Читать книгу A Very Fake Fiancée: The Fiancée Charade / My Fake Fiancée / A Very Exclusive Engagement - Nancy Warren, Andrea Laurence - Страница 12

Five

Another flash from the reporter’s camera lit up the dim corridor, making her stomach hollow out. Although not as much as the knowledge that Gabriel must have read the various tabloid stories and assumed that she was involved in an affair with Zane. “I know Zane wants Lilah. Now.”

Something like relief registered in his gaze. “Good.”

Her jaw tightened against another heated rush of humiliation. In terms of the welfare case against her, she absolutely could not afford to be viewed as Zane Atraeus’s mistress. “One kiss.”

Lifting up on her toes, she braced her palms on the hard muscle of his shoulders. The firm touch of his hands at her waist, drawing her closer, sent a sensual shock through her as she took a shallow breath and touched her mouth to his.

The kiss, as brief as it was, sent sensation shivering through her, unexpectedly powerful and laced with memories that were still sharp-edged and bittersweet.

The humid warmth of a summer’s night, the sibilant wash of waves on the beach, the weight of Gabriel’s body pressing down on hers...

She inhaled and the faintly resinous scent of his cologne shivered through her. If she hadn’t known before that she had made a mistake in kissing Gabriel, she knew it then.

It had taken her years to be able to view what they had shared as a casual encounter that had gotten out of hand, years to get over his easy defection.

The heated tension cut off as another camera flash temporarily blinded her, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps as the reporter made his escape.

The reporter. Her stomach churned at the new publicity, which she hated, even though she knew that in this case kissing Gabriel had been expedient. Doing so negated the earlier, potentially damning photo that had been taken of her hugging Zane.

Gabriel’s head lifted, and in that instant she was aware of the creak of a door opening a few meters down the hall. It was Zane. Thankfully, his back was to her as he stepped out into the corridor, juggling bags and keys.

A split second later, darkness engulfed her as Gabriel pulled her through the opening into the narrow space behind the wall and even more tightly into his arms.

The door, which appeared to be spring-loaded, snicked shut behind her, the fit seamless, closing them into a dim, claustrophobic hallway that smelled of damp and ages-old dust. She had expected the ancient hide to be pitch-black, but surprisingly, the very modern glow of an electric lightbulb glowed at one end, illuminating a stone stairwell.

Heart still pounding with an overload of adrenaline and the curious humming excitement of being close to Gabriel, she released herself from his hold and stepped back in the narrow space. Her bare back brushed against smooth stone, cool enough to make her flinch.

Closeted in the narrow space, with the pressure of his kiss still tingling on her mouth, it felt, crazily enough, as if they were a couple. For a few dizzying seconds Gemma ceased to think about everything that had gone wrong and simply wallowed in the moment.

“This way.” Gabriel indicated the set of stone steps ahead. “They go down to the armory and the stables, which have both been converted into garages and a guest suite. Not exactly as romantic as the old days, but a convenient shortcut if you’ve forgotten your car keys.”

She caught the flash of his grin and out of nowhere her stomach turned a somersault.

The small warning jolt that went with that reaction was swamped by a surge of pure happiness as she found herself smiling back. She had just done a completely stupid thing: she had embarrassed and humiliated herself with the bungled seduction attempt and a reporter was brewing another scandal. But as she stood, crowded close to Gabriel in the secret hideaway, a dangerous thrill shot down her spine.

Lips still damp and tingling, on edge and acutely aware of the intimacy of being alone with the one man she thought she would never be alone with again, Gemma followed Gabriel.

Her stomach churned at how close she had come to disaster. She knew why she had kissed Gabriel. It had been the rescue she had needed, but she had no idea why he had kissed her.

With every second that passed the gratitude that had flooded her when he had stepped in to help dissipated, and Gabriel’s presence in the exact moment when she had needed help became stranger and more confusing. Kindness? Definitely. Desire?

She drew a sharp breath at the question that had been hovering at the back of her mind. Not seriously.

As he paused at the top of the stairwell, the light from the bare bulb gleamed over taut cheekbones, a blade-straight nose and the lash of an old scar over one temple. As his gaze locked with hers, she remembered with a small jolt that he had gotten the scar during a knife attack on Medinos when he was a teenager.

Trained in self-defence, as were all the members of his family, he had taken the knife and ended the attempted mugging, but the scar invested Gabriel with a barbaric quality. New Zealand born he may be, but she couldn’t let herself forget that he was the head of an ancient and wealthy family that could trace its lineage back centuries.

“Don’t worry about the reporter, he can’t follow unless he knows where the mechanism that opens the door is, which reminds me...”

He paused at the head of the steps, his expression shifting instantly back to neutral as he slid his cell out of his trouser pocket.

His conversation with the Castello’s security—who should have checked the man’s press credentials—was brief and to the point. His gaze touched on hers again as he hung up. “I didn’t see a press card on his lapel. If he doesn’t have an invitation, with any luck, they’ll stop him before he gets out of the Castello and erase the pictures.”

