by Mather, Anne
‘He must be sharper than I thought,’ he remarked, taking a drink of his beer. ‘Chalk one up to Mr Collins!’ Rachel shivered in spite of the heat of the bar. That’s not funny.’
‘It wasn’t meant to be funny.’ Gabriel turned towards her, his eyes disturbingly intent. ‘I’ve never denied it. And after the way I behaved yesterday I’m surprised you have any
doubts.’
Rachel stiffened. ‘So what Joe said was true? You do want to sleep with me?’
Gabriel put out his hand and wiped a smudge of moisture from her lip with his thumb. There’s no harm in wishing, is there?’ Rachel’s breathing quickened. ‘I don’t believe this.’
‘Why not?’ Gabriel’s lips twisted. ‘Because you can’t imagine us in bed together?’He made a small sound of regret. Obviously your imagination is not as vivid as mine.’ But it was, thought Rachel unhappily. And she could imagine them in bed together only too well. The unbelievable thing was that she should have thought of it, too. ‘I don’t think we should be having this conversation,’ she said at last, taking refuge in her drink. ‘What time did you say the electrician would arrive?’
‘Not yet.’ Gabriel’s tone was flat. ‘And, for the record, you don’t have to worry that I might act on my impulses. However crassly I behaved yesterday, I’m not in the habit of forcing my attentions on anyone.’
Rachel sighed. ‘You didn’t exactly have to force me,’ she admitted honestly. ‘But I was angry that you should think I do that all the time. I don’t. I—don’t know what came over me.’
‘I’d like to think it was the same thing that came over me,’ remarked Gabriel drily. ‘God, Rachel, you know I’m attracted to you. I haven’t made any secret of it.’
Rachel took another gulp of her gin and tonic. He’d been right, she thought unsteadily. She did need the lift it gave her. But she still found it hard to accept that Gabriel was sitting here beside her telling her he was attracted to her. Was she being totally naive? Was he really any different from Joe, no matter what he said?
I’ve shocked you,’ he said abruptly. ‘I seem to have the knack of saying the wrong thing. You’d think I’d learn after the fool I made of myself yesterday. But, dammit, Rachel, can you believe that I was jealous? Jealous of my own son?’
Rachel’s throat was dry. ‘I told you about Andrew,’ she protested. ‘I told you I never slept with him.’
‘But that doesn’t stop me speculating about what did happen between you,’ he retorted huskily. ‘I know my son—or at least I thought I did. I can’t believe he didn’t—didn’t—’ Try?’ suggested Rachel tightly, and Gabriel gave her a rueful look.
‘I guess so,’ he said, rolling his glass of beer between his palms. ‘Pathetic, isn’t it? You’d think at my age I’d know better.’ Rachel bent her head. ‘Age has nothing to do with it.’
;No?’Gabriel’s tone was ironic. ‘I wish I could believe that.’ He stared down into his glass, as if hoping to find an answer in its tawny depths. ‘I got the feeling yesterday that you never wanted to see me again.’
Rachel shrugged. ‘It probably would have been best.’
‘Why?’He gazed at her now, his eyes dark with an emotion she didn’t dare try to analyse. ‘Because I’m too old for you? Because of Andrew? What?’ ‘Because you are who you are!’ she exclaimed, aware that it was important that she didn’t hurt him. ‘You know what I mean.’ ‘Do I?’He was being deliberately obtuse, she was sure of it. ‘What do you think I want from you, Rachel?’ ‘I don’t know, do I?’
‘Sex, is that what you think?’ he persisted, and she glanced round a little apprehensively, half afraid that their conversation was audible to other people. But, thankfully, the bar was busy enough for what he’d said to go unnoticed in the general buzz of voices and she relaxed. ‘Do you honestly think I’m so desperate to get laid?’ he continued, causing the colour to deepen in her cheeks again. ‘Dammit, Rachel, I’m not a conceited man, but I’m fairly sure I could find a woman to—to have sex with if I wanted one.’ His lips twisted. ‘Money can be a great attraction.’
‘Not to me.’
‘No.’ He conceded the fact. ‘No, I got that message loud and clear.’
Good.’ Rachel pressed her knees together, uncomfortably aware ofthe pulse that was bearing between her legs. ‘I think we’d better go.’ ‘You haven’t finished your drink,’he pointed out flatly. ‘And I haven’t told you why I wanted to see you.’ Rachel quivered. ‘I thought you had.’
