‘I want you,’ he panted against her lips.
‘I know,’ she gasped.
To her frustration Adam tore his mouth away, his arms cruelly tight as he fought for control. ‘I didn’t mean to lose it like that,’ he muttered into her tumbled hair. ‘At least, not yet.’
Gabriel pulled away a little, her breath tearing through her chest as she stared into his smouldering eyes.
‘I told myself I’d wait until you’d finished the restoration. No—don’t flash those eyes at me.’ Adam held her fast when she tried to break free. ‘Not because I thought you’d stop work on it. But because I wanted every trace of the professional removed from our relationship first. I want the woman, Gabriel, not just the skills. Here in my arms, like this.’
Gabriel subsided against his shoulder. ‘Does this mean you expect to sleep with me?’ She felt a deep breath swell his chest.
‘Hope, not expect,’ he said gruffly. ‘And, however much evidence seems to the contrary, not tonight. I can’t risk having you think I was ready to pounce the moment your parents left you alone.’
‘I’ve been alone here ever since you arrived on the scene.’
‘And don’t think the thought of making love to you has been far from my mind from the first moment we met,’ he said fiercely. ‘But there’s a snag. You’re Harry Brett’s daughter. It goes against my principles to rush you into bed the moment his back’s turned.’
Gabriel got up and put herself back together, then stood in front of the fireplace to look down her nose at Adam. ‘Always supposing I agreed to be rushed.’
He leapt up and stood close, making no attempt to hide his arousal. ‘Are you denying that you responded to me?’
‘No. But I wouldn’t have let you take me to bed, Adam,’ she lied, lashing out at him for leaving her in a state of frustration new in her experience. ‘I’m not into one-night stands.’
Adam seized her arms, his eyes blazing with such fury Gabriel’s breath caught. ‘Is that all this was to you?’ he said through his teeth. ‘To me it was something different. Very different, fool that I am.’ He released her so suddenly she staggered in the impractical heels.
‘What do you mean?’ she demanded, rubbing her arms.
‘What the hell does it matter?’ he said roughly, and picked up his jacket.
Another minute, Gabriel knew, and he would walk out. ‘Adam, please.’
He turned to look at her. ‘Please what?’
She swallowed hard, suddenly desperate to cry. ‘Men do tend to want one-night stands.’
‘Of course they do. I’ve enjoyed a few myself. But that’s not what I want with you, Gabriel.’ He raked a hand through his hair, eyeing her impatiently. ‘Surely to God you can tell I’m in love with you?’
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE silence in the room was so prolonged after his statement it took enormous effort on Gabriel’s part to break it. ‘How can you possibly mean that? You hardly know me,’ she said at last.
Adam’s face emptied of expression. ‘As I told you before, I never say anything I don’t mean.’
‘It’s not so long since you were lusting after Della,’ she reminded him.
‘Della has nothing to do with this.’ His eyes glittered coldly. ‘And you forgot about her just now.’
‘So did you.’
‘I’d forgotten about her long before then.’
Gabriel eyed him uncertainly, aware that her cool response had hurt him. But declarations of love were something new in her life. In the past a lot of men had wanted her, and she had been attracted to some of them. But love had never been part of the equation. And marriage a prospect to avoid at all costs. Her parents had married for love, but it hadn’t, in the end, been enough.
Adam turned away. ‘I’d better go.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Gabriel penitently.
He looked back at her. ‘For what, in particular?’
‘For my lack of grace, I suppose. No one’s ever said that to me before.’
He spun round, staring at her blankly. ‘Not even Jeremy?’
She shook her head. ‘As I keep telling you, we don’t have that kind of relationship.’
Adam eyed her in silence for a moment, then gave her a wry grin. ‘At the risk of sounding repetitious, let’s start again. For the second—or is it the third time now? And forget I ever mentioned my feelings.’
Easier said than done for Gabriel. The words seemed to hang in the air between them like a banner strung across the room.
‘Goodnight, Gabriel.’ He thrust his arms into his jacket, his eyes intent on her face.
‘Thank you for dinner,’ she said with difficulty, not sure what she wanted, only that she didn’t want him to leave.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘It’s early. You don’t have to go yet.’
He looked sceptical. ‘Is that a desire for my company, or reluctance to be alone in the house?’
Gabriel turned her back, a sudden lump in her throat. What on earth was the matter with her? She blinked tears away angrily, and Adam moved to stand behind her, not touching her for a moment, then with a sigh he slid his arms round her waist and rested his cheek on her hair. Gabriel stood very still for what seemed like hours, afraid to move in case Adam interpreted it as rejection. But at last she gave a stifled little giggle and twisted round in his arms.
‘I must take my shoes off,’ she told him. ‘They’re killing me.’
Adam gave a snort of laughter, and suddenly harmony was restored. ‘Kick them off, then.’
Gabriel did so, wiggling her bare toes in relief. ‘After spending most of my time in sneakers lately these were a bit ambitious. But I was determined to make a good impression tonight.’
‘Why?’
