The Notorious Gabriel DiazRuthless Tycoon, Inexperienced Mistress

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The Notorious Gabriel DiazRuthless Tycoon, Inexperienced Mistress Page 16

by Cathy Williams


  ‘Wow! It’s big, isn’t it?’ She strolled outside, hugging herself against the cold. Fairy lights illuminated a perfectly landscaped garden, complete with a bench under a weeping willow.

  ‘If this so-called engagement was going to continue, I figured it would be a good idea to have somewhere you could bring the mutt….’

  Lucy spun round to look at him. ‘Really?’

  ‘Made sense,’ Gabriel told her with a shrug. ‘My house wouldn’t work, and you made the point on more than one occasion that you didn’t like leaving Freddy behind….’

  ‘So are you saying that you specifically picked this place out with me in mind?’

  In a heartbeat Gabriel realised that there was no room for prevarication, and that his usual automatic cool withdrawal from any question designed to pin him down wasn’t going to work. He was a man who could handle any competition in the business world, who could face down anybody rash enough to think that they could take him on, but right now he was powerless against the earnest enquiry in those big green eyes. The woman had managed to worm her way through the dense walls of his self-imposed fortress, changing all the rules.

  ‘Something like that, I suppose,’ he conceded grudgingly. ‘Of course places like these can be rented in a second….’ he was compelled to point out. ‘Have a look around the rest of the house. Upstairs. Your parents are in one of the guest rooms.’

  ‘I can’t believe they never mentioned a word of this to me…. What did they do last night? Did they talk to you about…about…?’

  ‘No, they didn’t,’ Gabriel said shortly. ‘I wasn’t about to engage in a long conversation in your absence. Besides, I’d already gathered that I’d been painted into a corner. Problem was, I didn’t know what the corner was supposed to look like. There seemed no point fabricating stories about trips to China if I was supposed to be setting sail for the New World.’

  Lucy nodded and followed him back into the house. She was still reeling from the thought that he’d had personal input into the property—that he had bought it with her in mind. Did that indicate that perhaps he actually wanted their relationship to develop? He hadn’t touched her, or even come close to touching her recently, but then again he hadn’t run screaming into the distance either…. Surely for a commitment-phobe like Gabriel an engagement foisted upon him would have been the final straw, however great the sex between them was, but he had stuck around. What did that mean?

  She opened doors to three bedrooms—one with angled old timber beams—and a generous-sized bathroom, before finally walking into the master bedroom, where she stopped dead at the bed of her dreams. A king-sized four-poster, the last word in romantic luxury. Eyes shining, Lucy spun round to look at Gabriel.

  ‘You chose this especially for me?’ she breathed in wonder. Hope pushed through the layers of disappointment.

  ‘It’s not a big deal. You once said you liked four-poster beds. In fact, more than once. Several hundred times.’

  ‘So what does this mean?’ she demanded as she looked at him searchingly.

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘If you got this…for me…for us…’

  ‘It’s a four-poster bed, Lucy. Not a marriage proposal.’

  Hope was extinguished as rapidly as it had taken root. What on earth had she been thinking? That a wildly extravagant show of thoughtfulness indicated a deliberate act of commitment? Had she lost her senses? Beds were about sex. He didn’t want to see where they were going! He hadn’t become a convert to the possibility of long-lasting relationships that led to the altar! He had stuck around, keeping a careful distance, because he still wanted her and his intention was to get her back into bed.

  ‘A four-poster bed for me?’

  ‘A four-poster bed for us.’ Already he was picturing her in it, her long blond hair splayed out around her, her small, perfect breasts pouting up at him, her slender body waiting for his attention. She was made for a four-poster bed. ‘I chose it myself.’

  ‘You haven’t come near me for weeks….’ Lucy was cold inside and getting colder by the second.

  ‘You wanted me to back off,’ Gabriel said softly. ‘I did.’