‘No.’ He finished his own beer and slid the empty glass across the bar. ‘But perhaps this isn’t the right time.’ He paused. ‘Will you have dinner with me?’
Rachel’s lips parted. ‘When?’
‘Tonight?’
‘I can’t tonight.’
Her refusal was automatic and, watching his expression, she was fairly sure he knew it. But he didn’t question her answer, merely considered a moment before saying, ‘Wednesday, then.’
‘Wednesday?’
Rachel licked her lips, aware that she had no real reason to refuse him, but Gabriel evidently felt some further explanation was necessary. ‘Yes. I can’t make it tomorrow,’ he replied, and she felt her stomach clench at the expectant look in his eyes. ‘I—I’m not sure.’
She was hesitating again and she didn’t honestly know why. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t want to go out with him, because she did. In spite of everything that had happened, in spite of her mother’s doubts and Joe Collins’ recriminations, she couldn’t find it in her heart to reject this man, no matter how crazy that was. ‘Rachel...’ His use of her name stroked like silk across her sensitive flesh and she trembled. ‘Rachel, please...’
‘Mr Webb?’
For a moment Rachel was too dazed to identify the source of the strange voice. But then she realised it had come from behind them. A middle-aged man dressed in a short-sleeved tee shirt and corded trousers was standing by Gabriel’s stool, and he took a deep breath before turning to give the man an acknowledging nod. That’s right.’
‘I’m George Travis, Mr Webb. I understand you were needing an electrician?’
‘Ah, yes.’ Gabriel slipped off his stool to confront the man. ‘Did Palmer tell you what was needed?’
‘He did.’ The man nodded. ‘But I’ve left the van parked across the road, so perhaps—Mrs Kershaw—could give me the keys to the cafe.’ ‘I’ll come with you,’ said Rachel at once, sliding her feet to the floor. She looked at Gabriel. ‘Urn—will you join us?’ ‘I don’t think so.’ Gabriel’s expression was closed now. ‘Good luck with the oven.’
Rachel hesitated, but short of embarrassing all of them she had no choice but to go with George Travis. Apart from anything else, she wanted to hear his opinion of the job Joe had turned down, but she couldn’t prevent herself from looking back over her shoulder as she followed the man out of the door.
Gabriel wasn’t looking at her, however. Her departure had brought the barman to see if there was anything else he wanted, and Rachel felt an unwilling sense of loss at the sight of Gabriel exchanging a few good-humoured words with the man. What was he saying? she wondered desperately. And when was she likely to see him again?
CHAPTER TEN
There were times in the days that followed that Rachel wished she had Gabriel’s phone number. Not to encourage him to reissue his invitation to dinner, she assured herself firmly, but simply to thank him for arranging for George Travis to examine the oven. The electrician had told her that there was little wrong with it that he couldn’t deal with. One of the elements was worn, he conceded, and would need replacing eventually, but it would last a few months yet. And the switch, which had been causing all the trouble, had been repaired there and then.
Rachel had hardly been able to believe it. The realisation that Joe had been lying to her for reasons of his own was bad enough, but to put her business in jeopardy in the process was unforgivable.
Of course, when she’d told her mother what had happened Mrs Redfern ha
d been predictably suspicious. Her opinion was that as George Travis worked for Gabriel he had probably been told to effect a repair, however temporary it might be. She wouldn’t listen when Rachel tried to tell her how unpleasantly Joe had behaved and she persisted in believing that her daughter had exaggerated the whole thing.
Rachel hadn’t argued with her for long. There’d been no point, not when her mother refused to even countenance the thought that Gabriel might have had Rachel’s best interests at heart. As far as Mrs Redfern was concerned he wasn’t to be trusted, and she took every opportunity to persuade Hannah that they were better off not seeing him again.
Then, on Thursday afternoon, just when Rachel had convinced herself that Gabriel had decided he was wasting his time with her, he phoned.
She was in the kitchen of the cafe at the time, loading dirty plates into the dishwasher, and Patsy came to the open doorway, stretching the cord of the phone behind her. ‘It’s for you,’ she said, and Rachel could tell from her expression that it wasn’t her mother. ‘It’s Mr Webb.’
