by Lucy Ryder
She looked both touchable and as distant as a star, and she literally took his breath away. The one-sleeved dress was a feat of engineering that hugged and draped her curves before falling to the floor in a luxurious cascade of soft folds from an artfully draped row of fabric blossoms at her hip. It was at once modest and incredibly revealing, and while it cleverly covered her scarred right arm it exposed her flawless shoulder and arm entirely.
He didn’t realize he’d been standing there staring at her like a lovesick schoolboy until someone bumped into him, jolting him out of his trance. With his eyes on her, he murmured an apology and started forward.
She must have sensed his stare because she looked up and their gazes locked. It was like one of those sappy movie moments when two people locked eyes across a crowded room. Everything faded—the people, the noise, the opulence—until there was only the two of them.
After a few heated beats a tentative smile trembled on her lips and warmth filled him, rising in his chest like bubbles in a champagne glass. Her gaze dropped to the dimple in his cheek and he realized he was smiling too.
Oh, yeah, he thought, she couldn’t resist his dimples. Or his kisses. He just hoped she listened to what he had to say.
“Oh, Gabriel,” a low feminine voice came from behind him. “I’m so glad you made it.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
GABRIEL TURNED TO find Delia Buchanan at his elbow and wasn’t the least bit surprised when she cupped his face in her hands studied him for a few beats before reaching up to kiss his cheek.
“Good evening, Mrs. Buchanan. Wow. You look amazing.” She wore a simple off-the-shoulder black jersey dress only a true blonde could pull off.
“Oh, darn.” She laughed up at him. “I was hoping the best-looking man in the room would call me by my name and make all the other women jealous.”
Gabe smiled and kissed her cheek. “You’re the most beautiful woman here, Delia,” he murmured, his gaze sliding to Holly, who was watching them with an odd expression on her face. A kind of hopeful yearning that grabbed him by the throat and tugged him toward her. “After your daughter, of course.”
She squeezed his arm. “And you’re incredibly sweet, Gabriel. I only hope she knows how lucky she is.”
“I’m the lucky one,” he said, watching as color blossomed beneath Holly’s skin. “Or I will be when I finally corner her and—”
She gasped softly, looking stunned and desperately hopeful. “Oh…oh, my…you’re in love with her.”
Gabe felt the back of his neck grow hot and grimaced. “It’s that obvious?”
A lovely smile transformed her features and he caught his breath at how very much alike Holly and her mother were. “Only to a mother who’s been waiting for this moment for a long, long time,” she said on a rush of emotion. “For someone to love her enough to overlook the scars.”
“She’s beautiful,” he murmured, taking in Holly’s creamy skin, heavily lashed eyes and the tendrils of dark hair framing her oval face. “Inside and out.” He turned to Delia. “Like her mother.”
Tears filled her eyes and her breath hitched audibly. “Oh, you.” She pressed her hand into the center of her chest and blinked a few times. She gave a soft sniff. “Look what you’ve done now. You’ve made me all weepy.”
Gabriel felt his skull tighten. The last thing he’d wanted was to upset Holly’s mother. Not tonight. Not ever. He shoved unsteady fingers through his hair and looked around for an escape route but there wasn’t one.
Maybe he should have taken Westchester up on that drink after all. “Oh, man, I’m…sorry. Can I get you anything? Water, champagne? Anything?”
Delia laughed tearfully as she nudged his shoulder and he realized he’d started to sound desperate there for a second. “Look at you, getting all panicky over a few tears,” she hiccupped. “Besides, what’s a little smudged mascara when someone loves my baby?”
Embarrassed, Gabe rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his feet, feeling fifteen again. “Yeah, well,” he said, clearing his throat. “Maybe I should see if she’ll forgive me for being a colossal ass first.”
“Oh, before you do,” Delia said, as though she’d suddenly remembered. “There’s someone I want you to meet first. He’s a huge contributor to both the hospital and the foundation.” She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and urged him forward. “In fact, he’s responsible for the planned expansion of the P&R wing. And if I’m not mistaken, he was also instrumental in getting you here.”
