by Robyn Grady
Nina spoke gently. “She didn’t think your father was good enough?”
“He couldn’t give her the fantasy life she wanted. So Darlene shifted in with Faith, who’d moved to the city. Darlene had her baby, then set out to find a real man.” He cocked his head. “My words, not hers, but you get my drift.”
Nina got his drift, all right. His mother had robbed Gabriel of the chance to get to know his dad and vice versa. On top of that she’d left him with an echo that reached from past to present, from father to son…
Not a real man.
Nina’s verbal darts all those years ago, insinuating he didn’t measure up, wouldn’t have helped. She’d been young and foolish. After that story she could only imagine how deeply her taunts must have cut.
“That search took my mother to all kinds of interesting places—including bars.” A muscle in his jaw flexed twice. “One night she didn’t come home. The police said she’d just run out on her responsibilities. I was four. When I was eight they charged a man with the rape and murder of three women in the district over the preceding four years.”
Her breath caught.
So his motherhadn’t abandoned her little son. Cold comfort, though, given the circumstances.
His palm lay on the deck. She covered it lightly with her own. “And your father found you years later?”
“I found him.” His hand flipped over to hold hers. “Gary Steele remained a bachelor and became extremely successful in advertising. Quite an irony as far as my mother’s ambitions were concerned.”
Nina shifted uneasily. Gabriel was almost gloating that his father had avoided what could have been a messy relationship with Darlene. But his mother had disappeared from her son’s life by the time Gabriel was four. Hadn’t he ever wondered about his father during that time?
“Why didn’t your aunt try to find your dad?”
“She sent a letter a while after my mother vanished but never got a reply. Gary said he’d moved from that address years before to live in the UK briefly and never received it. Faith believed, right or wrong, that she’d best leave good enough alone. I didn’t blame her. Not at all. She sacrificed a lot to make sure I had what I needed.”
“Is that why you’re so focused on success now?”
His chin tipped up. “Hmm?”
“To prove to the ghost of your mother,” she murmured, “that you’re areal man?”
He gave her a wily look. “Big leap.”
“Not really. My father was the same. He worked like a dog to prove himself tohis father.”
Her grandfather had been a tyrant, with beady eyes, a bushy beard and not a kind word for anyone other than his financial advisor and his bridge partner. Whenever the family had frequented his mausoleum of a house she and Jill had stayed glued to her father’s side. Anthony had said Grandad was Blackbeard come back to life, only meaner.
“My dad built on an already successful engineering empire,” she went on, “then spent every moment worried about holding it together.”
His thumb rubbed the back of her hand and his head angled. “What happened to the money?”
“After my father passed away my mother went through the lot like tap water.”
“Hate to speak ill of your mother, but I bet your dad’s rolling over in his grave.”
“Meredith always had a champagne taste. My father loved her extravagant nature and bought her way too much. Jewellery, cars, holidays at the best resorts around the world. She got used to over-the-top. Difference was, when my father was alive he’d been able to step on the brakes when need be.”
“Poor guy. Worked his entire life for nothing.”
“If he hadn’t worked so hard maybe he’d still be around. Stress is a killer.”
His pale eyes darkened as he leaned closer. “I vote no stress today.”
Nina’s skin flashed hot. The intent in his voice, in his eyes, said only one thing. He wanted to kiss her. Way more than kiss.
But, no matter how the air snapped and crackled whenever they were together, she’d made herself clear the other day. Sex was best kept out of the equation. Firstly, she was a distraction he didn’t need right now. Secondly, unfairly or not, he’d dismissed her from her job. Thirdly, if she got any more involved—if she fell any deeper—he’d most likely take her heart too.
She shucked back her shoulders. “I won’t play this game. I know what you’re thinking.”
“Tell me.”
He tipped nearer still and, heart beating fast, she tipped back. “I thought we’d put this behind us.”
His eyes smouldered. “Guess you thought wrong.”
As his gaze flicked over her lush parted lips, he slid a hand around her nape to bring her close. But she pulled back, and the first inkling of suspicion faded up in her eyes. She blinked rapidly, as if her mind was catching up with the evidence at hand.
“You planned this, somehow, didn’t you?” She snapped a glance at the sky, the sail. “I mean mooring here, when the breeze was set to run out.”
He pressed a sensual kiss to her bare shoulder. “Now, how could I do that?”
“Youknew I wouldn’t be able to escape.”
“Do you want to escape?”
She growled in her throat, but this time didn’t pull away. “You’re twisting things.”
He wound her arm around his neck.
“Organising this boat,” she said. “Sailing out here…All the time you were planning, saving this up—”
His mouth caressed the sensitive spot below her collarbone. “And I’m about to blow.”
She stiffened against him. A tense moment passed before the pressure building between them seemed to ignite, expand and then release. After letting out a longsuffering sigh, she trembled and finally furled her fingers up the back of his hair.
Sighing softly, she grazed her cheek against his. “Oh, Gabe, I’m about to blow too.”
He smiled to himself.
Score one for the weather man.
