Читать книгу A Very Fake Fiancée - Nancy Warren, Andrea Laurence - Страница 14

Six

A disorienting sense of déjà vu, an odd feeling of inevitability, gripped Gemma as Gabriel walked alongside her, as sleek and muscular as a big cat, easily keeping pace.

From the moment she had realized that the kiss had been a mistake, she had done her best to distance herself from him. The last thing she needed right now was a resurgence of the old crush, the old love, that had haunted her for so long, but the plain fact was that right now she needed his help.

The wind gusted off the dark expanse of sea that glittered beneath a half-moon, raising gooseflesh on her arms and intensifying the sense of reliving a past that was emotionally fraught with temptation and risk.

Setting her jaw, she tried not to shiver and wished she had thought to bring a wrap. Unfortunately, when she had left her room at the Atraeus Resort, her home for the past few days, she hadn’t been in any state to remember sensible details. She had been too stressed with the whole crazy idea that Zane was the answer to her problems.

Acutely aware of Gabriel next to her, his brooding glance touching on her profile, Gemma skimmed the parking lot and wondered which of the vehicles belonged to him.

She expected him to indicate one of the sedans that gleamed expensively under the lights, maybe a BMW or an Audi, but when he depressed a key and the lights of a muscular, low-slung Maserati flashed, the impression she had gained earlier was intensified. As ordered and high-powered as Gabriel’s occupation was, there was nothing either soft or conventional about him. Underneath the business suit, he was utterly male, with the sleek, hard muscle and seasoned toughness that was uncompromisingly alpha.

Even though she had known how he could be, how he had been six years ago, the car put Gabriel firmly in context. She had gotten used to viewing him as belonging in the past, no longer connected with either her or Sanchia’s life.

Now, suddenly, that convenient fantasy had evaporated. Gabriel was here, now, larger than life and twice as potent.

She drew in a breath at a sudden thought. And like it or not, according to the press story that would probably be published in the next few days, he was now part of her life.

Gabriel opened the passenger-side door and waited for her to climb into the dimly glowing interior. Forced to throw caution to the wind, at least until she was safely back in her hotel room, Gemma settled into an ultralow seat that smelled expensively of leather and felt like a warm, very expensive cloud.

Chilled from the breeze and inescapably on edge, she quickly fastened her seat belt before Gabriel could offer to do it for her.

She shoved the light-colored bag, which seemed to glow in the dark, against her door, as far from Gabriel’s view as she could get it. When she got back to her room, she intended to throw the entire thing away, bag, contents and all. It would take her a long time to forget the embarrassment and humiliation of the evening; the last thing she needed was reminders.

Gabriel slid into the driver’s seat, making the interior of the Maserati seem even smaller. Seconds later, they were accelerating past the floodlit front of the Castello with its soaring stone facade and circular drive and down a narrow winding road.

Twin stone posts glided past as Gabriel turned onto the coast road and headed into the township of Medinos. Cupped in a gently curving bay, backed by arid, ridged hills, Medinos glittered softly. Lights from rows of streetlamps that resembled glowing pearls and ultramodern high-rises splashed out across the water, illuminating the graceful lines of yachts.

Gabriel braked for a set of lights. “I take it you’re staying at the resort.”

His deep, cool voice made her start. “For the meantime. I fly back to New Zealand in a couple of days.”

Although she intended to change her ticket and leave on the earliest flight she could get. Tomorrow, if possible.

After the episode with Zane, and the next media scandal looming, she needed to get home to Sanchia as soon as she could.

Her fingers clenched together in her lap at the way all of her plans had flown to pieces. The thought that the child welfare people could try to take Sanchia permanently filled her with desperate fear. Until she got home, and had Sanchia back in her arms, she wouldn’t be able to relax.

“I heard you’ve quit the job with the Atraeus Group.”

“That’s right.” Warily, she juggled how much to tell him. “I need to be closer to my family. And I need a more settled environment for Sanch—for my child.”

She felt rather than saw his gaze on her. “I take it your mother is caring for—the child?”

She didn’t miss his slight hesitation, and, out of the blue, wrenching guilt jabbed at her. The moment was disorienting. Sanchia was his, and he didn’t even know he had a daughter.

When she had been nursing her hurt and bearing the pregnancy on her own she had managed to convince herself that it was for the best, but now, in Gabriel’s presence, the full weight of the deception settled in. The very least she could do was to give him her name. “Mom was looking after Sanchia, until she had a heart attack. One of my sisters has her at the moment.”

“And that’s why you’ve left your job.”

Surprise at his knowledge made her stiffen. The wariness that she’d felt back at the Castello returned full force. “That’s right. I was going to bring Sanchia out to Medinos, but now a lot of things have changed and I...need to go home.”