Her face burning uncomfortably hot again, Gemma glanced down at the incriminating gleam of black lace in the carry bag, the handle of which was still looped over one arm. Surreptitiously, she tucked the negligee lower. “Thank you.”

Although she didn’t hold out much hope that erasing the photos from the reporter’s camera would be the end of the matter. Knowing her luck, the photos had already been emailed to the editor of some tabloid scandal sheet.

“When we reach ground level, we’ll be close to where my car is parked. If you want I can give you a ride back to your hotel.”

Gemma sent him another strained smile. “You don’t have to do that.” She already felt stressed and indebted to Gabriel. Now that she was finally back to thinking logically, rather than simply panicking and reacting, the last thing she wanted was to impose on him any further. “I’ve got my cell with me. I can call a taxi.”

Pausing beneath the glare of the single bulb, he glanced at his wristwatch. “If you haven’t prebooked a taxi, you’ll probably have to wait. Medinos doesn’t have that many, and when Constantine throws a party, they’re mostly booked in advance by the guests.” His gaze touched on hers. “You could always wait out front. Chances are you could find someone who will be willing to share one with you.”

A shudder of pure horror went through Gemma. In that moment, she was also certain that Gabriel knew that standing on the front steps of the Castello, where journalists could easily find her, was the absolute last thing she wanted.

That meant he had probably read the press stories about her, which made sense of his timely appearance almost directly across from Zane’s suite. She was grateful he had decided to intervene, although wary of his motives. Given that he had suggested the kiss, she would be naive to discount the fact that as crazy as it seemed, Gabriel still felt something for her. As seductive as that fact was, she was also overwhelmingly aware of the danger. Gabriel had the power to make things better, but if he ever discovered that he was the father of her child, he could also cause further complications.

Lifting her chin, she met his gaze. “I think you know that exposing myself to any further media attention is not exactly at the top of my ‘to do’ list.”

“I know there’s a child. I also know there’s a problem with custody, in which case pressuring Zane was the last thing you should have tried.”

* * *

Gabriel watched the warm color drain from Gemma’s face, leaving her looking pale and a little shocked. He hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but neither did he have much patience with subtler approaches.

He vowed to have a word with Zane before he left Medinos. He didn’t care how irresistible his cousin found Gemma, if he was getting engaged—in Gabriel’s book—that meant that he now left Gemma alone, permanently.

A heady sense of satisfaction wound through him as he led the way down the steep flight of worn steps. Sound and light receded as they descended a good three levels and ended up in a dank and chilly hallway. Flagged with stone, the narrow corridor ran alongside the kitchens and pantries, and was redolent of the smells of a spicy Medinian fish stew and fresh-baked bread. Opening a squat, heavy door, he ducked under another low lintel and stepped out onto the windy northern side of the Castello.

A cold breeze, laden with sea salt, funnelled through the narrow alleyway that ran between the Castello and a set of garages. As he held out his hand to Gemma, her hair fluttered in the breeze. Gleaming strands flowed across his shoulder, sliding gossamer-soft against his jaw, filling his nostrils with the warm, tantalizing scent of gardenias.

She tucked stray strands behind one ear. As she did so her evening bag, which was hitched over one shoulder by a thin gold chain, slipped to the ground. Muttering beneath her breath, she set the carry bag down and bent to retrieve the delicate lace evening bag that matched her dress.

Gabriel beat her to it. As he handed the evening bag to her, he checked out the contents of the much larger bag. The glint of foil was definitely the top of a bottle of champagne, and the trailing black lace and silk was not the wrap he had hoped it would be; it was lingerie of some sort.

The quick twist of anger settled into a cold moment of decision.

With a smooth motion, he picked up the bag. “I can take this for you.”

With a startled glance, Gemma reached for it. “Thanks, but that won’t be necessary.”

Instead of hooking the strap of the evening bag back over her shoulder, she dropped it on top of the carry bag. The action effectively concealed the lingerie and champagne, which only succeeded in firing the edgy temper he hadn’t known he possessed even further.

He had no problem putting a name to the burning emotion that lately seemed to continually overpower him.

Jealousy.

Annoyed with the fierce emotion and his inability to control it, he shifted position to shield Gemma from the wind. As he did so a flash of movement drew his eye.

Zane was walking from the Castello’s front entrance in the direction of the garages.

Gemma’s gaze caught his. “Is there another way we can go?”

Grim satisfaction filled him that instead of chasing after Zane, Gemma was now intent on avoiding him. It was progress of a sort. “If you don’t want to go back into the Castello, I can take you back to your hotel. My car is parked in the lot beside the stables, just a few meters down the path and around the corner.” He jerked his head, indicating the direction.

Gemma sent him a brittle smile. “Thanks. I will take you up on that lift.”

Immediately, she started down the path.

Keeping pace effortlessly, because Gemma had to negotiate the path in high heels, Gabriel glanced back in Zane’s direction. Relief loosened some of his tension as he noted that his cousin had already disappeared from sight into the garage.

