by Jade Kerrion
He could only give so much without feeling like a fool, as if he were pounding his head against an immovable brick wall.
He was fractions of a heartbeat away from feeling like that fool.
Gabriel ground his teeth and pressed his fingers hard against both sides of his temple to alleviate the headache that pulsed across his skull. He reached for the ever-present bottle of Tylenol and dry swallowed another two tablets.
“Gabe?” a familiar voice called from his office door.
“What is it, Josie?”
“I had a question for you, about the preparation for the Campbell case.”
He frowned and listened to her rambling question. Her tight-fitting black skirt hugged her swaying hips as she walked toward him. Her white blouse had two buttons unbuttoned, offering a tantalizing view of her cleavage. Damn it, why was he noticing this? He shook his head. His voice was sharper than he intended. “Didn’t we cover case prep earlier this afternoon? I thought you took notes.”
She pressed her quivering lips together. Her blue eyes went wide, the expression in them shockingly vulnerable, which made him feel like an ass. It wasn’t her fault—hell, she was just an intern. His lack of patience, his raw nerves, had nothing to do with her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “What was your question again?”
Josie took a step back. “No, I’m sorry. I can see you’re busy. I shouldn’t have interrupted. I’ll just check with someone else.”
“No, Josie, it’s not—I’m not busy. I’m just…” Just what? Just struggling to save my marriage? “Just a little stressed.”
A shy smile spread across her face. “We’ve noticed it here at the office.”
“Really?” Gabriel dragged his fingers through his hair. “Sorry.”
“Hey, it’s okay. Totally understandable. You’ve got more cases than anyone else, and they’re all the high profile ones too.” She closed the distance to him. “If I can help in any way, help you de-stress…”
Her face was close to his, so close he could smell the sweet fragrance of her perfume—the same fragrance Valeria wore each day; the same fragrance he wished he could smell on the pillow beside him each night.
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The smell leeched into him, pulling him back to a place where the scent of love once again surrounded him.
When lips brushed against his, the touch tentative and probing, he responded with all the frustration, need, and pent-up desire Valeria’s distance and cold aloofness had triggered in him. He sank into the kiss that welcomed him, into the arms that tightened around him.
The woman’s breathy moan shattered the illusion of love.
His eyes flashed open and he jerked away. He stared at Josie. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen. “I’m sorry.” He took an unsteady step back. “I should never—”
“No, no, I’m sorry.” She looked mortified. “You just looked so alone.” Her hands fluttered in front of her chest, as if she could wave away the moment. “Oh, God.” She turned and scurried out of his office.
Damn it. Gabriel ground his teeth. He should go after Josie to apologize and explain, but he was already late for Valeria’s Make A Wish Foundation dinner. Choices. Priorities. He stared at his clenched fists and forced himself to relax and uncurl his hands.
He had to talk to Josie and clear the air between them, even if it meant letting Valeria down—yet again.
~*~
Surrounded by the bustle of lighthearted conversation and the glitter of a star-studded event, Valeria tried to channel her energy away from the empty seats on either side of her and into the smile she pasted on her face.
One of the empty seats belonged to Gabriel. Where was he? She had reminded him of the foundation dinner last night and again that morning. He had promised to attend.
He wasn’t there.
Motion bustled beside her to take the empty seat to her left. She turned with a greeting for Gabriel, but her eyes widened. “Brett.”
“Valeria, it’s so good to see you again. I know I’ve neglected my responsibilities at this table, but there was a minor crisis with the silent auction. Apparently, several donations were misplaced.”
“Have they been found?”
“Yes, back at the office. Lesson learned. Double-check the inventory checklist myself instead of counting on the unpaid summer intern. The donations are on their way now, so we’re all set.” He smiled at the other guests around the table as he stood to shake their hands. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Brett Richardson. I’m with the foundation. Thank you for coming tonight.”
Brett inspired a burst of lively conversation around the table, but during a short break in the chatter, he turned to Valeria. “Any word on Peter’s wish yet?”
She flushed. Gabriel had yet to say anything to her about the wish. Obviously, it wasn’t on his list of priorities, however much it mattered to her. “No, not yet. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sure your husband and all the judges are busy. We’ll keep looking. I know of a couple of lawyers, probably not as well-placed as your husband, but they might be able to come through for us in a pinch.”
“Yes, of course. I’m so terribly sorry, Brett.”
He shook his head and waved her concerns away. “Don’t be.” He placed his hand over hers. “Peter will get his wish. We’ll just have to cast a wider net. It doesn’t make sense to put all our eggs in one basket. Don’t worry. It’ll be all right.” He leaned in to give her a hug.
His touch steadied her nerves, which surprised her. In light of her early reactions to him, she had expected sexual sizzle—a little spark, perhaps—but she felt only the warmth and support of his friendship.
Valeria stifled a sigh as she eased away from Brett. Beyond the superficial flicker of a woman noticing a good-looking man, Brett did not make her heart pound in anticipation; not the way Gabriel could.