He lovingly nipped her chin. “What happened to putting this behind us?”
“What happened to no escape?”
He was about to kiss her the way he’d dreamed of kissing her these past drought-ridden days when something—or someone—seemed to tap him on the shoulder. When he tried to ignore it, the tap came again.
He swore to himself. What a time to get the guilts.
He held her arm and asked, in all earnestness, “Nina, I want to know if you have any real concerns about this…”
Her lips feathered over his. “I’ll let a real man kiss them away.’
When she pulled him down on top of her, he happily fell.
“Lord above, I’ve missed this,” he murmured, snatching kiss after kiss while her sexual hunger spiked and relapsed into that raw, lethal need. “I missed you so much.”
She ground herself up against him while her fingers dug into his biceps, and all thought but for him dropped away.
Drunk with passion, they rolled over on the blanket, one way then the other, their mouths locked as their hands sought out places that ached for attention. Her breasts burned to know the stiff, moist stroke of his tongue. Her sex throbbed to feel him deep inside her. When he ripped her bikini top off, the thrust of her desire for him hit like a nuclear blast.
His mouth on her throat, he dragged off her bikini bottoms. She yanked at his fitting trunks while her other hand fanned the warm rock of his chest. When more of his scent filled her lungs she felt almost too dizzy with longing to breathe.
He found her wet and hypersensitive. With one mighty arcing action he swept the plates of food well aside and then kissed her again, his tongue edging over hers, probing deeper, as if no matter how long or how hard they stayed connected he could never get enough.
She held him close, one knee measuring his side before his mouth left hers and his head lowered. When his lips suctioned around her nipple, drawing her deeply into his mouth, bright fountains of colour were released in her head. Her fingers knotted in
his hair and that leg coiled over his back.
As the fever took hold, and her arousal clamoured at the ceiling, she reached, trying to tug again at his trunks. He wrangled out of his wet shorts. A second later his pulsing erection pushed against her hip, then cooler air brushed her body as his heat drew away.
Dizzy with need, she opened her eyes. Craning up onto her elbows, she was ready to cry out—Don’t you dare leave me now.
But he was kneeling over her, his fists coming down either side of her shoulders. His eyes were stormy and his nostrils flared with the effort to take in enough air. Then he slowly lowered, to tease her, rubbing the head of his erection over her intimate folds, making her bloom and throb all the more. When she moved provocatively beneath him, teasing him back, his control snapped in two. He entered her more roughly than he’d intended, hitting a place that made her jump and rock her head to one side.
Concerned, he grabbed her shoulder. “Nina, are you all right?”
She wet her lips and sighed long and loud. “Do it again.”
A hot, lazy smile curved his lips before he filled her once more, and a jet of high-octane sparks showered up, setting every part of her alight. Nina was washed away on the climbing tide. The energy spiralled higher, condensed tighter, until the heart of her cried out for release. But another part of her wanted this ecstasy to last—wanted this fire to rage on and on and out of control.
When he sank into her again, the force of her orgasm ripped a cry from her lips. Pulsating energy contracted, then tore her apart, spraying sparks of pleasure through her blood. She was vaguely aware of his release too, of his fingers digging into her hip, of his chest rubbing high against hers as he shuddered and let his heat flow.
Curling her arms up over her head, Nina pressed against her lover’s hard, slick body, soaking up the peak of their magic. And exhausted moments later, when he lay beside her and pulled a corner of the blanket over them both, she knew she’d never felt more content.
She was never more herself than when Gabriel held her like this.
He was the perfect rogue. A fantastic lover. But anyone could fathom why he wasn’t after long-term. Why marriage wasscary.
Scars from his past. No belief in happily-ever-afters. He’d lived his whole life knowing his mother had put her ambition before her little son’s best interests. He’d deserved to know his father. He’d deserved a mother who hadn’t roamed around searching for her fantasy meal-ticket at night. No wonder he was cynical.
But Nina hoped he would discover real love one day. She could imagine him standing at the altar, wearing a crisp black suit, his tanned hands clasped before him, his smile serene. She could see the love in his eyes, the boundless commitment on his face and wished…a silly romantic’s wish.
Nina wished the bride was her.
Chapter Twelve
NINA enlisted the help of Julie LaFoy, the manager of the island’s many well-stocked boutiques, to help her with a dress for April’s wedding.
The gown she chose had been drastically discounted—at least that was what an excited Julie had said. The style blended “red carpet” with chic sarong. Coupled with a pair of elegant matching heels, Nina felt like an island princess. But no one outshone April on her big day.
April wore a traditional gown of white satin, with a sweeping fairytale veil. When she walked down the outdoor aisle, the groom’s face split into an adoring smile and one hundred guests audibly sighed. The ceremony was brief, but heartfelt, and when the bride threw her bouquet it sailed right towards Nina’s head. She ducked, and the woman behind her squealed on snaring the prize.
