by Maggie Cox
The second time he’d touched her, catching hold of her hand in the woods and smiling down at her, as though her company genuinely gave him pleasure, the sizzling jolt of electricity Lara had experienced when he put his hand round hers had left her feeling dizzy and confused. Such an extreme reaction to a simple friendly touch didn’t bode well for her peace of mind when the time came for her to say goodbye to Gabriel again. And this time she didn’t doubt his departure would be for good.
He would go back to his high-octane life on Wall Street and she would return to her much more simple and ordinary routine as a college librarian. Except that would be no consolation for watching her brother’s one-time charismatic best friend walk out of her life for a second time....
On their return from the woods they stood in the porch at the back of the house as Lara schooled Barney to wait while she and Gabriel removed their muddy footwear. Seeing that her companion’s black loafers were liberally weighed down and caked in once-oozing but now dried sludge, she let out a groan.
‘Oh, why, oh, why did they have to be suede?’ she asked, sincerely regretful that because of her Gabriel had ruined what was an undoubtedly expensive pair of shoes.
She could just imagine Sean shaking his head and saying, Not one of your best ideas, sis—taking Gabe on a woodland walk when he was wearing classy Italian loafers. What on earth were you thinking?
It took her aback to remember that he’d always referred to his friend as Gabe, not Gabriel. Lara had never been bold enough to do the same. Aside from that, Sean would have been right to wonder what she was thinking about. The trouble was her wonderful brother hadn’t realised that Lara never had been able to think clearly round Gabriel.
‘I should have lent you my dad’s walking boots,’ she reflected ruefully.
‘What size is he?’
‘He’s a nine.’
Grimacing as he stood up in the generous-sized utility room that his impressive physique had made appear suddenly small, Gabriel emitted a playful sigh. ‘Wouldn’t have been any good, I’m afraid. I’m a size twelve.’
Having removed her own boots, Lara rose to join him. ‘In any case, I think your lovely shoes are completely ruined. Were they very expensive?’ She flushed as she privately wondered how she could possibly find the money to replace them if they’d been even half as expensive as she guessed they had. God knew a college librarian didn’t earn a fortune....
‘If I told you, you’d probably read me the riot act for being so vain and wasteful. Forget about it. The damn shoes don’t matter. Anyway, I’ve got a spare pair in the car.’
‘You’ve got a spare pair in the car? Why didn’t you tell me?’
His arresting gaze made him look to be carefully considering the question. ‘I didn’t think about it. Besides, it’s no big deal. Now, if you’ll go and get me that shirt you promised, I’ll get out of this one and give it to you to put in the washing machine.’
He was already starting to unbutton the stained shirt as he spoke, and Lara suddenly panicked at the thought of seeing him standing there bare-chested.
‘Okay...won’t be a tick,’ she murmured, hurriedly turning towards the door that led out into the hall.
Her senses were already bombarded by Gabriel’s presence alone—how was she supposed to handle being presented with the arresting beauty of his naked male chest and act as though she were unaffected?
CHAPTER THREE
FOR A MAN WHO LIKED to be in command of situations, Gabriel found himself to be uncharacteristically all at sea in his old friend’s home with Lara. Being in that house again, and recalling some of the happiest memories he had ever known, made him yearn to replicate the feelings they evoked—the predominant one being a sense of belonging.
He hadn’t experienced that reassuring sense of being welcomed, being regarded without judgement or conditions being attached, since he’d left the UK all those years ago. God knew, the pressurised career he’d chosen wasn’t likely to engender anything close to that feeling amongst the single-minded and driven individuals he worked with. The phrase about them probably selling their own grandmothers if it made a profit often sprang to Gabriel’s mind.
From time to time it alarmed him to realise he was becoming equally mercenary, and he wasn’t proud of the fact. But in truth, like all addictions, it was hellishly hard to give up—and making money was definitely his drug of choice. Yet it was strange that he wasn’t exactly overjoyed at being bequeathed his uncle’s substantial residence, plus all his possessions and a generous monetary legacy.