Nevertheless, Brett was right, and in more ways than one. How long had all her eggs been in one basket—Gabriel’s basket?
“Val.” From behind her, Gabriel’s beautiful, deep voice called her name.
He’d come!
She turned toward him. Out of habit, she raised her face for a kiss.
In a flash—before his lips touched hers—she jerked away.
~*~
Gabriel had caught his first glimpse of Valeria from across the ballroom, and in spite of all the emotional hell she had put him through that week, his heart raced, as it always did, at the sight of her. She was stunning, even captivating. Her wine-red dress accentuated the darkness of her hair and the creamy mocha tint of her skin. Locked in a private conversation with the tuxedoed man next to her, she gave no sign of having seen Gabriel. The discussion was obviously an intense one, judging from the way her head and the man’s leaned toward each other. The man laid a hand over hers; she made no move to pull away. Moments later, the man smiled and drew her close for a hug—a hug she returned as fervently as she had received it.
Gabriel fought down the sudden flare of jealousy. Part of him wanted to turn around and leave. She had her life—her causes, her passions—the last word made him grind his teeth. He had his life, his job. Perhaps they were both done with the farce of trying to find common ground. The grand plan had been their common ground, and now that it was no longer valid, they had nothing else to replace it.
The other part of him told him that until he signed his divorce agreement, nothing was a done deal. He had no reason to believe he was winning the fight to keep his marriage alive, but it was no reason to quit.
He made his way around the tables to join Valeria. She turned as he approached. The smile she flashed him harkened back to their early days. Something ignited in him—hope, perhaps. She raised her face to his, and he leaned down to breathe a kiss on her lips.
Suddenly, she stiffened and pulled back. Her wide eyes fixed on him. Surprise transformed into fury and then blanked into the icy remoteness he despaired of ever breaking through. She turned her back on him and continued her conver
sation with the man next to her.
Obviously sensing the awkwardness, the man on Valeria’s other side introduced himself as Brett Richardson, a director with the foundation. He had clearly been assigned as a host for the table of high-dollar donors to the foundation’s causes. He was a brilliant host and managed to draw everyone around the table into conversation in spite of the obvious friction between Gabriel and Valeria.
Gabriel gritted his teeth against his recurring headache. He kept the conversation going with the distinguished gentleman on his other side, but his thoughts were focused on Valeria, who laughed and—in his biased opinion—flirted openly with Brett all evening. What had gotten into her? Trying to incite jealousy wasn’t her style. Twenty years earlier, she had been the prettiest young woman at their high school prom, and he had been the lucky kid who had won the honor of escorting her to the party. Other young men swaggered up to her, their chests puffed out to make them seem tougher and stronger than they were. She did not even seem to notice them. In fact, she had not taken her hand from his for most of that evening.
She had made him feel special.
They had been friends for years before their senior prom night, their friendship cemented by working on math problems and English homework in the library. When he was lucky enough to score a sandwich from home for his lunch, he shared it with her, and that one year, when she had qualified for free meals from school, she had shared them with him. They survived their high school years a little less hungry than they would have if they’d tried to get through those years alone.
He had always walked her home even though the trip took him far out of his way. He would never let any danger or hurt befall her. She was the most precious thing in the world to him; she had always been. As he slid the promise ring on her finger that night, he swore he would provide for her every need. She had accepted his promise and sealed it with a kiss.
Everything had seemed a great deal simpler then, when they had less to give and less to lose.
As soon as dinner ended, Valeria excused herself and stood up. She did not even look at him although she bid farewell to everyone else around the table with apparent warmth. When she left, he followed her from grand ballroom of the Ritz Carlton hotel. “Stop,” he said, reaching for her hand. “I want to talk to you.”
She yanked her hand from his. Pain shimmered in her voice. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“Val—”
She strode out of the hotel and handed the valet her claim ticket. The young man scurried around the corner. Moments later, Gabriel heard the sound of a car starting. Her car would be here in less than a minute. “Val, please. Tell me what’s going on. Why are you so angry?”
She shook her head as if she could not believe he was asking the question. Her dark blue BMW pulled up in the hotel’s circular driveway, and the valet stepped out and held the door open for her. She walked around the car. Before she stepped into it, she cast a final scathing glance at Gabriel and lifted her chin, her expression combining injured pride and wounded innocence. “You’re having an affair. I can smell her on you.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Valeria arrived home before Gabriel did, owing in part to her head start and in part to a heavy foot on the accelerator. She pulled the car into the garage and cut the engine. Tears stung her eyes. A combination of shame and fury clogged her throat.
Gabriel was having an affair.
Why had it taken her by surprise? Just because he had never seemed to have eyes for any other women before? But even a faithful man like Gabriel could stray, couldn’t he, if driven away by his wife’s neglect?