  ‘Did you think that I wouldn’t be able to last? That I would crack?’ She thought how often she had come close to doing just that and thanked her lucky stars that she hadn’t. ‘And, when I didn’t, did you think that you could tempt me back into bed by buying this house and furnishing it with a great big four-poster bed? Just the kind of bed you knew I would like?’

  Gabriel frowned. ‘I’ve never had this much personal input into anything I’ve bought for a woman.’

  ‘And you don’t get any brownie points for doing it this time!’ Lucy shouted. ‘I’m not going to be your mistress until you get sick of me just because you bought a house and a four-poster bed and chose it all yourself!’

  ‘Since when is it a crime to do something I think you’d like!’ Frustrated, Gabriel raked his fingers through his hair. ‘You’ve kept me at arm’s length, and I’ve respected that. But keeping each other at arm’s length is something neither of us wants. So you want to start hunting down your soulmate. Specifically where do you intend to pin him down? And why be a martyr in the meanwhile? Okay, so the whole phoney engagement thing adds a complicated dimension, but there’s still chemistry between us. You can’t deny it. Why don’t you accept my gesture for what it is and enjoy it?’

  ‘It’s not what I want!’ She could have flung something at him. One of the cushions on the bed. He wasn’t a man for cushions! How had he dared to think that he could entice her back between the sheets by throwing a couple on a bed? ‘As soon as Mum and Dad get back I’m going to tell them that it’s over between us. Tomorrow morning we’re going to leave first thing, and I never, ever want to see you again!’

  CHAPTER TEN

  IT WAS A MONTH before Lucy was forced to admit to herself that her mantra of never wanting to set eyes on Gabriel again was a sham.

  True to her word, she had left with her parents early the following morning after her stormy argument with him. The house had been empty. Gabriel had left even before her parents had returned from their theatre expedition and he had failed to reappear.

  As soon as they had returned to Somerset she had sat her parents down and haltingly told them the truth. What had started as a fling had been turned into an engagement because she hadn’t wanted to stress them out or, if truth be told, face their disappointment. They had old-fashioned beliefs and she had never given them cause to question that she didn’t share those beliefs. Had she been more of a rebel, she thought to herself, she might have had that fling without a conscience—but that was a passing thought that didn’t have the substance to take root. The truth was that she would still have fallen in love with him, despite their inauspicious beginnings, and she would still have wanted more than he could ever give her.

  Her parents had listened and accepted her explanation without passing judgement. On the surface things had returned to normality. Her routine was back in place. Things were busy at the garden centre. Christmas was just around the corner. There should have been little time to dwell on the emptiness that engulfed her, stifling her usual upbeat nature like creeping poisonous ivy.

  Unfortunately, questions had begun to push themselves to the surface, and it didn’t seem to matter how hard she tried to shove them back down, they still kept rising up until she could barely function.

  He might not have had the vocabulary to tell her that he wanted a proper relationship with her, but hadn’t he, effectively, bought her a house? Who did something like that if he was completely detached? And he had chosen everything inside it. Or at least some of the things inside it. Definitely the bed. The four-poster bed he had known she would adore. He had made sure that the house had a garden—somewhere for Freddy. If actions spoke louder than words, then hadn’t he been trying to tell her something?

  She hated herself for not being strong enough to make the right decision and stick t
o it. Or to make any decision and stick to it! She resented the fact that she just couldn’t help trying to analyse a way out of the paralysis that had overtaken her. She couldn’t sleep at night. Sometimes, during the day, she found herself drifting off into all sorts of imaginary scenarios as she tried to wrestle with the unwanted questions that kept bobbing up to the surface.

  She decided that she wouldn’t tell anyone when she finally made up her mind to go to London and see him. She could barely credit to herself that she was going to do it, never mind broadcast it! And she certainly wouldn’t breathe a word to her parents. Things still felt a little weird with them, even though his name never passed their lips. She had the feeling that they were concerned for her, and their concern lay between them like a big black cloud. She had a sneaking suspicion that the smile she always made sure to wear wasn’t fooling them.

