by Maya Blake
And now the woman who’d taken up more of his thoughts than he was even marginally happy with was trying to pretend he didn’t exist.
The crew were beginning to pack up. Ethan spotted him and waved, but Gael’s cool nod as he approached Goldie thankfully kept the other man away.
He reached her. Stared down at her. Her nostrils quivered slightly as she stared boldly up at him. The African sun had lent her skin an even more vibrant tone, which made her stunning violet eyes more vivid and alluring. Recalling how silky her skin was, how warm and enthralling it had felt to touch her, he was glad his hands were deep in his pockets. His senses were poised on the edge as it was. He didn’t want to add touching where it wasn’t wanted to his list of things to deal with. But not touching didn’t mean he couldn’t look his fill.
His gaze raked the khaki-coloured dress she wore with a tightly cinched belt that emphasised her small waist, then her bare legs and the ankle boots adorning her feet. She looked capable and utilitarian—as her part demanded. But with the shoot over she’d let her hair loose, and dark gold corkscrew curls bounced over her shoulders. Again the memory of having his fist locked in those waves tore through him, powerful and fierce. He clenched his gut against the sensation.
‘It’s good to see you, Goldie.’
‘Is it?’ She stopped, pursed her lips and shook her head. ‘No. Sorry—I promised myself the next time I saw you I’d make an extra effort to be civil, so here goes.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Thank you for sorting out the sober companion for my mother. You didn’t have to, but I really appreciate you doing that...so, thanks.’
He allowed the smile that tugged at his lips—the smile that had been nearly non-existent these last few weeks—to filter through. ‘You’re welcome. I wanted to give you peace of mind. I trust everything’s going well in that department?’
She nodded, her eyes rising from where they had settled on his chest to meet his. She even deigned to offer a tiny smile. ‘Yes, they’re getting on like a house on fire, or so I’m told.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ He didn’t want to begrudge her the peace of mind that was sorely lacking in his own life.
Her eyes searched his. Gael wasn’t sure what she found, but her face lost a little of its tightness. He exhaled, realised he was breathing a little easier, and then turned when he sensed they were no longer alone.
Ethan approached on his crutches. ‘The crew are about to head out, and the cast and I are heading for the airstrip. Goldie, do you want to join us? Or...?’ he paused, his eyebrows lifted.
Gael shook his head. ‘There’s no need. I have my plane here. We can all fly back to Durban on my jet.’ He nodded to Ethan’s plaster cast. ‘I’m sure you’ll be much more comfortable on my plane than on the turboprop.’
Ethan laughed. ‘Now, there’s an offer I’m not about to refuse. We’ll meet you at the plane?’
Gael nodded. Waited until his director hobbled off before he turned to find Goldie regarding him with a steady look.
‘Without inciting an argument, can I ask why you’re here?’ she asked.
He shrugged. ‘My partners wanted an update. So did I. And Durban is great at this time of year, I’m told.’
‘So you’re here on a working vacation?’ she probed.
The inkling that he wasn’t wanted deepened a pang he didn’t want to acknowledge. About to tell her he hadn’t taken a vacation in a decade and wasn’t about to take one now, Gael paused. ‘Why not? I’ve been told I’m “grumpy and insufferable” lately. So maybe a timeout is just what I need.’
That minuscule smile reappeared. ‘Did whoever dared to make that observation get away with their lives?’ she teased, and fell into step beside him as he headed for the last remaining vehicle left in the deserted dirt car park of the game reserve.
‘Sadly I had to rule out homicide. Doing away with my future sister-in-law before she becomes my brother’s wife—or even at any time after that—will not end well for me. My only choice was to remove my grumpiness from her presence.’
Her smile widened, turned into a laugh.
Something twitched in Gael’s chest at the sound—a feeling of wanting to join in, to revel in her warm amusement at his own expense.
Her cute nose wrinkled when he stopped beside the truck and stared at him. ‘So you’re here to foist your grumpiness on us instead?’
He opened the door and saw her into the passenger seat. Shutting the door, he leaned an elbow on the open window. ‘I’m in the land of cheetahs, fireflies and stunning sunsets, amongst a thousand other pleasures. I’m certain I’ll find a useful outlet for my mood,’ he murmured.
The sparkle in her eyes didn’t dim, but her amusement altered as a different sensation arced between them. Gael recognised it. Waited for her to recognise it too. He didn’t exactly plan on doing anything about it—she’d made her feelings abundantly clear that day in his conference room—but the moment felt too visceral to dismiss. So he stood there, with her breathtaking face and body mere inches away, and watched her eyes darken as sexual awareness zapped the air between them.
Abruptly, she averted her gaze from his. ‘Can we go, please?’
‘Of course,’ he murmured.
Despite his intimation otherwise, he was here solely on business. Although in hindsight he accepted that he might have handled their morning-after differently, he stood by his decision to keep his hands off Goldie Beckett.
For one thing, she was now effectively his employee—and mixing business with pleasure never boded well in the long run. His brother and Elise might have proved the exception to the rule, but statistics weren’t in favour of such occurrences ending well.