Gabe reluctantly allowed her to pull him forward.
“Me?”
“Oh, yes,” she said with a lovely smile. “We only wanted the best for the program. In fact, the endowment depended on you heading up the team.”
Gabriel frowned and wondered at the sudden bad feeling in his stomach. “That’s a bit harsh. I’m sure there are other surgeons who could have filled the position.”
“They wanted the best and apparently that’s you.” She squeezed his arm and sent him a proud smile. “Here we are,” she said brightly, reaching out to touch the shoulder of a much older man who had his back to them.
When he turned, Gabe’s blood froze.
Through the dull roaring in his ears he heard Delia Buchanan say, “Mr. Alexander, I’d like to introduce you to the hospital’s newest acquisition. He’s already made a huge difference to some of our recipients.” As though she’d felt the instant Gabe’s muscles turn to stone, she flicked him a concerned look before including the other members of the group.
“This is Dr. Al…ex…an…der?” Her eyes widened as enlightenment slowly dawned. She gave a shocked gasp, her gaze whipping up to his—looking suddenly shaken and distressed. “Oh.” She lifted a trembling hand to her chest. “Oh, Gabriel, I’m so sorry.”
As though Gabe’s worlds weren’t suddenly colliding, Caspar Alexander took Delia’s hand and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You’re looking more radiant than ever, my dear. And the ballroom’s never looked better.” Then he straightened and turned his cold blue eyes on Gabriel.
He didn’t offer his hand—probably because Gabe looked ready to take a bite of anything that moved. “Gabriel,” he said smoothly. “You’re looking well.”
Gabe’s reply, “Sir,” as frigid as the north wind, slid like an icy blade into the sudden silence. He ignored the shocked expressions around him as he zeroed in on Mark Alexander, looking as stunned as Delia Buchanan. She tightened her fingers on his arm and pressed closer to his side as though she instinctively knew what was happening and was offering her silent support.
And Gabriel, grateful for her warm maternal presence, fell in love for the second time that day. He covered the hand gripping his arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“Hello, Dad,” he said with a blade-sharp smile. “Long time no see.” And had the satisfaction of seeing Mark Alexander turn white. As though Mark had seen a ghost—or maybe his past coming up to bite him in the ass. And though Gabe wanted to hate him, he realized Mark was as stunned as the rest of the Alexander clan. A quick glance at Caspar showed the old man looking pleased, as though he’d orchestrated the events for maximum shock value.
Clearly Caspar wasn’t done controlling his family. But Gabriel wasn’t family and he had no intention of being manipulated by anyone. Especially the old bastard.
Oh, wait, he thought savagely. He was the unwanted son. He was the long “lost” grandson Caspar wanted to pull into his web of lies, deceit and tight-fisted control. He hadn’t managed to bribe Gabe with riches and power three years ago so he’d gone for the jugular. He’d bought Gabe the one thing he’d needed after his mother’s death—to do something worthwhile. To help people who really needed it, not just because they could afford to pay for their vanity.
The expression on her mother’s face sent Holly’s pulse ratcheting up a couple of thousand notches. Something was wrong, she thought, murmuring an excuse to Senator James and his wife. Seriously wrong.
Gabriel, looking coldly furiou
s, appeared to have been turned to stone but it was the distress on her mother’s face and the way she clutched at his arm that had Holly moving quickly toward them.
She recognized the old man facing her and if she wondered what Caspar Alexander had said to make Gabriel so mad, she arrived just as he turned to his son with a coldly satisfied smile.
“Mark,” he said airily. “Meet your son. Steven, Jade and Courtney, meet your brother. Dr. Gabriel Alexander.” Holly’s gasp was drowned out by other shocked gasps around them. Gleefully enjoying the drama, Caspar turned to Gabriel and with a gesture of disgust he said, “Son, meet your family.”
Holly froze, her eyes locked on the frozen tableau before her. Gabriel had stiffened even more until the air vibrated with tension.