As the music went into party mode, and canapés were served, Gabriel took Nina’s hand and led her to the dance floor, which was set up beneath an open marquee. When Nina spotted Mr Dorset hovering around the fringes, making sure everything was in order, a shudder shot up her spine. But when Gabriel gathered her in his arms and held her eyes with his she forgot everything other than how her heart wouldn’t stop thumping. How much she loved being his date.
This time last week she would never have dreamed she’d be dancing with the most attractive man in Australia…Well, he was to her. His scent, his feel, the way his eyes spoke only to her…This might have been their wedding day. She might even believe that the intense depth of his look meant he was thinking the same.
If wishes came true…
With other couples joining them on the floor, Gabriel dance-stepped her smoothly around.
“Your gown is something else,” he said, in a low, appreciative voice.
A rush of pride made her glow. The gown was of softest tangerine silk, cinched high on the side of the waist with a diamanté clasp before falling in weightless folds to her ankles. “Feminine,” Julie had said. “Timeless…”
His hot fingertips skimmed up and down her back. “I like the colour. The cut. It looks exquisite on you.”
The warmth of her blush deepened. He’d told her three times already.
They’d danced for several moments, moving as one to the music, before he murmured near her ear, “I haven’t held you for hours.”
“Two, to be exact.”
“Two hours too long.” He grazed a seductive kiss over her brow and she quivered when his lips veered south.
She would never tire of his compliments. Not that this affair would last. In fact, as much as she loathed to admit it, the sooner “they” ended, the better. The way he looked at her—with a heart-pumping combination of protectiveness and desire—she was in danger of convincing herself she meant way more to him than she did. That kind of self-delusion could only pave a fast track to emotional suicide. She would not fall in love with someone who couldn’t commit and love her back.
She needed to accept this relationship for what it was: an abstract version of a holiday fling. Gabriel saw it that way. In his mind, he had his life and she had hers—or would again when she got off this island. When that would be depended on how he answered her question.
She wanted a chance to somehow validate her place here, in the staff’s eyes as well as in her own. She wanted her position here back. If she did a good enough job, surely Gabriel would be proud of her too.
Her cheek was resting on his lapel when an almighty crash exploded directly behind them. Heart in her throat, Nina spun around. A young waitress stood by the nearby cake table, hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. At the waitress’s feet lay a stack of broken plates. The top tier of the multi-layered wedding cake was splattered over the debris. Nina shuddered. She could just see Mr Dorset’s outraged face now.
She rushed over to help, automatically picking up broken crockery. She caught the stunned girl’s eye.
“Run and get a dustpan,” she said. “A bin and some paper towels.”
Nina hadn’t seen the girl before. Around eighteen, she must be new. She reminded Nina of herself her first week here. Uncertain. Wanting to do well. Failing before she’d been given half a chance. No doubt this woman had experience, but accidents happened, and Nina wasn’t prepared to stand back and let her get bawled out without standing beside her. She knew too well what it felt like to cop it alone.
The waitress rushed off at the same time as Gabriel knelt down. “Nina, you’re a guest here tonight.” His hand held hers. “Leave that. Cake’s getting on your gown.”
“It’ll be cleaned up twice as fast if I help.”
“There’s plenty of staff—”
She cut him off with a look. “I can’t stand back and watch.”
The waitress returned, and she and Nina dropped broken crockery into the mini-bin. Nina caught the waitress’s expression: her blue eyes were wet with gratitude. Nina smiled back and they picked up the pace.
April appeared, hands clasped beneath her crestfallen face. “My cake!”
Mr Dorset was behind her, his expression pinched. Knowing this was Gabriel Steele’s affair, he would be doubly ready to vent his wrath.
A puffed-up Dorset had opened his mouth, ready to come
down on the young waitress, but something fierce inside Nina leapt, and she stepped up to stand between them.
“I’m sorry, Mr Dorset,” she said, feeling braver and more vulnerable than she had in her life. “I knocked the table corner when I passed. I’ll pay for any damage.”
While Mr Dorset eyed her with obvious suspicion, Gabriel stepped forward too. “Everything’s fine here, Dorset. Thanks for your concern.”
And as he said the words three wait staff bee-lined it over…Maureen, Judy, and usually grave-faced Jim Olsen too.
“We’ll take care of this,” Maureen told Nina as she lowered herself down beside the younger waitress, and Jim produced a dust pan and brush from thin air.
Gabriel held April’s shoulders. “There’s plenty of cake left.” His voice was quiet. “I’ll make it up to you, hon—I promise.”
April looked between them both, then her brows opened up before she sighed on a forgiving smile. “The day has been so perfect. Something little had to go wrong.”
But Nina was too choked up to respond. Before she’d begun work here she wouldn’t have dreamed of intervening in a scene like this the way she had. But, no matter the consequences, she’d felt compelled to protect that young waitress in a way no one had stepped up to protect her. And yet Maureen, Judy, Jim…they knew what she’d done, and by their actions they were saying they approved. Tonight, in her finery, she should have felt more alienated than ever from the staff, yet for the first time since arriving on this island she didn’t feel like an outsider.
Mr Dorset answered April. “The bride’s only job today is to look beautiful. We’ll take care of this.”