‘I thought you might meet people who knew you. I didn’t want to let you down.’
‘As if you could ever do that,’ said Adam, and took his jacket off again.
Taking this as a sign he meant to stay for a while, Gabriel offered him another beer.
‘Better not,’ he said regretfully. ‘And tonight I’ll have enough to keep me awake without adding coffee to the list. How about a glass of that water of yours?’
This time they sat at the table to drink it, and Adam gave Gabriel a very straight look over his glass. ‘This seems like a good opportunity to clear up any mistaken assumptions you’ve made about me, Miss Brett.’
‘By all means,’ she said, eager to talk about anything that would keep him a little longer.
‘I admit that as an adult my life has rarely been devoid of feminine company. But I keep all that separate from Friars Wood.’ He smiled. ‘You look surprised.’
‘But you’ve got a private place of your own,’ Gabriel pointed out.
‘And it’s twenty miles from Pennington. Also right next door to my parents. I’ve never asked any woman to stay the night there. Yet.’
Rather shaken by her pleasure at the discovery, Gabriel smiled in comprehension. ‘And if you invite someone for a meal, and she lives in town, she either has to drive herself home or you’re committed to a forty-mile round trip to top off the evening. Don’t you know anyone local and more convenient?’
‘Of course I do, but usually they’re sisters of friends, or friends of my sisters, and not the type of female I could ask to my place without a lot more being read into it than intended. I play away when it comes to socialising in that context.’ Adam shrugged. ‘Besides, my retreat is my own private place. Except for Kate, who used it a lot for studying when I was away in university, and the momentous Christmas when Leo gave birth to her son unexpectedly in my big brass bed, the only person who sleeps at the Stables is me. Nor do I wine and dine anyone there, either.’
But he took me there the other night, she thought suddenly.
‘Exactly,’ said Adam, mind-reading. ‘So if by any chance you fancy sleeping in my brass bed you’ll receive a warm welcome, Gabriel Brett. Any time.’
‘I’ll keep that in mind
,’ she promised lightly.
‘On which happy note I’ll say goodnight,’ said Adam, getting up. ‘Otherwise you’ll be too tired to concentrate on your work tomorrow. The work I’m paying through the nose for.’
‘I may be expensive,’ Gabriel said militantly, ‘but I’m good.’
Adam gave a shout of laughter and hauled her to her feet and kissed her soundly. ‘The best there is. Now, give me that key, please.’
Gabriel searched in the old rolltop desk under the window, and found a spare key in a small drawer under the pigeonholes. ‘As you can see,’ she said dryly, ‘this room serves as office as well as kitchen-cum-parlour.’
‘I’m amazed you don’t set up a bed here, too.’
‘On the ground floor? No way.’
Adam made sure the key fitted the big iron lock in the door, then replaced her own and turned to her with a look Gabriel interpreted as a desire to kiss her again. This time she moved close and held up her face, and Adam took her in his arms and touched his lips fleetingly to hers.
‘Again?’ she whispered, which brought Adam’s mouth down on hers with more heat, and Gabriel curved her body into his involuntarily as he held her close.
‘This isn’t fair,’ he said harshly, and put her away.
‘Will I see you tomorrow?’ she asked.
‘I promised your father I’d look after you,’ he reminded her, kissed her on both cheeks and opened the door. ‘Lock it behind me.’
Gabriel saluted smartly. ‘Yessir. And thank you.’
‘What for?’
‘Everything.’
During a very restless night, when she paid no attention for once to the settling timbers, Gabriel realised that Adam had probably expected at least some kind of response to his unexpected declaration. But what, exactly? She had quite desperately wanted him to take his lovemaking to the natural conclusion. Sexual frustration might be a new experience in her life, but it was unmistakable, just the same. But none of that meant she was in love with him. Did it? It wasn’t so long since she’d bristled at the mere sound of his name. But meeting him in the flesh at last had changed that to the point where she enjoyed his company so much she missed him badly when she didn’t see him, and was only too happy to work her socks off to restore his painting to earn a lot of money for him. Her problem was lack of a benchmark to measure her feelings by. Having never been in love, it was difficult to know whether her response to him was anything more than a natural reaction to a very attractive, charming man. She’d had boyfriends in college, and men-friends afterwards, but none of them had been in the least like Adam—Jeremy Blyth least of all.
To her disappointment Gabriel’s only contact with Adam the next day was by telephone. The day was no problem. The time flew by as she laboured over the painting, by this stage wielding her favourite little shovel-shaped scalpel to remove every last scrap of varnish. But even though Wayne and Eddie were happy to stay on for an extra hour, the evening stretched out interminably once everything was locked away and the Harley-Davidson had gone roaring down the road to plunge Haywards Farm into deeper silence afterwards. She tried to persuade herself to drive into Pennington to see a film, but the prospect of returning alone to the gloomy old house was enough to decide her against it.