All attending the man’s funeral had done for Gabriel was to remind him of the sense of abandonment and excoriating pain he’d lived with since he was a child and his mother had left, leaving him with a man who—although related to him by blood—had been as distant as the Milky Way and even less accessible.
And now, as well as the unwanted complication of having to deal with his uncle’s legacy, there was the totally unexpected dilemma of Lara. Just knowing that she was in the homely kitchen right now, preparing their lunch, shouldn’t give him the inordinate amount of pleasure that it did, but along with an undeniable sense of contentment that was how it made him feel. That in itself was unusual, because he hadn’t met a woman yet he trusted enough to relax with—except perhaps Peggy Bradley, Lara’s mother.
Occupying Lara’s father’s comfortable wing-backed chair in the living room, Gabriel knew his eyelids were drifting closed, but made no attempt to check their descent. Outside, the beneficent sun was shining and its soporific rays beamed in on him through the opened patio doors and inevitably made him feel sleepy.
On the scented summer air a distant melody floated by, teasing at the memory of a small gathering Sean had once spontaneously thrown at the house.... Lara in a long magenta-and-green dress, dancing for all she was worth, throwing her arms wide as if to embrace all that the world had to offer and drawing his eye more than once because she looked so pretty and so free....
‘Gabriel? Sorry to wake you, but lunch is ready. I thought we’d sit out in the garden and eat?’
Hearing the velvet-toned voice of the woman he’d been thinking about, and unsure whether he was still in the throes of his dream or not, Gabriel opened his eyes. His startled gaze was straight away captured by the heart-shaped face that had once been so familiar to him.
Now the innocent young girl that he remembered from his youth had turned into a woman who made him catch his breath and made his blood turn molten simply by looking at her. Devoid of any artifice or make-up, her skin was as fresh and clear as the petals of the creamiest rose, and her lips... Her lush lips were the shape and kind that would draw any man’s attention and make him long to know what they would feel like beneath his own if he were lucky enough to kiss them.
Straightening in the chair, he murmured, ‘I was dreaming about you....’ Playing for time in order to marshal his thoughts, he let a helpless smile tug at the edges of his mouth. ‘Yes, I was dreaming about you at a party Sean had once. You were just sixteen and you were dancing like some ethereal wild child to a Jimi Hendrix track. You looked so free and pretty. I remember thinking you would have fitted right into the era of peace and love in the sixties.’
Lara’s dark brows furrowed as though the reference displeased her. Clearly that particular recollection from the past didn’t fill her with the same wistful pleasure as it did Gabriel.
‘Sixteen was a horrible age for me. I was always so self-conscious and shy, and I sometimes said stupid things I didn’t mean and came to regret. I said something very stupid that night at the party.’
‘Did you? Well, you should put it behind you and forget about it. For goodness’ sake that was years ago, sweetheart, and if my recollections are right I seem to remember that there was plenty of alcohol doing the rounds that night—no doubt that was partly to blame. Besides, we can all say stupid thi
ngs sometimes. If you can’t be stupid when you’re sixteen, then when can you? Anyway, I was actually quite envious of you that night.’
‘Were you? Why?’
‘Because you looked so carefree. To me you represented a freedom that I longed for—the kind of freedom that no amount of money could buy me.’
Now it was his turn to feel self-conscious and awkward. Gabriel had never revealed anything quite so personal about how he felt to anyone before. Like many young men, the programming that he’d absorbed from an early age had taught him that expressing emotion was akin to revealing a weakness, and right then he kicked it strongly into touch.
Pushing out of his chair, he moved across the room to glance out at the sunlit garden again. Immediately he noticed that the wrought iron picnic table with its matching green umbrella was laid for lunch. It was just the diversion he needed. Too much introspection was liable to make him irritable. He was already regretting being quite so frank with Lara.
‘Were you saying something about us eating outside?’