“You don’t get to call me son,” he said quietly, lethally. “You don’t get to call me anything. You gave up that right the night you tried to force my mother to have an abortion.”
Holly’s horrified gasp covered her mother’s soft moan and she grabbed Delia’s hand and squeezed. The ballroom had gone ominously quiet and people were beginning to stare.
And to Holly’s shock, instead of denying the claim, Caspar just snorted derisively. “I did you a favor, boy,” he said. “Look at you. You’re a self-made man. If I hadn’t, you might have ended up just like them.” He waved a whiskey-filled glass.
“Father?” Mark Alexander asked faintly, looking alarmingly pale. “Is that true? You threatened Rachel? You told me she’d lost the baby. You told me she’d moved west to get over the loss. How could you do this? I did everything you asked of me.”
“Yes, you did.” The old man nodded, casually lifting the whiskey tumbler to his lips. “Maybe I would have respected you more if you’d defied me. Maybe these blood-sucking offspring of yours would have grown up to be more like Gabriel. More like me.”
“I’m nothing like you,” Gabriel snarled.
“Oh, yes, you are,” Caspar interrupted. “You wouldn’t have dragged yourself up from the gutter if you weren’t.”
Gabriel looked like he was contemplating murder. “I did it for my mother, not for you.”
“I was wrong,” Caspar said, but Holly’s gaze was locked on Mark’s face and knew the instant he was in trouble. “Rachel Parker was a fine woman, and a good mother. Look how well you—”
“Gabriel, your father—” Holly began, stepping toward the older man, who was clutching his chest and starting to buckle. Gabriel, quickly assessing the situation, leapt forward, catching Mark before he fell.
“Mom,” Holly murmured. “Call 911.” She dropped to her knees beside the gray and gasping man. “Gabriel, I’ll do it,” she began, placing her hands on Mark’s chest to begin CPR, but Gabriel brushed her aside.
He pulled his father into a sitting position and thumped him hard on the back. “Cough,” he said sharply. “And hard, like you’ve got something in your throat.”
Holly’s gaze snapped up. “What—?” Of course. “He’s right, Mr. Alexander, cough really hard.” Mark looked at them like they were crazy. “Please,” Holly said, her eyes filling with tears. “It’ll get your heart beating properly again.”
Her encouragement worked and with Gabriel’s help Mark started coughing, a little feebly at first, then harder until his color gradually returned.
Holly sat back, her eyes locked on Gabriel’s face. He’d had every right to turn and walk away—had had every opportunity—yet he hadn’t. And here he was, saving the man who hadn’t been there for his mother. Hadn’t been there for him.
As though sensing her gaze, Gabriel suddenly looked up and their eyes locked. The stark fear and desperate hope in them nearly crushed Holly and it was in that moment she realized the naked truth.
She was in love with him and she would do anything—anything—to help him through this.
“I’ll get some brandy,” she said, and rose to her feet.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HOLLY PAUSED OUTSIDE the hospital room, her gaze riveted on Gabriel’s broad back and the rumpled sun-streaked hair that appeared even more rumpled than usual.
She wanted more than anything to go to him and smooth the unruly locks that tended to flop onto his forehead but her heart was hammering against her ribs and she was still struggling to catch her breath after dashing halfway across the island.
Okay, she’d only dashed a few blocks, but in four-inch glittery heels and a long snug evening gown it was a miracle she hadn’t broken her neck.
Her heart now, well, that was another matter altogether, especially when it gave a sharp wrench at the picture he made, silhouetted against the darkened sky. Her breath caught in her throat.
Oh, God. He looked so lonely and solitary … as if the weight of the universe rested on his broad shoulders. And suddenly she wanted to go to him, rest her head against his broad back and give him what he needed.
With his back to the room, and hands buried deep in the pockets of his tux pants, he faced the darkened window overlooking the lights of Manhattan. At any other time the view might have distracted Holly, but her attention was riveted on his tense back and the I-want-to-be-alone aura he’d wrapped around himself like an invisible cloak.
