by Mather, Anne
But he did turn his head, and, meeting his eyes, she was instantly incapable of moving from the spot. Even with more than a dozen people milling between them, she was aware that, however she looked to anyone else, she had found favour in his eyes. The warmth of his approval reached her, surrounded her, left her feeling out of breath and vulnerable.
With an ease she could only admire, he quickly detached himself from the group and strode towards her. He moved with a lithe unconscious grace that attracted more than her attention, and, looking beyond him for a moment, she saw that his departure, and the reason for it, had not gone unnoticed.
‘Hi,’ he said, reaching her, and Rachel knew a quite outrageous desire to reach up and cover his smiling sensuous mouth with her lips.
That would certainly give his friends something to gossip about, she thought defiantly, but she couldn’t do it. ‘Hello,’ she responded instead. ‘Have I kept you waiting long?’ ‘Dare I say you were worth waiting for?’ he asked, taking one of her hands and raising it to his lips. She felt the heated brush of his tongue against her palm and her gaze flew to his, but his eyes were enigmatic. Then, keeping her hand imprisoned in his, he said, ‘You look beautiful. I’m very flattered.’ Rachel swallowed. ‘Flattered?1
That you should go to this trouble just for me,’ he told her drily. ‘Come. Ill introduce you to the president of the club.’
‘Oh—no.’ Rachel hung back when he would have drawn her across the lamplit foyer. ‘I mean—it’s not as if—well, I wouldn’t like your friends to get the wrong impression.’ The wrong impression?’ Gabriel’s broad shoulders blocked her view of the group of people he had been heading towards. ‘How?’ Oh, you know.’ Rachel pulled her hand away and twisted her fingers together. ‘What are those people going to think?’
That I’m a very lucky man?’ suggested Gabriel, swaying back on his heels. ‘Are you saying you’d rather not be introduced as my—companion?’
‘No!’ Rachel gazed up at him and then wished she hadn’t when she saw the sudden emotion darken his eyes. With a dry mouth she added, ‘Oh, Gabriel, I shouldn’t be here.’ His mouth twitched. ‘Well, at least it got you to use my name,’ he remarked softly. ‘Come on, Rachel. Tell me how you really feel. Do you wish you hadn’t come?’ ‘I—didn’t say that.’ Rachel sighed and then, giving in to a totally uncharacteristic burst of vanity, she whispered, ‘Do I really look all right? Patsy helped me choose this outfit and—well, I’m sure it’s too young for me.’ ‘It’s not.’ Gabriel was terse. ‘My mother thinks it is.’
‘Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?’ Gabriel blew out a breath. ‘You’re going out with me, aren’t you? That hardly warrants her approval.’ ‘No, well—’ Rachel realised this was the moment she had to confess. That’s because she thinks you were the reason Andrew and I split up.’ ‘Me?’ He stared at her uncomprehendingly.
‘Yes.’ Rachel was flushed. ‘Oh—if you must know, I was too ashamed to tell her what Andrew had said, so I pretended you had broken us up. Because I wasn’t good enough for
him.’
Gabriel didn’t speak for a few seconds. ‘God,’he said at last. ‘No wonder she doesn’t like me. Don’t you think you should tell her the truth?’
‘I will. Soon.’ Rachel shook her head. ‘Do you forgive me? I know it seems pretty’ pitiful now, but it seemed a good idea at the time.’
‘Well, I think we should go and get a drink,’said Gabriel drily. ‘And, by the way, you do look beautiful. Does that go some way to answering your question?’
Rachel’s lips parted, but before she could say anything else Gabriel moved aside and she saw to her relief that the others had disappeared. Probably into the bar, too, she thought uneasily, but she didn’t object when Gabriel put his hand in the small of her back and guided her into the reception area.
The bar’s this way,’ he directed, and Rachel went with him almost automatically. But she wondered if he was as aware of his fingers against her bare flesh as she was. Unfortunately the cashmere scarf didn’t cover much more than her shoulders, and the string ties of her top were no barrier to her smooth skin.
The bar was discreetly lit and intimate, small tables flanked by plush armchairs set on an equally plush carpet. An army of white-coated waiters attended to the needs of its exclusive clientele, and after they were seated Rachel agreed to a glass of white wine before looking nervously about her.