‘Yes. Lunch is ready. Why don’t you go and make yourself comfortable and I’ll bring it out?’
* * *
Lara couldn’t get Gabriel’s remarks about how she had looked at Sean’s party out of her mind. At no point had he given any indication that he remembered spurning her—first when she had lifted her face up to his for a kiss and then by tactlessly suggesting there must be boys her own age who were interested in her and telling her he had his sights set on the slim blonde who was his tutor.
He hadn’t even taken the bait when Lara had mentioned that she’d said something stupid that night that she regretted. Had her flirtation with him been so insignificant to him that he didn’t even remember it? The fact that he’d said he’d been dreaming about her with what sounded like genuine admiration seemed too unreal for words. But, however seductive it sounded, Lara would remain on her guard. She wouldn’t let the immature behaviour of her past rule her present by repeating it.
But she also couldn’t forget Gabriel’s stark and heartfelt admission that her dancing that day had represented a freedom that he longed for—a freedom that ‘no amount of money’ had been able to buy for him. Had he been feeling trapped in some way?
She couldn’t suppress the longing that infused her that one day he might reveal more of his innermost feelings to her—at least as a friend. It was easy to glean the fact that he was troubled. In the short time they’d spent together since his turning up at the door she’d begun to intuit that Sean’s death wasn’t the only grief that haunted him.
He didn’t talk much during lunch, except to remark on how good the chicken salad she’d prepared was. Lara didn’t mind. It was a glorious day and the warmth from the sun had helped ease any tension she might have felt because she was sitting opposite the man who had mesmerised her when she was just sixteen. The truth was he still mesmerised her. She’d fantasised about Gabriel so many times over the years—had even entertained the foolish hope that one day he might come back into her life, see the woman she’d become, and be enthralled by her.
But, seeing him again now, she knew that was just a pipedream. He was even more out of Lara’s league than he had been all those years ago.
However, as they sat in the garden together she realised that the past association Gabriel had enjoyed with her and her family had definitely engendered an unspoken agreement between them that they could at least let their guards down enough around each other for a while and relax. They didn’t need to present some awkward or uneasy façade that would prevent honest communication.
Reaching for the bottle of wine that she’d opened and stood in an ice bucket on the table, she poured some crisp white Chardonnay into their glasses and, raising hers in a toast, smiled. ‘To old friends.’
A fleeting shadow passed across Gabriel’s brilliant blue irises. His broad shoulders visibly tensed. Then he, too, raised his glass.
‘To Sean, who once told me that the best bottle of wine was the one you shared with a trusted friend, whether it was vintage or a common or garden bottle of plonk.’
The expression on his sculpted, handsome face was indisputably wry, but it was tinged with a sadness and regret he couldn’t hide.
‘Your brother was far too generous. I wish I’d exhibited more of that quality towards him when I had the chance. But I was too set on carving my own path to properly consider him. I certainly wasn’t around during the times he might have needed an ally or someone to confide in. Some “trusted friend” I turned out to be.’
‘You’re too hard on yourself, Gabriel.’
Not for a second could Lara deny the impulse that suddenly arose in her to touch him. God knew it was a big risk for her to give in to it, but she ached to give him some comfort. It was hard seeing him so down on himself like this.... Sean would have hated it, too.
Gently, she laid her hand over his. He stared down at it as though hypnotised. Then he shook his head.
‘The fact is I’m not hard enough. I’m constantly creating strategies and contingency plans so that I don’t have to face myself and confront the truth about who I’ve become...a man I’m hardly proud of.’
‘But you’ve already told me what a success people think you are, Gabriel. You should be proud of what you’ve achieved.’
‘So you think I’ve made a success of my life, do you?’
The pain Lara saw reflected in his gaze made her draw in a helplessly tight breath.
‘What I think isn’t as important as how you feel, Gabriel. You must have worked hard to get where you are, and you did it without help from either family or friends. That shows the kind of strength and determination that most people would love to have.’