She’d returned to find Mark recovering nicely but planning to return to their room. There’d been no sign of Gabriel but she’d known instinctively where to find him.
“You shouldn’t be here, Holly,” he said quietly.
“Why not?” she asked, just as quietly, her heart suddenly aching with the realization she’d made a short while ago. She’d suspected she was in love after her father’s birthday but she’d hoped it was just a little crush. Hoped it would fade with time. It hadn’t. Wouldn’t … ever.
“You said we needed to talk.”
He gave a ragged laugh. “Really? You want to talk now?”
She stepped into the room. “It’s quiet, we’re alone. What better time?”
“I made a mistake.” His voice was so low and ragged in the quiet room that she strained to hear the words that seemed to be wrenched from a place of deep pain. The suppressed emotion in it drew her across the room.
“With what?” she asked, joining him at the window.
He sighed heavily. “Coming here. You.”
Oh. Her breath caught at the unexpected shaft of pain his words sent lancing through her heart. And she knew in that instant how it would feel—as though her heart was being ripped from her chest and crushed. “You …” She gulped. “You can’t mean that?”
“Yes,” he asserted, sounding unbearably weary. “I do. I knew I should stay away from you but now …” He sent her a brief glance.
“Now … what?”
He shook his head. “I can’t imagine that you would want to have anything to do with me. Not now.”
Her eyes widened and she licked her lips. “What do you mean?”
“You heard me, Holly.” He gave a short laugh. “Hell, the entire ballroom heard me.”
Holly was confused. Yes, she’d heard him but couldn’t remember him saying anything to be ashamed of. “You mean when you called your grandfather a ruthless warlord who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as the rest of humanity?”
He snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, that would be it.”
She was silent for a couple of beats. “Is that the truth? Did he pay your mother to have an abortion?”
“Yeah. Pretty much. Although it apparently went more along the lines of ‘If you don’t take care of it the next person I send will make sure that thing doesn’t survive another week’ kind of thing.”
“Well, then, the shame’s on him, isn’t it?” She bumped his shoulder with hers. “I’m glad your mother didn’t take his money.” She sent him a warm smile. “It showed guts. She must be awesome. I can see where you get it from.”
His somber expression lightened. “She was. A real fighter. She lost the fight to cancer a few months ago.”
She faced him now. “Oh, Gabriel, I’m so sorry. Is that … when you
decided to move east?”
He frowned and Holly could see the subject change upset him. A muscle in his jaw flexed. “I got a letter from West Manhattan offering me my own team of top surgeons, promises of unlimited funds and the most up-to-date technology in the best teaching hospital in the world.” He barked out a hard laugh. “I was flattered. I couldn’t believe they’d chosen me to—”
He broke off with a muttered oath and turned away, fisting both hands as though he was controlling himself with effort. But she’d seen the fury and humiliation burning in his blue-green gaze and her heart broke for him. She could understand what it would do to such a proud, determined man.
“Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to find out that I was forced onto Langley, onto Hunt?” he demanded.
“Oh, Gabriel. My mother’s devastated that she said anything. She didn’t know. She would never do anything like that knowingly.”
“It’s not Delia’s fault I handled it so badly.” He shifted his shoulders as though to loosen some of the tension there. “I can’t think what she must think of me.”
“My mother said if she was twenty years younger, she’d divorce my father and marry you herself.”
He laughed and Holly’s heart lifted at the sound, even though it was ragged and a bit rusty. “Yeah.” His dimple emerged, distracting her from his next words. “I think I love your mother.” And when they finally penetrated the jumble of emotion swamping her, she blinked.
“You … do?”
“How could I not?” he demanded. “When she’s so much like her daughter.”
Her heart stuttered and the fragile hope that had been slowly blooming in her chest shriveled. “What … what are you saying? Paige?”
“No, Holly,” he said gently, taking her by the shoulders and turning her so she faced him. “Not Paige. You.”
Her world tilted and swam, forcing her to blink up at him or pass out from shock. “M-me?” she stuttered, breaking off to swallow the rusty squeak emerging from her tight throat.