For another, he hadn’t forgotten what he’d witnessed in that auditorium at Othello. Her virginity might have proved that she hadn’t gone through with the director’s proposal, but Gael had seen her allow the director’s touch. Had seen her take the keycard, watched her consider the proposal. As much as he wanted to explain that away, he couldn’t.
Especially as since then Goldie had as much as admitted that her career was her top priority. That she would do anything to further it. Who knows what would have happened had Gael not come along? Hell, her immediate reaction to being drunk for the first time in her life had been to enquire whether her actions had affected the opportunity he’d been offering her.
On some level Gael admired her dedication, and it was undeniable that she had the talent to back the ambition. But the thought of her doing whatever it took left a bitter taste in his mouth, reminding him too much of the issues he was dealing with when it came to his mother. Rightly or wrongly, he couldn’t think of one without thinking of the other. They both struck a little too close to home and, despite her attempting to explain herself to the contrary, he hadn’t been able to erase Goldie’s last performance with that director in the auditorium from his mind.
As a tool for enabling him to keep his hands off her it was effective, he mused as he slid behind the wheel and turned on the ignition.
The ride to the private airstrip where his plane was parked was conducted in silence, and took less than ten minutes.
On the plane, he let Goldie wander off to take a seat next to Ethan. As much as it struck an unpleasant chord within Gael, he ignored the feeling and struck up a conversation with the actor playing Alfonso, who was glad to connect with a fellow Spaniard, even though Gael only half paid attention to their discourse.
His gaze was drawn inexorably to the woman chatting in low tones to Ethan. Her occasional husky laugh bounced across the space between them and sizzled along Gael’s nerve-endings.
He was almost relieved when the plane landed in Durban forty minutes later. This time an appointed driver chauffeured them to Umhlanga and the Oyster Box Hotel, where the cast and crew were staying. After agreeing to have a proper meeting with Ethan the next morni
ng, he trailed after the departing Goldie. She was standing in front of the private lift that served his suite when he joined her.
Her eyes landed on him and widened. ‘You’re staying in the presidential suite too?’
‘According to the bookings manager it’s the only suite with a spare bedroom not already taken up by the cast and crew. I hope you don’t mind sharing?’
A frown clenched her forehead for a few seconds, before a resolute look slid across her face. ‘Of course not. She mentioned that the other room might be used by other people. I just didn’t think...’
‘That I would be your first room-mate?’ he finished.
She eyed him a touch warily as he stepped into the lift beside her. ‘Yes. But it’s not a problem. The bedrooms are on different floors, so hopefully I won’t disturb you too much.’
Her smile was less natural than it had been on their ride back from the game reserve. Gael experienced another bite of regret.
‘I will let you know if I’m planning any wild parties.’
This conversation was ridiculous. He wanted her at ease, but he was aware that he himself wasn’t at ease. So he let silence rule for the remainder of the short lift journey and their walk to the entrance into the suite.
‘Have dinner with me,’ he invited.
The offer had been delivered without much forethought when she’d started to beat a hasty retreat towards the stairs that led to the suite upstairs.
She paused. Her sumptuous lips parted. ‘I don’t think...’
‘In the interest of fresh starts and civil leaf-turning, I also wish to make an attempt. You haven’t eaten yet, have you?’
Gael wasn’t bothered by the knowledge that he was pushing. He was known for remaining civil with the women he’d had liaisons with—Heidi being the only exception—so why not Goldie?
Slowly, she shook her head. ‘No, I haven’t.’
He nodded, a welling of satisfaction moving through him. ‘Do you want to eat out or in?’
‘I had planned on taking a shower, then ordering in...’
He crossed to the dining room and returned with a lavish menu, which he held out to her. ‘Decide what you want and I’ll have it delivered here for us by the time you’re done with your shower.’
He saw a look of refusal cross her face before whatever resolution she was striving to achieve forced a nod from her.
‘Okay.’ She took the menu and scanned it quickly. ‘I’ll have the lobster bisque to start, the chicken involtini and the lemon cheesecake, please.’
He took the menu from her with a wry smile. ‘Nothing local for you? I can recommend something if you prefer?’
She grimaced. ‘I tried a selection of dishes a couple of nights ago. They were heavenly, but sadly they didn’t agree with me.’ She rubbed a hand across her midriff. ‘Turns out my constitution isn’t as adventurous as my spirit.’
Gael frowned, his gaze following her hand. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes, I’m fine now,’ she replied. ‘But I think I’ll stick to food that I know for now. I’ll see you in half an hour?’
He nodded, watched her shapely legs stride up the stairs and then resolutely turned away. They were being civil, sharing a suite like reasonable room-mates—not two people who’d shared a sizzling, passionate few hours in bed a few short weeks ago.
So he wouldn’t imagine her undressing, stepping into the shower, rubbing shower gel all over her incredibly responsive body...
A low curse flamed from his lips. The libido that hadn’t so much as twitched around any other woman he’d come into contact with since he’d slept with Goldie was now threatening to rage out of control.
