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He reached out and touched her hair lightly, his thumb brushing against her cheek. ‘And yet it feels like only yesterday.’
Heart clattering in her throat, she stared up at him, blindsided by that admission. The sudden roughness in his voice holding her captive just as surely as if he had grasped her wrists, the truth of his words acting like a brake on her anger and panic, so that suddenly her body was incapable of doing anything sensible or sane.
Like pushing his hand away.
Or turning and walking as fast as she could out of the room.
The air quivered, pressing in on them like a force field, and then, before she could chivvy her brain into some kind of response, he bent his head and covered her mouth with his own, just as he’d used to.
Just as if the last six years had never happened.
Just as if she was still his.
The air left her body. Everything stopped, and grew silent. All thought. All awareness. All the barriers she had created. All of it dissolved and there was only the melting heat of his mouth and their banked hunger for one another sweeping through her like the most potent drug.
Around her the room was spinning, blurring the walls into a smear of blue and gold, and instead of sunlight she could see a million stars. Her breath caught as his fingers slid around her waist to the indentation at the small of her back, his thumbs skimming her ribcage, burning her skin through the silk of her blouse. And then she was reaching for the hard, smooth muscles of his shoulders, pulling him closer, flickers of heat skating down her limbs as his lips found the hollow at the base of her throat.
She wanted him so badly she could hardly bear it. Wanted to pull off his clothes, then hers, and press her naked body against his. He must be feeling the same way. Her belly clenched as the tips of his fingers slid over the bare skin of her collarbone and—
A ripple of conversation swelled in the corridor outside and they broke apart as if stung. She stumbled backwards on her heels, gripping the edge of the table, heat pooling in her pelvis, heart running wild.
Gabriel was staring down at her, breathing unsteadily, his eyes blazing. It was some consolation to see that he looked as floored as she felt—but not much.
‘We shouldn’t have done that,’ she said hoarsely. She could hardly string the words into a sentence. Her brain felt dislocated, and she was struggling to pull herself together and catch up with what had just happened. ‘Anyone could have walked in.’
There was a tiny shift in the air and something crossed his face—a dark flicker of emotion she couldn’t place. And then he was back in control, straightening his cuffs, fixing his gaze on hers, narrowed and so intensely blue it felt like a high tide rushing over her.
‘We were lucky.’ His mouth curved into a vicious flick. ‘But don’t worry—I’m not planning on telling anyone. You won’t have to pay me to disappear again. Not that you could afford to.’
She stared at him dazedly. Coming so close on the heels of that brief, feverish moment of intimacy, the cool hostility in his voice was as shocking as if he’d slammed a door in her face.
‘We can’t do this. I can’t work for you—’
‘Too bad,’ he said flatly. ‘Life demands sacrifices, Dove. And not even you would be so selfish as to bring down the family business just to spare your ego.’
Her heartbeat was fluttering high in her throat.
But she hadn’t been selfish. She hadn’t done anything...
‘I am so sorry.’
Her head snapped round. Alistair was striding back into the war room, his face flushed with apology. ‘I thought I’d be gone five minutes at most.’
She watched Gabriel swing round to face him. ‘It’s perfectly all right, Alistair. Ms Cavendish has kept me thoroughly entertained. And what’s more she has agreed to manage the Fairlight acquisition for me. That is, of course, assuming you can spare her?’
‘I can, indeed.’ Alistair beamed at her proudly. ‘Dove is a very talented lawyer. I can guarantee that you will be impressed by the quality of her work and her dedication.’
‘I don’t doubt it.’
She felt something complicated happening to her breathing as Gabriel’s eyes locked on hers, cool, taunting, daring her to speak, to call his bluff.
‘I’ll get my people to sort out the paperwork, and we can start prepping on Monday.’
‘Wonderful.’
Alistair rubbed his hands together and, sensing his relief, Dove felt a rush of guilt. It wouldn’t be obvious to just anyone, but she could see the legacy of fine worry lines fanning out from his mild grey eyes.
Now, though, he was as excited and eager as a child on its birthday. ‘I hear the views from your offices are magnificent,’ he said to Gabriel.