  She left one of her friends to look after Freddy, and it was a freezing, blustery Saturday afternoon when she boarded the familiar train to London.

  She hadn’t thought through what she would say to Gabriel. She didn’t even know whether he would be in or not. But she didn’t want to lose the element of surprise by getting in touch with him. She was firmly convinced that he wouldn’t want to have anything to do with her, but she couldn’t spend the rest of her life with nagging doubts as to whether she had made the right decision or not.

  If she showed up and he chucked her out, then at least she could retreat as the wounded party and have some sort of closure.

  Her heart was beating like a jackhammer when, hours later, she was standing in front of his house. It was a little after six-thirty and already so dark that the street lights were on.

  She pressed the doorbell before she could talk herself out of it. She had passed the train ride telling herself that this was a win-win situation. Either he would hear her out, and then they could do what she knew she wanted, which was simply to enjoy each other, no questions asked, or else he would slam the door in her face, in which case, she would at least have tried.

  She couldn’t recall why she had been so sanctimonious. It just felt important to see him.

  She was so busy trying to predict his reaction should he be in, and should that front door open, that she was temporarily caught unawares when the door was indeed opened and he was standing in front of her.

  Her mouth went dry. Her fevered thoughts flew out of her head. She found that she was clutching her bag in a vice-like grip. How could she have forgotten just how beautiful he was? The few pictures she had taken of him on her phone, which she had guiltily looked at on a daily basis, didn’t begin to scrape the surface of his compelling good looks.

  ‘I…I guess you’re surprised to see me….’ Lucy croaked in a rush. She was riveted by the striking lines of his face, and only belatedly noticed that he was dressed to go out. Dark grey tailored trousers emphasised his long, muscular legs, and he wore a grey-and-white pinstriped shirt, one sleeve rolled to the elbow, the other in the process of being rolled down.

  ‘I’m—I’m sorry,’ she stammered, beetroot-red. ‘You’re going out…’

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

  He towered over her and she instinctively took a small step back. It had been a terrible mistake making this trip. She didn’t know what she had been thinking. Her thoughts were all over the place when she heard a woman’s voice calling from behind him—and then the owner of the voice sashayed into view.

  In all the scenarios that had flashed through her head during the weeks since she had walked out of that house she had carelessly and conveniently chosen to ignore the most obvious one. That he had simply forgotten about her and moved on. She was starkly reminded of that now as a sultry brunette, clad in a skintight red dress that clung to every voluptuous curve, moved to stand next to him.

  ‘Gabriel, darling, who on earth is this?’

  Dark, heavily made-up eyes swept contemptuously over her and Lucy wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

  ‘No one,’ she whispered in a desperate little voice. ‘I’m no one…. I think I may have come…to the wrong house. In fact…’ She moved to turn away and felt a hand descend on her arm.

  ‘Not so fast,’ Gabriel growled, while next to him the brunette released an exasperated string of protests.

  ‘Whoever the hell you are,’ she said, resting a hand possessively on Gabriel’s arm so that the three of them were connected through him in a oddly staged tableau, ‘we’re on our way to the opera! Gabriel, darling, can’t this wait?’

  Lucy raised reluctant eyes to the brunette, who was now pouting at him. She felt faint when she tried to think about what Gabriel would say should she come between him and his hot date. Did he feel that he had no choice but to invite her in because she had come such a long way to see him?

  ‘I’ll go….’ she volunteered feebly. ‘Actually, I was just passing through….’

  ‘Isabella,’ Gabriel said softly, without taking his eyes off Lucy’s flushed face, ‘time for you to leave.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘Apologies. My driver will deliver you back to your place. He’s already outside.’

  ‘We have tickets for the opera!’

  ‘Feel free to use them. And don’t forget your coat on your way out.’

  Lucy looked longingly at the front door as it shut behind the brunette, and then her eyes slid to the floor. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve ruined your evening. I didn’t think…’ She reluctantly looked up and nervously took in his shuttered expression. ‘You had a date….’