Gabriel smoothly overtook a slower vehicle. “And your mother, is she okay?”

The concern in his voice reminded her that as much as she had tried to ignore Gabriel’s existence, that didn’t alter the fact that back in Dolphin Bay they were practically neighbors. “Mom’s recovering. It wasn’t a serious attack, more a warning. She just has to take things easy for a while.”

“If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

“Thank you for the offer. Luckily Mom has medical insurance, so she’s had no problem with meeting costs.”

The conversation reminded her that Gabriel had lost his father suddenly. The car accident had happened shortly after the night they had spent together. She could still remember anxiously scanning the newspapers for news of him and his family, and checking the internet to see what details she could pick up.

With relief Gemma saw the resort’s neon sign. Gabriel pulled into the lobby parking lot just as a tall, familiar figure strode out of the front entrance.

Gemma’s heart almost stopped in her chest. Zane.

He was too intent on his own agenda to notice them as he climbed into the Ferrari parked at the curb and shot away. Gemma skimmed the lighted hotel entrance looking for press. She couldn’t see any, but she wasn’t taking any chances. If Zane was here, the media were bound to be, also. The last thing she wanted to do now was walk into the lobby and get snapped.

She directed Gabriel around to the parking lot at the rear of the staff accommodation. As he slotted the Maserati into a space, Gemma’s stomach tensed as the reporter who had followed her at the Castello stepped out of a rental car, camera in hand. He was accompanied by a second reporter, who was holding a video camera.

Gabriel frowned. “It’s getting a little crowded around here. What do you want to do?”

She absolutely did not want to run into the media again, tonight. “Leave.”

Zane and reporters was a combination she couldn’t afford, which meant she couldn’t stay at the Atraeus Resort tonight.

She could try requesting security, which she had needed on occasion in her job as Zane’s PA. But after what had happened at the Castello and the fact that she had officially resigned, she had to consider the possibility that Zane had advised his people that as she was no longer on the payroll, her status was as a guest only.

Before she could suggest another hotel, Gabriel reversed and cruised across the parking lot. The cameraman turned at the low throaty growl of the Maserati, but by the time he had lifted the camera and aimed it in their direction, Gabriel had turned out onto the main highway.

Seconds later they were in the middle of town, with its milling tourists, street cafés and tavernas. Idling now, to avoid the occasional jaywalking pedestrian, Gabriel cruised along the waterfront. “Do you have a place you could stay? Any friends on Medinos?”

Still unnerved by the sighting of both Zane and the press crew that seemed to be stalking her, Gemma kept her gaze on the ranks of gleaming cars parked along the street, the brightly dressed tourists mingling with the much more conventional Medinians. “No. When I’ve stayed in Medinos, I’ve always been working. I’ve spent most of my time either at the airport or the resort.”

And any spare time she had spent either studying, talking with Sanchia via the internet or troubleshooting endless problems with nannies.

Gabriel took a turn into a quieter section of town, dotted with villas. “I have a beachside villa with a security gate. If you want to stay the night you’re welcome.”

Gemma risked a glance at Gabriel’s profile. With his longer hair and the faint shadow of stubble on his jaw, he looked far more broodingly dangerous and exotically Medinian than she remembered.

The thought of spending further time with him in a private setting with no one but perhaps an odd servant around tightened the tension humming through her. Although with the Ambrosi Pearls launch it was entirely possible there would be other family members staying. “I was thinking a small pensionato.”

Gabriel pulled over against the curb and stopped. “Unless you’ve prebooked one, you might have trouble getting a room. It’s the height of the tourist season, plus there are a lot of press and extra people on the island for the Ambrosi Pearls launch.”

He lifted a brow. “And unless you’ve got some extra clothing, even if you find a room, you could still have a problem with that scenario.”

Gemma’s stomach sank. She had temporarily forgotten that Medinos was a place that hadn’t quite shaken off its medieval traditions, particularly with regard to women. Caught halfway between the east and west, no bikinis, and no cleavage or overtly sensual clothing were allowed in public areas. Unless in a private setting, which the Castello had been, women were expected to dress modestly.

Until she could either get into her room at the resort, or go shopping, all she had to wear was what she had on. No respectable pensionato—and that was the only kind on Medinos—would rent her a room while she was wearing a black lace dress and high heels, and with no luggage.

Although her bag, despite holding champagne and a negligee, could pass for luggage.

Gabriel extracted his phone from his pocket. “If you want I can ring a couple of places.”

“Okay.”

Fifteen minutes and ten calls later, Gabriel set the phone down. “The offer of a bed at my place is still good.”

Gemma stared out of the Maserati’s window and tried not to feel a forbidden jolt of excitement that she would be extending her time with Gabriel. “All I need is a bed for a few hours.”

It was the lesser of two evils.

Just one night. How dangerous could that be?