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She felt hungry, too. Hungry in a way which was unfamiliar to her and she knew that this was the baby speaking to her. Finding herself unable to ignore the unfamiliar cravings of her body, she ordered a white bread sandwich stuffed with thick slices of cheese and smothered in a sharp and pungent brown chutney.
She fell on it with an instinctive greed which seemed beyond her control and that was how Gabe found her. He walked into the humble café, his face sombre and his dark golden hair so wet that it looked almost black. Raindrops were running down over the high slash of his cheekbones and for one crazy moment it looked almost as if he were crying.
But Gabe didn’t do tears, she reminded herself. Gabe didn’t do emotions because he didn’t feel. Gabe’s hurt and pain had made him immune from the stuff which afflicted normal human hearts, like hers.
He walked straight over to her and leant over the table. Holding on to the back of a chair, he seemed to be having difficulty controlling his breathing and it was a moment before he could ice out his incredulous question.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing, Leila?’
‘What does it look like I’m doing? I’m eating a cheese and pickle sandwich.’ She finished chewing a mouthful which now tasted like sawdust and stared at him. ‘Anyway, I thought you were in meetings.’
‘I cancelled them when I didn’t hear from you. I’ve been going out of my mind with worry.’
‘So Alice said.’
‘So Alice said,’ he repeated, and then his eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t you care?’
At this, she put the rest of the sandwich down on the plate but her hands were still trembling as she met the accusation in his eyes.
‘Don’t I care?’ She gave a short laugh. ‘I did. I cared very much. But I realise now how incredibly stupid I’ve been. I mean, how could I possibly think that ours was a marriage worth saving? You told me that our relationship was to be based on truth and you lied. A loveless marriage I could just about live with, but not lies, Gabe. Not lies.’
And with that, she pushed back her chair and ran out of the café.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE COOL RAIN hit Leila’s face as she met the fresh air, but Gabe was hot on her heels. She ran straight past the chauffeur-driven car which was obviously his, but he caught up with her before she’d reached the end of the street.
His hands on her elbows, he hauled her round to face him and held on to her tightly, even though she tried to struggle out of his grip.
‘You can’t run away,’ he said grimly.
‘I can do anything I like. And I want to be as far away from you as possible. So go away and leave me alone.’
‘I’m not going anywhere without you and I’m not having this discussion in the middle of the street in the pouring rain.’
‘Terrified it will ruin your ice-cool image?’ she mocked.
‘Terrified that you’ll catch a cold—especially in your present condition,’ he said. ‘You’re pregnant, Leila. Remember?’
‘Oh!’ She gave a howl of frustrated rage as she struggled again. ‘As if I could ever forget!’
But he was levering her gently towards the waiting car, and the chauffeur had leapt out to open the door. Gabe was easing her onto the back seat and Leila was appalled at how relieved she felt as warmth and luxury wrapped themselves round her body like a soft and comforting mantle.
That’s just the external stuff, she reminded herself bitterly. Money just makes things more comfortable. It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t make the hurt and betrayal go away.
She turned to face him as he slid onto the seat beside her. ‘I’m not going back to your apartment!’
‘We don’t have to do that,’ he said evenly. ‘Where would you like to go instead?’
And wasn’t that the saddest thing of all—that she couldn’t think of anywhere? The place she most wanted to be was in his heart, and there was no place for her there.
‘I don’t care,’ she said.
‘Then let’s just drive around for a while, shall we? And you can tell me what’s wrong.’
‘What’s wrong? What’s wrong?’ She hated the way he was talking to her as if she were aged a hundred and had forgotten where she lived. It was as much as she could do not to bang her fists frustratedly against his chest. And sudden all her hurt and pain and disappointment came bubbling out. ‘I’ll tell you what’s wrong! You told me that our marriage was to be based on truth. You told me you couldn’t promise me love, but you could promise me that. And I believed you.’ Tears sprang from her eyes and began to trickle down her cheeks. ‘I believed you even though I wanted the impossible from you. I wanted your love, but I was prepared to settle for the truth.’