He crossed to the phone and relayed their dinner order. Then he went into his own room and showered.
She was back downstairs when he emerged, wearing a flowing boubou gown in a distinct African print, with her hair brushed loose and wavy. The bold oranges and reds complemented her dark colouring, making her look even more striking.
His gaze travelled from her exquisite face and down her body. When she caught his eyes on her bare feet, she grimaced and wrinkled her toes.
‘I hope you don’t mind? My feet have been in hot and sweaty boots all day. I can’t bear the thought of confining them again.’
For some absurd reason he couldn’t pull his attention from her peach-painted toenails, nor stop himself from stepping closer to breathe in the unique scent he was sure didn’t come out of a tube of luxury product. Goldie’s scent was one he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind.
‘Of course not,’ he replied, his voice curiously gruff.
Her smile dragged his eyes up. Gael found himself absorbing it, wanting to bask in it. To perpetuate it long into the night.
Dios, what was wrong with him?
‘Would you like a drink?’ he asked abruptly.
Her smile dimmed.
Do better. He needed to do better. As much as he enjoyed sparring with an argumentative Goldie, he admitted he liked this ‘new leaf’ version better. She still had the fire he was drawn to, but in this place and time he could almost forget that there was a facet of her character he quietly despised. It was a naked ambition she was willing to do just about anything to achieve, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to abide it into the future.
The future? What future?
He had no plans of reinitiating or prolonging anything.
He’d built an empire.
He’d dated beautiful women.
And he’d vowed never to marry any of them because, inevitably, each and every one of them showed their true gold-digging and opportunistic characters eventually.
On top of that he had known from an early age that he would never produce a child who might feel a trace of the sting of rejection he’d suffered.
Nothing would change that particular vow. Not even Alejandro’s engagement and the subtle hints about revisiting old ground that he kept tossing Gael’s way. That, most of all, was a grenade he intended to keep tossing back into his brother’s lap.
‘An apple spritzer?’ he tried again, careful to keep his voice even.
Her nod was a touch wary. ‘Yes, thank you.’
Although there was a drinks console nearby, Gael crossed the room to the well-stocked bar, to give himself—and her—time to adjust, regroup.
He heard her pad over to the large rectangular windows that opened onto the wide patio and the stunning view of the Indian Ocean beyond. After fixing her drink he poured a glass of burgundy for himself and joined her outside, where the table had been laid by the private butler.
They sipped their drinks and watched the rolling waves hit the shore on the beach down below for a few minutes before their food arrived.
Halfway through their first course she raised her gaze from her plate. ‘How long are you planning to stay?’ she asked in an even voice, but he detected the thin nerves behind it.
‘Until I can no longer avoid my duties as my brother’s best man.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Your brother’s getting married that soon?’
‘In ten days,’ he answered, aware that the tension he’d hoped to dispel was still very much present.
‘Why is it that he’s getting married but you’re the one who has the jitters?’ she asked, and her acuity was a touch disturbing.
‘I wish him well, of course, but the inescapable truth is that a lifelong commitment like marriage more often than not fails eventually.’
She frowned. ‘You think your brother’s marriage is going to fail?’
He shrugged. ‘We don’t come from admirable stock when it comes to the sanctity of marriage. He’s...brave to want to give it a try, nevertheless.’
Troubled violet eyes connected with his. ‘I... What you said back in New York about being—’<
br />
‘A bastard?’ His jaw clenched. He thought about evading the suddenly abrading question, thought about how they’d ended up here in the first place. ‘I’m the product of an affair my mother had with Alejandro’s still married father.’
Her mouth dropped open. ‘Oh.’
He took a large sip of wine. ‘Sí. Oh.’
She shook her head. ‘I didn’t mean oh like that. I mean, I’m the last person who should be shocked...’ She stopped and frowned. ‘If Alejandro’s asked you to be his best man, then your relationship with him must be good—so your past circumstances can’t matter that much to him?’
Gael recalled their last fraught meeting. Recognised that this time all the tension had been his alone. Although Alejandro had resisted at first, lately he’d been much more open—most likely thanks to the influence of his fiancée, who was open-hearted and open-armed about embracing new family, seeing as her own family situation was lacking.
‘The relationship isn’t without its challenges, but it’s...progressive.’
‘So it’s progressive now, but you think that relationship will fail too?’ she pressed.
He frowned. ‘There are always adverse factors at play.’
‘And you intend to take those adverse factors lying down, just like you do with your businesses?’ she asked lightly as she cut into a piece of chicken.
‘I have never failed at a business venture,’ he quipped.
‘So why are you prepared to write off a sound relationship and watch it fail without putting in as much effort as you would into a business venture?’ she parried.
His smile felt as cynical as his soul. ‘Because business is conducted and thrives without the single detrimental component that damns us all.’
‘And what’s that?’
‘Useless emotion.’
Her fork stilled and her eyes widened. ‘You think emotions are useless?’
‘They’re more harmful than useless. They cloud judgement and ruin lives.’