‘Relax,’ advised Gabriel, loosening the buttons on his jacket and leaning forward, his forearms along his thighs. ‘If anyone’s under scrutiny here, it’s me.’ Rachel permitted herself to look at him. ‘Because of me?’
‘Indirectly.’ Gabriel was ironic. They probably think you’re the reason I collapsed at my desk.’
Rachel felt her lips tilt upward. ‘You don’t mean that,’she said, but she could feel herself relaxing anyway. She glanced round again. ‘Do you come here a lot?’ ‘Now there’s an original line.’He grinned. ‘I wish I’d thought of it.’
Rachel found herself smiling at him. And, because it would be so easy to delude herself into thinking that he really was attracted to her, she hurried into the reason why she was there. ‘You—said you wanted to talk to me. About what?’
‘I’ll get to it,’ he said, and then was forced to sit back when the waiter arrived with a Scotch and soda for him and the white wine she had requested for her. He lifted his glass, regarding her over the rim. ‘Okay?’
Rachel made a dismissive movement with her shoulders, but she obediently lifted her glass and took a sip of her wine. It was good. Smooth and fruity, with just a taste of dryness, it slid effortlessly down her throat and she thought she could get used to this. After all, he had invited her here, and why shouldn’t she enjoy it?
Because it was out of her league, the voice of her conscience reminded her sharply. She shouldn’t run away with the idea that she belonged here. Without Gabriel, she wouldn’t even have gained entry.
‘Mr Webb?’
A waiter was standing diffidently at his elbow and Gabriel looked up in surprise. ‘Yes?’
There’s a phone call for you, sir,’the waiter told him. ‘Will you take it in the office or shall I bring the phone to your table?’ Gabriel frowned, glancing ruefully at Rachel. ‘Do you mind?’He paused. ‘If I leave you for a few moments, I mean?’ ‘I—no.’ She did, but she doubted her opinion would make any difference. ‘Right.’ Gabriel pushed back his chair and got to his feet. ‘I won’t be long.’
He followed the waiter out of the bar and Rachel was immediately conscious of how isolated she felt. Maybe it would have been better if they’d been sitting with other people, she thought. As it was, she was painfully aware of the fact that she knew no one else here. ‘Has he abandoned you?’
The voice startled her. She had been playing with the stem of her glass, her eyes glued to the table in an attempt to dissociate herself from her surroundings. But now she looked up in surprise to find a slim dark-haired woman standing beside the table. Rachel guessed she was only a few years older than herself, but her poise and elegance gave her a maturity that Rachel could only envy.
‘Urn—there was a phone call,’ she said, and the young woman dropped gracefully into Gabriel’s seat.
‘You don’t mind?’ she murmured, but it was a rhetorical question. She held out her hand. ‘I’m Louise Paterson. And you are...?’
‘Rachel Kershaw,’ answered Rachel, shaking Louise’s hand. ‘How do you do?’
Oh, I do reasonably well,’ replied Louise easily. ‘I haven’t seen you here before, Miss Kershaw.’
‘It’s Mrs Kershaw,’ said Rachel automatically. Then, because she wanted there to be no speculation, ‘I’m a widow. But, please, call me Rachel. And, no, I haven’t been here before.’
‘Well, I must say we’re all grateful to you,’ remarked Louise surprisingly.’ Gabe’s been such an unsociable creature recently. We were beginning to think that nothing would shake him out of his shell.’
Rachel wished she
didn’t embarrass so easily. ‘I’m sure you’re exaggerating,’ she said, taking a reassuring sip of her wine. ‘Urn—are you a friend of—of Gabriel’s, Miss Paterson?’
‘We both are. My husband and myself,’ said Louise, subtly asserting her status. ‘Are you involved in the pharmaceutical industry, too, Rachel?’
‘She doesn’t work for me, if that’s what you’re trying to find out, Louise,’ said Gabriel drily, and Rachel looked up at him, the relief evident in her face. She hadn’t been aware of his approach and her breath caught in her throat when he casually eased his thigh onto the arm of her chair. ‘I gather you’ve introduced yourselves?’
‘Well, as you’ve been so selfish, keeping her to yourself, I had to do something, darling,’ declared Louise, not a bit perturbed at being caught out. Her lids narrowed in knowing speculation. ‘Am I intruding?’