‘Does it?’
Shockingly, Gabriel seized her hand, as though he meant to make her his prisoner, and the intense, hungry glare he swept over her face made her heart thump hard.
‘You’re too damn generous for your own good, Lara. Let me put you straight about the kind of man I am, in case you’re harbouring the belief that I’m somehow better. I’m not. I don’t consider others. I’m a taker—not a giver, like you and your family. In the kind of world I inhabit the weak fall by the wayside and are quickly forgotten. I’ve had to learn to be tough. On the road to achieving what I want I’ve learned not to let anything or anyone stand in my way. If I come back into your life again I’m guaranteed to hurt you and make you rue the day you met me.’
Her mouth drying, Lara couldn’t hold back the hot press of tears that surged into her eyes. His words had been like knives and her need to self-protect immediately kicked in.
‘You’re talking as if I’m nurturing some kind of hope that we might get together. Don’t worry about that, Gabriel. I’m not.’
She sniffed and wrenched her arm free.
‘New York has changed you, Gabriel—and not for the better. You used to be quite friendly and amusing. But it sounds like the path that you’ve chosen has corrupted you instead of made you happy. That worries me. And, just so that you know, I’m not looking for a man to be in my life. And I assure you that if I was I’m afraid it wouldn’t be you.’
‘Is that right?’
In a flash Gabriel was on his feet and yanking her up towards him, moving his hands down to her slim waist to hold her fast and pulling her against the iron wall of his chest. There was no time for Lara to think or even to feel alarmed. But her heartbeat went wild when his hand cupped the back of her head and forcefully directed her face up towards his.
Then the world as she knew it disappeared as though it was nothing but a hazy dream. Her eyelids shut tight as he crushed her lips beneath his, his hot silken tongue mercilessly invading and plundering the satin interior of her mouth in a kiss that seemed to be driven by passionate hunger and fury combined.
The frightening demand she sensed left Lara reeli
ng. But it also stirred long-dormant feelings in her body, making them want to rise up and meet that furious hunger. Along with that shocking realisation there were other disturbing feelings and sensations that hit her. The foremost was how seductively delicious Gabriel tasted and how he exuded the most provocative scent—almost a primeval scent—that wasn’t just down to the expensive cologne he wore. And the sheer strength of the man’s hard, honed body against hers made her blood pound in her veins just as if he were some hungry lone wolf, intent on carrying her off to his lair to savour at his leisure.
But hers wasn’t the only heart that was hammering. And when Gabriel suddenly and without warning let her go, cursing vehemently beneath his breath, Lara stumbled. Her legs felt as weak as strands of damp linguine.
Retrieving her balance as quickly as she could, she stood on her father’s immaculately mown lawn and tentatively touched her fingertips to her lips. They were already slightly swollen and still throbbed from Gabriel’s savagely hungry kiss. The man himself had already distanced himself and stood shaking his dark head in what looked to be disgust. When his gaze lifted to meet hers she had never seen an expression more nakedly stark.
‘I’m sorry if I hurt you. Despite what I said, it was never my intention to do that,’ he intoned huskily. ‘But it’s better you know now what I’m really like than find out later. At least now you have the chance to shut the door on me and vow never to see me again.’
Wiping the back of her hand over her tear-moistened eyes, Lara unflinchingly met his tortured gaze. It was then that she made a silent vow not to abandon him as his mother and uncle had done. Her friends might not have understood her decision if they’d been privy to his little speech about being ‘a taker not a giver’, but then none of them had known the Gabriel of old, and nor did they know how it felt to set your eyes on a man and believe that he might—just might—be your destiny.
Despite her private feelings about that, Lara was still determined not to let Gabriel have the upper hand. Even if she couldn’t deny the powerful chemistry between them, she certainly wasn’t about to let him use her and then discard her as if he wouldn’t give her so much as a second thought. She didn’t want to be one of the ‘weak’ that fell by the wayside.