Common sense told him that it wasn’t likely that Zane had seen them. He had been walking through a floodlit area, while they were in semidarkness.

He probably didn’t need to be so cautious. But now that Gemma seemed to finally be free of Zane, he wasn’t about to give his cousin the chance to change his mind and entice her back again.

As they rounded a corner, Gemma tilted her head and stared at the impressive view of the seaward-facing side of the floodlit Castello where it perched high on cliffs. Some distance below, waves dashed on rocks, filling the air with the muted background roar of surf. “This place is amazing. I would have liked to have had a proper look around—” She stopped midspeech, her expression taut. “No, cancel that. I’m over castles and wealth. I’m especially over anyone holding a camera.”

Gabriel logged the sound of a powerful car, the flicker of headlights through trees as Zane accelerated down the drive. Satisfaction that his cousin was finally removed from the equation drained some of his tension. “I thought you would have visited this place a number of times.”

The hollow feeling that gripped him at the thought that over the past two years Gemma would have shared Zane’s bed on frequent occasions renewed his edgy, burning tension.

Gemma sent him a startled glance. “I visited Medinos quite a lot when I was Zane’s PA, but I was never invited to the Castello. This was my first, and last, visit.”

Gemma halted so suddenly beneath an ancient gnarled olive tree that he almost walked into her. “What I don’t get is why you’re helping me?”

Because he was tired of fixing everyone else’s lives and wanted his own back. Because he wanted more of what they’d shared six years ago.

An acute awareness of Gemma’s nearness burned through Gabriel. The rich, tantalizing scent of gardenias teased his nostrils again. The banked anger at Zane’s cavalier treatment of her flared a little hotter, and he was abruptly glad for the intense pooling darkness beneath the tree.

As soon as he had an opportunity, he intended to track Zane down and confront him with his behavior. If he was getting engaged, that meant he had established a relationship some time ago and yet had still continued to see Gemma. “Maybe I don’t like the way Zane’s treated you.”

Surprise flickered in her gaze, and he wondered grimly what had happened to her over the past few years that she hadn’t registered how shabbily she had been treated.

Her chin tilted. “Zane hasn’t treated me badly. He’s been extremely kind to me.” Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and for a moment the air turned molten.

Drawing in a sharp breath, as if she had been just as affected as he, Gemma looked quickly away. “I like Zane. He’s been a good friend. I’ve just had a run of bad luck, that’s all.”

Before he could answer, she walked briskly on ahead, and paused at a fork in the path, the sea breeze molding the black lace of her dress against her slim curves, making her look thinner than he remembered, oddly solitary and fragile.

Gabriel indicated the correct direction. His annoyance leached away as Gemma walked quickly on, now clearly wary of his presence. He had ruthlessly pushed her, moving into her personal space and suggesting the kiss. After the electrifying heat of the kiss and her unmistakable response, he had expected her to back off.

What he couldn’t understand was why she was protecting Zane. The only conclusion he could draw was that despite Zane’s upcoming engagement and the callous way he had dumped her, Gemma still harbored a soft spot for his cousin.

It was a complication Gabriel hadn’t anticipated, and one he was determined to eradicate.

If Gemma hadn’t been attracted to him, he would have stepped back from the situation, but that wasn’t the case. Her response had been immediate and clear. He had seen it in the way her gaze had clung to his, the heat rimming her cheekbones, and felt it in the softness of her mouth and the rapid thud of her heart as they’d kissed.

He might have been out of the loop for a while when it came to the murky area of relationships, but one kiss and the years had spun away. He hadn’t mistaken her response, and his own had been just as visceral, just as powerful, the chemistry sizzling between them hot enough to burn.

As far as he was concerned, Zane had had his chance. If he hadn’t been able to commit in two years, and with a child in the mix, then he couldn’t really want Gemma.

But Gabriel did.

The concept, which had grown in him over the past twenty-four hours—ever since he had read the newspaper article—was powerful and irrevocable.

Gabriel knew his nature. He was a Messena to the bone, but along with the hot-blooded, volatile streak, from an early age his father had impressed upon him the need to develop a level head and a steely discipline. As a result, when it came to the stormy seas of romance and passion, it took a great deal to sway him.

He had never been in love; he couldn’t imagine the havoc that would cause, but something significant had happened between him and Gemma.

Instead of dissolving with the passage of time, the attraction had stuck with him. In six years he had been unable to forget her.

The moment was clarifying. He realized that after years of avoidance, he had finally applied the deliberate, methodical process he used to weigh a business proposition, and he had reached a moment of clear decision.

In this case it was a definite yes to more than just passion.

A sharp thrill shot down his spine at the thought of picking up on the relationship that had been snuffed out before it had had a chance six years ago.

He filled his lungs with tangy sea air and felt more alive than he had in years. Six years to be exact, since the last time he had experienced genuine passion, in a small, sandy beach house in Dolphin Bay.