Rachel nodded, incapable for a moment of making any rational response. Instead, she grabbed a tea towel from the nearby rack and hurriedly wiped her hands. ‘I can ask him to ring back.’ offered Patsy innocently, but Rachel only gave her a retiring look.
‘I’ll take it.’ she said, putting her hand out for the receiver. Then, with her hand over the mouthpiece, ‘Will you finish putting those dishes in the machine?’ Patsy looked put out. ‘It’s not my job.’ she protested.
‘Do you want to take it up with your union representative?’ asked Rachel shortly, and Patsy pulled a face. ‘I don’t have a union representative.’
‘And you don’t have exclusive rights to clearing tables either.’retorted her employer, moving past her. ‘Right?’
‘All right,’ muttered Patsy sulkily, and Rachel heaved a sigh before removing her palm and saying, This is Rachel.’into the receiver.
‘Hello, Rachel.’ said Gabriel mildly. ‘Did I ring at a bad time?’
‘You might say that.’ said Rachel, glancing back at her junior employee. ‘But I’m glad you’ve rung. I’ve wanted to thank you for what Mr Travis did, and to ask how much I owe
you.’
‘You don’t owe me anything.’ Gabriel replied, his tone crisping a little. ‘It was done in company time. The company will absorb it.’ ‘Well—thanks.’ Rachel was grateful. She hesitated. ‘Was that why you rang?’
To collect your thanks for the repair of your oven?’ Gabriel was sardonic. ‘Oh, right. It’s been on my mind.’
‘Don’t be sarcastic!’ Rachel spoke unthinkingly, and then grimaced, thankful that Stephanie had left early; she could imagine what her friend would have made of that. ‘I mean—it has been a few days since—since—since it happened.’
‘You can’t bring yourself to say since I’ve seen you, can you?’ he accused drily. ‘But at least you noticed. That’s something, I suppose.’ Rachel drew a breath. ‘Have—have you been busy?’
‘As a matter of fact, I’ve been away for a couple of days,’ he told her flatly. ‘I—well, Andrew had got himself into a situation he couldn’t deal with, and I—had to bail him out.’ Oh.’ Rachel swallowed. ‘Not-literally, I hope?’
‘No.’ Plainly Gabriel would prefer not to discuss it with her. ‘But I’m back now and I wondered if you’d had any second thoughts about having dinner with me.’ He paused. ‘As I said a few days ago, I would like to talk to you.’
Rachel wanted to say, About what? but she knew that would sound crass. And why not admit that she wanted to have dinner with him anyway? At least that way Hannah wouldn’t be involved.
‘When?’ she asked, her palm growing slippery where it gripped the phone. But what would she do if he kissed her again? she was wondering. Could she trust herself not to lose her head as she had before?
‘How about tomorrow night?’ he suggested, nothing in his tone to indicate that he was especially excited by the prospect. ‘I can either pick you up or meet you at Dalziel’s. We can have a drink in the bar before the meal.’
Rachel expelled her breath, hardly aware she’d been holding it. Dalziel’s was a country club, and its restaurant was probably the most exclusive in the area. Situated on the outskirts of town, it was a select leisure complex that had been built a few years ago. Membership of the sporting facilities which included golf and tennis and squash, was prohibitively expensive, but it was just the sort of place she’d associate with the Webbs.
‘You’re not changing your mind again?’
His voice had sharpened and Rachel realised she had been silent for far too long. ‘Um—Dalziel’s,’ she murmured doubtfully. ‘Isn’t that a bit—well, public?’ Now Gabriel was slow to answer her. ‘You’re ashamed to be seen with me, is that it?’ he asked, and she expelled another shaky breath. ‘Not at all.’
‘It sounds like it to me.’
‘Oh, all right.’ Rachel gave in. ‘What time shall I meet you there? Seven o’clock? Half-past?’ ‘Make it half-past,’ he essayed quietly. ‘And don’t worry, I’ll try not to embarrass you.’
He rang off before she could make any rejoinder and she stared at the dead handset with some frustration before putting it down. ‘Can I go now?’
Patsy’s defiant enquiry came too close on the heels of Gabriel’s cutting their conversation short for her not to have been eavesdropping from the kitchen, and Rachel gave her an impatient look.
‘Did you finish filling the dishwasher?’
‘And turned it on,’ agreed Patsy, taking off her apron. She paused. ‘Are you going out with him?’