Oh, God. Her cold hands closed into fists to still the trembling. She reached for her smartphone and called Cherish. “He’s having an affair,” Valeria announced the moment Cherish answered the phone.
“What?” Cherish screeched. “No way. Not Gabe.”
“Yes, Gabriel.” The tears swelled up and blocked Valeria’s throat. “I could smell the other woman’s perfume on him. Just like mine.”
“Are you sure you weren’t just smelling yourself?”
“Of course I’m sure. I haven’t been anywhere near him long enough for my perfume to rub off on him.”
“All right. Take a deep breath. Stay calm.”
“Stay calm? He’s having an affair!”
“If you were going to divorce him anyway, does it matter?” Cherish asked, her voice cold as ice. “Maybe it is a good thing. You can use his affair to squeeze him for alimony until blood comes out of his ears.”
“I’m not trying to…” Valeria sighed. She did not bother to complete the sentence. Cherish, made wealthy by her three divorces, wouldn’t understand. I don’t want to hurt Gabriel. But hadn’t he already hurt her, first with his indifference, and then with his affair?
The other garage door started to rise. Gabriel was home too.
“I have to go,” she told Cherish and hung up on her friend. She scurried out of her car and dashed into the house. The last thing she wanted was a confrontation with him, not when she was feeling so emotional and frayed. She would never stand a chance against him. He would demolish her with his cold, merciless logic.
She paused in the kitchen long enough to catch her breath. “We’re home!” she called out as she heard his footsteps behind her.
“Mom!” Diego dashed into the kitchen. Marlena scurried in a few steps behind her brother.
“Goodness, you’re not in bed yet?” Valeria faked surprise. “I’ll get them to bed,” she told Cindy, the babysitter who had followed Diego and Marlena into the kitchen. “Gabriel, can you pay Cindy, please?”
“Yes, of course.” The frustration in his tone seeped through his trained equilibrium.
Good, she could put off the confrontation for several more minutes. It struck her as singularly ironic that she was using her children as an excuse to avoid a discussion with her husband.
“Mom, are you all right?” Diego asked as he snuggled down in bed.
She swallowed hard and stroked his dark head of hair. Diego looked so much like Gabriel had at his age. She blinked hard to hold back the tears. “Yes, I’m fine.”
“You’re not mad with Dad, are you?”
“Why should I be?”
“You don’t talk to him even though he’s here so much more.”
“He is?”
“He was at dinner this week, two times, and he put Marlena and me to bed those nights. And on Saturday, we built that castle in the backyard, from all those cardboard boxes, and we played knights and dragons all weekend.”
“It sounds like you had a good time.”
Diego nodded. “You’re not mad because he spent all his time playing with us instead of hanging out with you, are you?”
Valeria was grateful that the darkened room concealed the heated flush of her cheeks. She had been hiding from Gabriel. “No, I’m not mad with your father,” she lied. “Goodnight, Diego.” She leaned down to kiss his cheek and rose to leave the room.
She could hear movement downstairs. Was Gabriel pacing the hallway? Well, she would leave him to his own amusements. She went to her bedroom and shut the door. The crack of wood against the doorframe slapped through her awareness. It was the first time she had physically shut Gabriel out of her life.
If she was right, it was the first time of many such events to come. It was payback for all the times he had shut the study door on her.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror. A pale-faced, immaculately made-up woman looked back at her. Poise, she reflected ironically, could cover a multitude of shortcomings. Moving stiffly, Valeria plucked off her jewelry, including her wedding and tenth anniversary ring and set them on her jewelry tray next to her sink.
The bedroom door flung open. Gabriel’s reflection glowered at her in the mirror. “I’m not having an affair.” The words were issued in a low snarl.
She kept her back to him. It was easier to face his reflection than to face him. “What’s her name?”
&
nbsp; “I told you—”
“I’m not stupid, Gabriel. Don’t you dare treat me as if I am. I can smell her on you.”
“She kissed me.”
Her heart cracked. “Did you kiss her back?”
“No. Yes.” He shook his head. “I made a mistake. But that was it. It didn’t go beyond the one kiss.”
“What’s her name?” Her voice, thank God, was in better shape than her shattered heart.
“It doesn’t matter what her name is. She’s not responsible for this. I am.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. It was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”
“Has it happened before?”
“Never.” He closed the distance to her and clasped her upper arms. “Never, I swear it, Val.”
“You swear it?” She shrugged, a twisting motion that shook his hands off her. “What’s your word worth these days? How many promises have you broken in the past month just on showing up when you promised?”
He gritted his teeth. “I’m trying, Val.”
“Trying’s not good enough. Not anymore. Your word is worth nothing.” She snorted and turned her head away from him and his reflection. “I’m getting ready for bed. Get out of here.”
“This is my bedroom too.”
“Oh?” She shoved sarcasm into that single word to cover the hurt and pain lurking behind it. “Is the sofa bed in your study too cold and empty without whoever she is? You’ve had no trouble sleeping in it every night for the past several months.”