‘Would I tell you if you were?’ Despite the fact that Rachel thought his features were a little more drawn now than they’d been before he’d gone to take the call, Gabriel was perfectly adept at this verbal fencing. ‘Where’s John? Or shouldn’t I ask?’
Oh, he’s networking, as usual,’ exclaimed Louise carelessly. She glanced across the room. ‘Why don’t you and— Rachel—come and join us?’
‘Because, as you said, I want to keep her to myself,’ replied Gabriel, his hand curving possessively over Rachel’s nape. ‘Maybe some other time, hmm?’
Rachel’s pulse quickened, and it wasn’t just because of his hand resting warmly against the back of her neck. Did he mean it? Did he want there to be another time? Did she?
Oh, well...’ Louise hid her disappointment behind a mask of mockery. ‘I can’t remember the last time John said something like that to me.’
That’s probably because you never have time to listen,’ remarked Gabriel shrewdly, and she grimaced.
‘You men! You always stick together.’ And then, realising that someone else had come to join them, ‘Oh, there you are, darling. I was just telling Gabriel and his—friend—how you neglect me.’
A much older man stood looking down at them and Rachel realised that this must be Louise’s husband. ‘Don’t you believe it,’ he protested heartily. ‘She’s got me completely under her thumb.’
Gabriel got to his feet to shake the other man’s hand. ‘Good to see you again, John,’ he said politely. ‘You’re looking well.’
‘I wish I could say the same for you,’ replied John Paterson rather tactlessly. ‘I suppose this is the elusive Mrs Kershaw? I’d heard that you and she have been seeing one another. How do you do, Mrs Kershaw? I hope my wife hasn’t been making a nuisance of herself.’
‘No more than usual,’ said Louise in a clipped voice, standing up to tuck her hand through her husband’s arm. ‘Come along, darling. Gabe and Rachel want to be alone.’ She arched a mocking brow at Gabriel. ‘He said so.’
‘Oh, well...’
John Paterson huffed, but although Rachel half expected Gabriel to retract what he’d said, he didn’t. Instead he offered them both a smile and then, as they moved away, dropped gratefully down into the seat opposite.
‘Sorry about that,’ he said, glancing briefly over his shoulder. ‘Louise didn’t upset you, did she?’
‘No.’ Rachel was eager to reassure him, as aware of his pallor as John Paterson had been. ‘She was very nice, actually.’ She paused. ‘Is everything all right?’ Gabriel frowned. ‘What? Oh—you mean the call. Yes. Yes, everything’s fine. Can I order you another drink?’
Rachel refused, sure that everything was not fine, but not confident enough to demand that he share whatever he was concerned about with her. And the arrival of the waiter with their dinner menus halted any further conversation for a while.
The smoked salmon pate is good,’ Gabriel offered at last, and Rachel gave him a nervous smile. ‘Is it? Is that what you’re having?’
‘No.’ Gabriel frowned. ‘I think I’ll just have salad and a steak.’
Then I’ll have that, too,’ declared Rachel, putting the menu aside. ‘Um—have you known the Patersons long?’ ‘Because he’s more my age than yours?’ Gabriel suggested wryly, and she gave an impatient shake of her head.
‘He’s much older than you,’ she protested. ‘Besides, what does that matter?’ ‘You tell me.’
Gabriel shrugged and emptied his glass just as the waiter returned to take their order. ‘You can go through whenever you’re ready, Mr Webb,’ he said, retrieving the menus. ‘I’ll send the wine waiter to your table.’
Their table was in the window of the restaurant, overlooking the impressive sweep of the eighteenth tee. It was a beautiful golf course, mused Rachel, the lake she could just see in the fading light and the many trees giving it the ambience of a country park.
‘What a lovely view,’ she said, hoping to divert Gabriel from whatever was troubling him, and he glanced out of the window briefly before nodding. ;I suppose it is,’he agreed, scanning the wine list. Tell me, do you prefer red or white wine?’
‘Whatever you like,’ said Rachel, sure he must know she was no connoisseur. ‘Whenever we have wine, Hannah usually chooses it.’
