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“You keep running away from me. So if not now, when? Will I return to London to find that you’ve moved? Changed your number and disappeared?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m running away because I don’t want you. I don’t want this.”
“Liar,” he whispered gently.
“What the hell is going on? You’re old enough to be her father, Gael!”
Gael exhaled slowly. He hadn’t wanted to hurt Alexandra, though he’
d come to loathe her over the years. “Hardly,” he retorted with a small laugh. “Don’t you think you’re a little hypocritical to talk about age differences, in any event?”
Alexandra’s expression soured, as though she’d bitten down on the flesh of a lemon. “It’s never bothered you before.”
Carrie’s harsh intake of breath drew his attention squarely back to the woman he now realised he was completely in love with.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” She whispered, her eyes haunted. “You and she …” She squeezed her eyes shut to fight the nausea.
“No, Carrie.” He knew what she was thinking, and he had to relieve her of that burden. “You’re wrong. Nothing has ever happened between us.”
“But I saw you,” she whispered, her tone strange – high and breathy.
He frowned. “You can’t have ‘seen’ us, because there’s never been anything to see.”
“The morning after we … after the rose garden …” She was whispering now. “I saw you.”
He frowned. The event had passed into the insignificant recesses of his mind, but he recalled it now. Alexandra had been waiting for him. She’d claimed to have felt miserable because Diego’s condition was so poor, but then she’d said, “Why couldn’t I have met you first? A man like you, young and strong. You’d never get sick like this.”
Gael had shaken his head. “Age is no guarantee of good-health.”
“But you’re so fit. Your father is so weak. I’m scared, Gael.”
He’d nodded, and she’d pressed her body to his, seeking comfort. Then, she’d kissed him. He remembered now that, after feeling shock and confusion, he’d felt disgust. And he’d felt guilt, too, as though he was betraying Carrie. That had come to his mind first, before he’d even thought of guilt or concern for his father.
Over the years, her attention had persisted, but Gael had learned how to handle it. She was not stupid enough to push her hand. Not while Diego was alive. But now, evidently Alexandra considered it open slather.
Gael focussed his attention on Carrie, and the present moment. “You know me, Carrie. Do you really think I would pursue you, having been with your mother? Do you think I would sleep with my father’s wife?”
Her eyes were wide, her breathing laboured. “No,” she said finally. And the relief that came from admitting that was immense.
“How long has this been going on?” Alexandra demanded, her voice shrill as it whipped around the kitchen.
“Six years,” Gael said seriously, lifting a hand and cupping Carrie’s cheek. “I fell in love with you that night, Carrie. I just didn’t realise it until I saw you again.”
Carrie made a strangled sound of surprise. “No,” she shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”
“I know.” He ran his thumb over her cheek. “So let me show you.”
“You were disgusted by that kiss,” she said seriously.
“No, I was disgusted in myself,” he said, his tone urgent. “I was twenty nine, you were an innocent child, and believe me, Carrie, I had very not-innocent thoughts about you. What did that make me?” He shook his head in pained memory. He could see Carrie’s doubt. He understood it. “We need to discuss this elsewhere.”
“Yes.” She nodded awkwardly, her eyes flying to her mother. She’d forgotten Alexandra was there. “Maybe.” She frowned. “I don’t know.”
“You’re crazy if you think you’ll be able to keep his interest, Carrie,” Alexandra’s tone was laced with warning. “He’ll bore of you and then you’ll wish you’d listened to me.”
Carrie sighed. Her head was aching. She hadn’t slept enough and her mind was fried. “Perhaps.” She shrugged. “I have to get out of here now.”
She walked towards the door of the kitchen, holding an apple, a coffee, and a mountain of confusion.
