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‘Thanks, Gabe, this looks great.’ Her hair was coming loose and she gathered it up again, beginning the familiar twisting motion as she re-knotted it, before picking up her fork.
‘I have worked at Rafferty’s since I was legally allowed to get a job. Before that I spent every moment there.’ Her voice was wistful, filled with love.
Gabe pictured the iconic store, its large dome and art deco façade dominating the expensive London street on which it was situated. It was always busy, exuding wealth and glamour and style. Exciting and as restless as its patrons, prowling in search of the bag, the outfit, the décor that would make them unique, special. It was easy to see why she loved it.
But then his mind turned to the chateau, to the acres and acres of vines, the scent of lavender and the scarlet flash of poppies. The old grey building, covered in ivy. He loved the buzz of retail but had to admit that no shop, no matter how magical, could match his home. The look in her eyes, the note in her voice spoke of the same deep connection.
‘It’s your home,’ he said.
‘Yes!’ Polly pointed her fork at him. ‘That’s it. But only temporarily. It was made very clear to me that I could work there but it was never going to be mine. Grandfather even wanted me to study History of Art instead of business, not that I took any notice of him.’
So much dwelling on the past; if Gabe had done that he would still be in Provence, weeping in the graveyard. ‘But now look at you. In charge of the whole store.’
Polly took a bite of the omelette, her face thoughtful. ‘I told you I went away to find myself. The truth is I had no choice. Grandfather came to see me three months ago and told me he was signing Rafferty’s over to Raff.’ She laughed but there was no humour in the sound.
‘My ex had just got engaged and Grandfather was concerned for me, or so he said. He thought I was leaving it too late, “letting the good ones get away”.’ She swallowed. ‘He said it was for my own good—I should concentrate on marriage, have children before it’s too late.’
‘That was unkind.’
‘It hurt me.’ It obviously still did, her voice and her face full of pain. ‘So I left my job, my home and I went away to try and work out who I was without Rafferty’s. But then Raff walked away, for good this time, and I came back.’
She looked at Gabe, a gleam of speculation in her eyes. ‘I have to admit I was thrown when I got back to find you already in place. At first I thought Grandfather was trying to replace Raff, but now?’ She shook her head, once more dislodging the precarious knot of hair. ‘I wonder what kind of game he’s playing.’
‘Maybe, he just knows I’m good at my job.’
‘Oh, that will be part of it,’ she agreed. ‘But with Raff engaged I’ll bet there’s something else. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s played matchmaker. You’ve got to admit it’s convenient, working together, living together.’ Her voice trailed off.
‘And I thought it was an over-ambitious developer tunnelling under my building. Your grandfather must have some extraordinary powers.’
‘You have no idea,’ Polly said darkly. ‘He’s pretty unscrupulous.’ She shook her head. ‘He just can’t stop interfering.’
‘You are just speculating. Besides, what does it matter? He can play all he wants.’ Gabe made an effort to speak calmly but his heart was thudding so loudly he was surprised the kitchen wasn’t shaking. Marriage? Children? If Charles Rafferty was looking at Gabe to fulfil his dynastic dreams he had a long, long wait ahead. ‘We don’t have to join in. Not on his terms.’
Light, fun and short-lived. That was all he wanted, all he could cope with. Polly Rafferty was many impressive things but were light and fun part of her enticing package? She hid it well if so.
But getting under her skin was fun. He was pretty sure, by the way her gaze lingered on his mouth, by the sudden flush that highlighted her cheeks occasionally, that she hadn’t forgotten about that kiss.
And he certainly hadn’t—not for want of trying.
‘Of course we don’t.’ She sounded more like her usual self. ‘I’ve never allowed myself to follow the path Grandfather thinks suitable. I’m not going to start now he has finally retired. I’m still so tired, I’m probably imagining things. You’re not my type at all. Even Grandfather must see that.’
This was where a wise man would stay silent. ‘I’m not?’
The soft words caught her, echoing round and around her head.
‘Of course not, you’re an exercise-mad smoothie drinker who flirts inappropriately with half my staff.’ Polly tried to keep her voice light but she could feel inappropriate heat rushing to her cheeks, a sweet insistent ache pulsing in her chest, reverberating all the way down to the pit of her stomach. She didn’t want to look at him yet somehow she had turned, caught in his dark gaze. ‘Not to mention that we work together.’