‘Hannah.’ Gabriel said her daughter’s name slowly, as if she’d reminded him of why they were here, and, after giving the wine waiter his instructions, he leaned back in his seat and regarded her thoughtfully. Tell me, how long is it since Hannah had a psychological evaluation?’ Rachel frowned. ‘Why do you want to know that?’ Gabriel shrugged. ‘Humour me.’
‘Well...’ Rachel considered. ‘I don’t remember her ever seeing a psychologist.’ ‘Never?’
‘No.’ Rachel was beginning to feel apprehensive. ‘She was only three when the accident happened, you know.’ ‘I know that—’ Gabriel broke off for a moment. ‘But after what happened on Sunday...’
Rachel pressed her lips together. ‘I knew you were going to say that,’ she said tensely. ‘Is that why you really brought me here? So you could exercise your amateur psychology on me?’
Gabriel scowled. ‘You know better than that.’ ‘Do I?’
‘You should.’ His mouth tightened. ‘And if you’d rather not talk about it, then—’
Talk about it? Rachel exclaimed. Talk about what? The fact that for a few short seconds you got her to stand on her own feet? I don’t want to burst your bubble, but I’ve noticed her moving her legs when she’s in the bath. As Dr Williams says, it’s only a matter of time before she realises she can walk.’ Gabriel expelled a weary breath. ‘If you say so.’
‘Well, do you know better?’ she demanded. And when he didn’t answer her she, too, sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I know you mean well, but—oh, I suppose it’s a sore topic after—after—’ ‘After what I said last weekend?’ he suggested ruefully. ‘Look, it’s obvious this is neither the time nor the place to discuss your daughter. I suggest we enjoy our dinner and stop
stressing about something that obviously upsets you.’
Rachel wanted to say that it didn’t upset her, but she doubted he’d believe her. Yet it was true. She didn’t object to him talking about Hannah. She’d got over that. It was just that
for years she’d prayed, without any success, that Hannah would regain the use of her legs, and she didn’t think she could bear to have her hopes resurrected, only to have them dashed again.
The meal was delicious. The bread was warm and crusty, the salad was crisp, and the steaks were grilled to perfection. Unfortunately, Rachel couldn’t do the meal justice, and she found herself drinking more of the wine than she should. But the waiter kept filling her glass and the rich burgundy was giving her a confidence she’d never felt before. Tell me something,’ Gabriel said, after their plates had been taken away. ‘Do you think I brought you here to meet the Patersons?’
Rachel was taken aback. ‘Why would I think that?’
‘Why not?’ Gabriel was watching her closely. The older man and his much younger wife.’
Oh, Gabriel!’ This time it was she who reached across
the table to capture his hand. ‘I don’t care about anyone else.’ Gabriel turned his hand so that their fingers were linked together. ‘What does that mean? Are you saying you care about me?’ Rachel’s tongue clove to the roof of her mouth. ‘I—of course I care about you. I care about a lot of people.’ That wasn’t what I meant and you know it.’
She moved her head restlessly from side to side. ‘You shouldn’t ask me that.’
‘Not even if I tell you that I care about you?’His eyes darkened. ‘More than I should; I know that.’
Rachel didn’t know what to say. ‘Is—is that possible?’ she asked foolishly, and then realised she was treading deeper and deeper into a veritable minefield of emotion. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
That depends on you,’ he said now, and then bit off a curse when the waiter reappeared to ask if they would like coffee or pudding. Ignoring the man, he added harshly, ‘We could have coffee at my house, if you like.’
‘At your house?’ Once again Rachel spoke almost involuntarily. ‘But I can’t. My car—’
‘I don’t think you should drive home,’ declared Gabriel at once, and she wondered briefly if he had had this in mind all along. But when his eyes were pleading with her it was hard to think rationally. ‘You’re not used to drinking so much wine,’ he continued persuasively. ‘Please. I’ll have my chauffeur collect your car and drive you home again afterwards.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
After what? wondered Rachel apprehensively, as they drove up the drive towards Gabriel’s house.
Even the house looked different in moonlight. Although there were lights gleaming from many of the windows, it seemed bigger, darker, and wholly intimidating. ‘Your mother?’ she ventured before panic overtook her, as the chauffeur swung the Mercedes round in a semi-circle before the door, and Gabriel sighed. ‘She’s not here,’he said flatly, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. ‘Does it matter?’