I’m sure you would be whatever you decided to do in life. You can’t help your nature.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘AND WHAT ABOUT YOU, GABRIEL?’ Lara asked, feeling suddenly hot again, because she seemed to be the focus of attention and she would much prefer to learn more about him. ‘What line of work are you in these days? Are you still involved in finance?’

  The smile Gabriel returned was faintly rueful. ‘Yes, I am.’

  ‘What exactly do you do? I mean, do you have a job title?’

  In answer he rose to his feet, and it was clear to Lara that her questions were unsettling him.

  ‘I’m a CRO on Wall Street—and, before you ask, that stands for Chief Risk Officer. I deal with analysing risk-and-reward formulas in financial businesses and banks.’

  ‘Oh.’ She raised her shoulders in a shrug, feeling none the wiser with the explanation. ‘It sounds complicated.’

  ‘Does it?’ A visible muscle flinched at the side of his carved cheekbone. ‘At any rate, I’d advise you not to lose any sleep trying to figure it out.’

  ‘Meaning you don’t think I’m intelligent enough to understand?’

  ‘You always did take umbrage when you thought I was being mocking, didn’t you? Perhaps you should try not to take things so personally.’

  As Lara mulled over the comment, to try and ascertain exactly what he meant, Gabriel moved across to where she sat, leaned down and gathered her hands in his. Then he silently pulled her to her feet.

  There wasn’t an adequate description for the huge wave of both panic and pleasure that suddenly engulfed her...except maybe abject disbelief that it was happening. Over the years, she had fantasised many times about what it might be like if Gabriel ever touched her or held her close as if he meant it, and while her heart sang to have him near she couldn’t help but remember the time when he’d so purposefully moved her away from him and told her he could never be for her. But even that agonising memory couldn’t stop her from thinking that being close to him like this felt so—so right.

  Then she realised that his brilliant blue gaze was examining her with a searching intensity that couldn’t help but make her apprehensive.

  ‘Tell me about Sean,’ he commanded quietly, his tone almost reverent, as though even uttering his friend’s name out loud distressed him.

  Relieved that it wasn’t anything she’d inadvertently done or said that had made him study her so intently, Lara took a nervous swallow. It still upset her terribly to talk about Sean and remember afresh that he had died. The thought was akin to sharpened cold steel being plunged into her heart.

  ‘What do you want to know?’

  Gabriel didn’t release her and she found she was in no hurry to be free. His hands were large and warm and they made her feel strangely secure, made her ache for the kind of loving, sensual protection that only a man like him could provide. She was suddenly aware of a small vein throbbing in his forehead.

  ‘Why—how did he contract mal
aria?’ he enquired huskily. ‘Don’t volunteers have to have some kind of protection before going out into these godforsaken places?’

  ‘Of course they do.’ Lara was taken aback by the underlying rage she heard in his voice...touched that he still felt so strongly about Sean after all these years.

  She was angry, too, that the brother she’d loved so dearly had been ripped from her so suddenly and without warning, and the wounds of that loss were so great she feared they might never heal. Yet she wouldn’t run away from grief, no matter how hard it hurt. She’d made a vow to face it head-on and not wound her heart further by denying how she felt. Something told her that it would be disrespectful to Sean if she did. But still, she utterly sympathised with Gabriel’s confusion and pain.

  ‘He had all the necessary jabs and medical examinations before he went over there,’ she said softly, ‘but malaria is caused by a mosquito bite from an infected mosquito, as I’m sure you probably know. Shortly after his death, a tear in the netting over his bed was discovered. Unfortunately the charity was always short of the money to be able to replace the old ones when they were no longer any good.’

  ‘So he was given a faulty mosquito net?’ His tone disparaging, Gabriel abruptly dropped Lara’s hands and stepped away.

  Feeling both bereft of his touch and chilled by the memory of how Sean had died, she crossed her arms over her cotton shirt and nodded sadly. ‘It seems so.’

  As if he didn’t know what to do with his rage to contain it, he strode over to the other side of the room to stare blindly out at the sunlit garden. Suddenly he spun round again to face her. ‘How could Sean have been such an idiot?’ he asked angrily.

  ‘What?’ The brutal question had the same effect on Lara as if Gabriel had slapped her hard across the face.

  ‘I mean, why didn’t he think of the consequences of being so careless about his own welfare? Probably because he’d never dream of putting himself first—and that was the problem. Why else would he accept a faulty net and risk being bitten? Even if he hadn’t realised it wasn’t intact. He should have checked. But he was always too busy thinking about others, wasn’t he? No wonder he went into charity work. What a waste that turned out to be.’

 

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