Rachel was about to say that that was her business, but she didn’t want to fall out with the girl. ‘As if you didn’t know,’ she remarked drily, meeting Patsy’s indignant gaze with a knowing smile. ‘Dalziel’s. Have you ever been there?’
‘Me?’ Patsy squeaked. ‘You’ve got to be joking. Do you know how much it costs to be a member?’
‘I can guess.’ Rachel was resigned. ‘Oh, Lord, what am I going to wear?’
Patsy frowned, evidently taking her question seriously. ‘Something sexy,’ she said at last. The sort of gear that that new shop sells.’ ‘What new shop?’
‘Looking Good.’said Patsy at once, mentioning the name of a new designer outlet that had opened in the precinct. They’ve got some really gorgeous clothes in there.’ ‘For women a lot younger than me.’said Rachel flatly, remembering the scantily clad models she’d seen in the window. ‘I couldn’t wear that sort of thing.’ ‘Why not?’ Patsy regarded her critically. ‘If you were fat or overweight I might agree with you. But you could wear anything. Honestly.’ Rachel gave a small smile. ‘Flattery will get you everywhere.’
‘It’s not flattery.’ Patsy hesitated. ‘I’ll come with you, if you like. I know exactly what you need.’ Well...’
Of course, if you don’t want my help—’began Patsy huffily, and Rachel suppressed a groan. It seemed to be her afternoon for offending people, and she knew Patsy meant well. Okay.’she said, once again giving in, in spite of her misgivings. ‘If you want to hang on until closing time, I’ll be glad of your help.’
But as she drove herself to the country club the following evening Rachel had the uneasy feeling that instead of defying her mother and wearing it, she should have taken her advice and consigned the outfit Patsy had persuaded her to buy to the trash bin. It was much too young for her, and imagining what the other women at the restaurant would be wearing brought her out in a cold sweat.
Yet when she’d looked at her reflection in the mirror back home she’d been pleasantly surprised at how attractive she looked. The thin voile handkerchief top and scallop-hemmed skirt, patterned in shades of blue and green, looked both trendy and elegant. And, teamed with several gold chains and strappy sandals, it gave her a height and sophistication she’d never had before.
It wasn’t until she’d gone downstairs and faced her mother’s censure that she’d begun to have doubts, e
specially when even Hannah had regarded her with worried eyes. ‘You look—different, Mummy,’ she’d said, and it hadn’t been a compliment.
Now, a few hundred metres from her destination, Rachel was convinced she’d made a terrible mistake. But it was too late to turn back now. She would just have to go on and hope Gabriel didn’t get the wrong impression. But as she changed gear to turn into the gateway, and noticed how far up her thighs her skirt was riding, she didn’t hold out much hope.
She wondered where she was supposed to park her car, but before she could make any decision a uniformed attendant directed her to stop before the impressive entrance and then proceeded to explain that they would park the car for her. Of course, that was after she’d told him she was meeting Mr Gabriel Webb. They didn’t just let anyone enter the hallowed portals of Dalziel’s, she thought cynically.
Feeling terribly conspicuous, she wrapped the folds of her cashmere scarf more closely about her and mounted the steps to the foyer. Thankfully, it was a warm evening, and she hadn’t had to worry about what coat she should wear. And from what she could see of the other guests, her scarf—which, ironically enough, had been a Christmas gift from her mother—was perfectly acceptable. Well, adequate, anyway, she conceded, hoping desperately that Gabriel wasn’t going to keep her waiting.
Then she saw him. He was standing at the other side of the foyer, one of a group of more than half a dozen people, all of whom looked perfectly at ease with their surroundings. Most of the women were older than she was, she thought, and their smart suits or silk gowns looked so much more sophisticated than Rachel’s simple outfit. She shouldn’t have taken Patsy’s advice, she fretted. She should have worn something less revealing; something more mature.
Gabriel himself was wearing a pale grey three-piece suit over a dark blue shirt, the colours accentuating the deep tan of his skin. He had never looked more Italian than he did at that moment, she thought, more alien, yet at the same time more attractive. Looking at him across the width of the foyer, which was already floodlit despite the earliness of the evening, she knew a sense of disbelief at her own audacity for being there. And, had he not turned his head and seen her, she might well have taken fright and fled.