Gabriel was utterly unprepared for the depth of her disappointment when Adam made no attempt to monopolise her free time. Which was her reward for her graceless reaction to his words of love. If they were really the first he’d ever made to a woman, they’d merited a better reception. With nothing else to do Gabriel caught up with her ironing, and spent a lot of time on the phone talking to her parents and some of her London friends, and it was after ten when Adam rang, just as she was saying goodnight to her mother on the house phone.
‘At last,’ said Adam, when she answered him. ‘Who were you talking to on the other line all evening?’
Gabriel explained. ‘Just catching up,’ she said casually.
‘So how’s my lovely lady?’
Her rush of pleasure receded abruptly when she realised he meant his painted Henrietta. ‘Looking good. I’ll start varnishing tomorrow—’
‘Tomorrow’s Saturday.’
‘So it is.’
‘I promised Harry I’d see you took time off at the weekend.’
Gabriel brightened at the possibility of an invitation of some kind. ‘Far be it from me to make you break your promise,’ she said at last. ‘All right, I’ll take the day off.’
‘I’m tied up at Dysart’s for a while tomorrow, but if you come into Pennington I could meet you for lunch, and take you round the lots we’ve got ready for auction. Or have you got a programme of your own you prefer?’ he added casually.
Gabriel’s programme for Saturday had been a first coat of varnish for the portrait, then a session with the washing machine and a trip to a supermarket to lay in food for the coming week. ‘Nothing I can’t rearrange,’ she assured him, her spirits soaring.
‘Come to Dysart’s about one, then.’
‘Adam?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you still angry with me?’
‘Not angry, Gabriel,’ he said at last, after a pause so long she thought the line had gone dead.
‘Hurt, then?’
‘If I say yes, are you offering to kiss the hurt better?’
‘Possibly.’
‘I’ll hold you to that,’ he promised, a note in his voice which made her toes curl.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then.’
‘Are you in bed yet?’
‘No. I’m downstairs.’
‘Then check your locks and alarms while you’re talking to me.’
‘Right away, sir,’ she said smartly, and went on her security round, chatting to him as she went.
‘Now lock yourself in your bedroom before you ring off,’ he ordered.
‘No way. I’m going to make a sandwich and watch some television before I go to bed.’
‘Then ring me once you’re in bed.’
‘It may be late.’
‘Ring me just the same.’
Next day it was cooler and overcast, but Gabriel woke up to a warm glow of anticipation for the day ahead. After breakfast she indulged herself with a long read in the bath, then took a long time over her hair and face. She dressed in jeans and a tailored white shirt, collected a pale pink fleece, checked all the alarms, locked up, tossed a yellow slicker in the car in case it rained, then set off for Pennington.
Gabriel parked the car outside the supermarket, did her shopping, then strolled into Pennington through streets of pleasing houses and expensive shops to make for Dysart’s Auction House, which according to Adam had once been a private dwelling during the Regency, when Pennington had been a fashionable spa. These days the disused chapel next door was part of the premises and kept for the general auctions, where everything went under the hammer from 60s memorabilia to farm implements. But for the present auction the elegant main premises would be used for the furniture and fine art on offer.
When Gabriel arrived she was directed up two flights of stairs to Adam’s office. He leapt up from his desk with a smile as she popped her head round the door and drew her inside and into his arms to kiss her at such length her cheeks were poppy-red by the time he set her free.
‘Hello,’ he whispered, his dark eyes gleaming. ‘You promised to kiss me better, remember?’
‘I said possibly!’
‘You’re late,’ he accused.
‘I’m not. I’m early.’
Adam looked at his watch. ‘So you are. But I’ve missed you. My attempt at dressage probably affected me a whole lot more than it did you.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Dressage?’
‘I stayed away from you yesterday—with enormous difficulty—because I hoped my absence would make your heart grow fonder.’ He touched a caressing hand to her hot cheek. ‘Did my scheme work?’
Like a charm, but Gabriel would have walked through fire rather than admit it. ‘I’ve b
een too busy with your Singleton,’ she lied.
Adam heaved a theatrical sigh. ‘As I said before, Gabriel Brett, you’re a hard woman.’
‘I’m hungry, too.’ She smiled at him. ‘And today I’m going to buy lunch.’
He shook his head and closed the door behind her, revealing a small side table with a tray and covered dishes. ‘I had lunch sent in.’
Gabriel opened her mouth to protest but a knock on the door preceded an elderly man who announced that everyone had left, and would Adam kindly make sure all the security measures were in place before he finished for the day.
‘Of course I will, Reg. Let me introduce you. Gabriel, this is Reg Parker, without whom Dysart’s would probably come to a full stop. Reg, this is Miss Brett.’
Gabriel found her hand wrung with painful enthusiasm. ‘You must be Mr Harry Brett’s daughter,’ said the man, beaming. ‘I can see the likeness. I trust your father’s on the mend?’
‘Much better, thanks.’ Gabriel smiled warmly. ‘He’s taken a holiday to convalesce.’
‘Please give him my regards.’ Reg Parker turned to Adam. ‘You won’t forget about the locks?’
Restless Nights Page 10