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“I know,” Carrie nodded gently.
“How long will you be on the island for? Perhaps we could have lunch tomorrow? I will cook paella.”
Carrie shook her head, on the brink of pointing out that they’d be back in Barcelona by then, when Gael surprised her. “Perhaps, Gabriella. We shall see.”
Carrie’s lips twisted into a quick frown, but she smothered it when Gabriella looked at her happily. “Excellent. You will love it, Carrie.” The word was accented on her lips. Rich and hearty sounding.
Gabriella was walked out by Gael, and Carrie left them to it. No doubt Gabriella would have something to say to her son about the surprise appearance of this woman in his life, and Carrie didn’t need to hear his awkward explanation. While Gabriella might have read wedding bells into the rare turn of events, Carrie knew better, and she wasn’t sure she could bear to hear Gael defuse those maternal expectations.
He wandered back into the kitchen a few moments later, an apologetic expression on his face. “I’m sorry about the intrusion. My mother means well, but she does not always understand boundaries.”
Carrie shook her head. “It’s fine. I enjoyed meeting her. She’s lovely.”
“You’re not upset? You seem…?”
“No, I’m fine.” But something was lodged in her throat. It felt like panic. “Um, what time will we leave? To get back to the mainland?”
His smile was beautiful. And if she weren’t itching to be back in her hotel, she would have found it irresistibly sexy. “I thought we could stay here tonight. I have a special surprise planned.”
“Another one?” She joked lightly, her heart racing at the idea of not getting back to her own things. Valiantly, she searched her mind, seeking an excuse, and finding nothing.
“The best one,” he promised, kissing her forehead.
“The thing is, Gael…”
“What is ‘the thing’, Carrie?” He asked in a lightly mocking tone, trying –and failing – to keep his impatience at bay.
“I just … I didn’t know we would be staying tonight. So I don’t have any of my things. And I really need …”
“What do you need, princesa?”
“Everything! Clothes, my computer, just … stuff.”
He pressed a finger beneath her chin, so that he could stare into her eyes. “No, you need nothing. Your clothes can be washed here, I have a computer you may use to log into your emails.”
But she couldn’t stay here with him! Not without her stuff. Her make up and straightener and perfume and stuff! She felt like she was suffocating; she shook her head from side to side. “That’s a lovely idea,” she said, striving for calm, and knowing she came off as ungrateful. “But I really would prefer to go back now.”
Gael frowned. Confusion mingled with frustration. “What do you need? I can send someone out to buy it.”
“No.” The idea of troubling a servant so that she could have her full array of Estee Lauder cosmetics was wrong. Even she knew how superficial it would seem. “It’s … It’s stupid,” she said quietly.
“Come on, Carrie. Aren’t we beyond this kind of coyness? Tell me the truth. What do you need?”
“I just …” She closed her eyes. Was there really so much wrong with wanting to look her best? Her mother would never have had to explain herself to a man; it would have simply been presumed that she needed time and equipment to maintain the visage of feminine perfection. Carrie’s eyes glinted in her face. “Fine. I would feel disgusting without my makeup and fresh clothes and hair dryer. Okay? I don’t want you to see me like that.”
Gael’s eyes hardened with shock, surprise, and then sadness, as the fear that had been lurking the back of his mind was confirmed.
“Like what?”
“Looking like me,” she snapped. “That’s not who I am.”
“This is not who you are,” he corrected, drawing an imaginary circle around her face. “All this dolly make up. You don’t need it.”
“Oh, whatever,” she groaned with a roll of her big blue eyes. “This is the woman you took to bed before you even knew her name, so don’t act like you’re offended by my appearance now.”
“No,” he grunted. “You always look fine. But you don’t need make up. Not all the time. And not with me.”
Carrie stiffened her spine. “It’s not your place to tell me what I need. I hardly know you.”