  ‘You haven’t said why you’ve shown up here.’ He spun around, heading for the kitchen and rolling his sleeve back up as he did so.

  Lucy traipsed behind him. This couldn’t have been a worse outcome. When he offered her a drink she accepted with alacrity, and sat at one of the bar stools by the granite-topped kitchen counter.

  ‘Was that your girlfriend?’ she heard herself ask.

  ‘Not relevant.’ He circled her expressionlessly, forcing her into the awkward position of having to swivel round on the stool until she was looking at him where he sat on one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

  ‘It is relevant,’ Lucy whispered tightly.

  ‘Because…?’

  ‘Because…’ She took a deep breath and stared down into her glass of wine. ‘Because I came here to tell you that I’m sorry… I made a mistake… I’ve… I’ve missed you…’ She drained her glass and braced her shoulders. ‘There. I’ve said it. Now I’m going to leave and you can get on with the rest of your evening.’

  ‘Isabella has been dispatched,’ Gabriel drawled. ‘Believe it or not, you have now become the rest of my evening. So you made a mistake…so you’ve missed me… Where is this heading? I’m curious.’

  ‘No, you’re not,’ Lucy breathed on an indrawn breath, ‘you’re getting a kick out of this!’

  She made to move past him but again he reached for her, this time pulling her back hard against him so that she half stumbled into his solid frame. She rested her free hand against his chest and could feel the rapid beating of his heart. Her mouth parted. She wanted him so badly that it physically hurt, but there was no way she would put herself forward as competition with the woman who had clearly already stepped into her shoes. She turned away, but he tilted her chin towards him so that once again their eyes were locked.

  ‘You’ve moved on.’ She heard the forlorn note in her voice and didn’t care. Her eyes were drawn to the beating pulse in his neck. ‘She’s very attractive. I’m glad for you.’

  ‘Are you? Even though you came back here to seduce me into bed with you? And there’s no point denying it. I can feel it.’

  ‘I’d never seduce anybody who has a girlfriend!’ Her absence of any denial of his assumption was answer enough to his question, but she didn’t care about that either. She was hurting everywhere inside. She could only think that once she got back on that train matters would finally be sorted.

  ‘Is
abella isn’t a girlfriend,’ Gabriel told her abruptly, and just as abruptly released her to pour himself another drink. Two in quick succession. Never had he needed them more.

  ‘But you were on a date…’

  ‘The third in three weeks.’

  ‘Thank you for that, Gabriel.’ This time she met his eyes without flinching. ‘That’s just what I needed to hear. That I was so forgettable.’

  ‘Forgettable? No. Never that.’

  ‘I should leave.’

  ‘You were going to seduce me. Would you feel free to put that into action if I told you that the three women I dated, I dated once, and I wasn’t tempted into bed by any of them?’

  ‘Is that true?’

  ‘What happened to those principles of yours? What happened to Mr Right lurking round the corner?’

  ‘I don’t care if you don’t want a relationship with me.’ Lucy had nothing to lose by finally being honest. After all the little deceptions along the way it was a cleansing feeling. ‘I don’t care if we have some fun for a day or a week or a month. There’s no longer any cloud of a phoney engagement. I guess, yes, I came here to offer you the no-strings situation you wanted….’

  ‘I think,’ Gabriel held her eyes with his, ‘it may be a little too late for that.’

  ‘So you did sleep with one of those women…you are involved with someone else….’ Ice-cold resignation pooled inside her and she couldn’t get past it to convince herself that at least they were well and truly finished.

  ‘I told you,’ Gabriel said huskily, ‘I didn’t. If you must know, I couldn’t…’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘A kitchen isn’t the place for this type of conversation.’ He drained his glass and debated whether to go for the kill and have a third, but dumped the idea to make his way to the sitting area. Lucy followed, bewildered.

  ‘So?’ she asked.

  ‘I need you to sit by me.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I don’t feel comfortable shouting halfway across the room that my libido disappeared the day you walked out of my life.’

 

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