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She balled her hands as heat rushed through her and, shaken by this new evidence of her weakness, she dragged her gaze away.
‘I haven’t forgotten it yet. But from memory it shouldn’t take me long,’ she said quickly.Too quickly.
She could tell from the dark gleam in his blue eyes that he didn’t believe her. But then she couldn’t blame him for that. She didn’t believe herself. Suddenly she felt dizzy, the thought that this was her life now, for however long it took to get the acquisition over the line, making her head spin.
He stared at her for a long, level moment, considering her, weighing up his response. ‘Gets under your skin, doesn’t it?’ he said at last, breaking the taut silence. ‘That you still want me.’
A tiny, quivering flicker of heat skated down her spine and she felt her breathing wobble.
She gazed up at him, her throat impossibly dry, feeling the blueness of his eyes like a touch or a caress. He had a wonderful sense of touch...light, but precise. Sometimes before, when they’d been in the car or walking down the street, he would reach over and stroke the nape of her neck, and she would feel it all the way through, just as if she was melting...
Her cheeks were on fire, and she knew that her face must be red, but she would be damned if she was going to agree with him.
‘What gets under my skin stopped being your concern a long time ago, Gabriel, so I suggest we put that behind us,’ she said crisply. ‘After all, you’re paying me to work, and I wouldn’t want to waste your money. I know it’s all that matters to you.’
The air between them seemed to thicken and he stared at her, a muscle pulsing in his jaw, his gaze narrowing on hers in a way that made her breath stop in her throat. Finally, he gave one of those infinitesimally tiny shrugs that made a vortex of emotion rise and swell inside her.
‘What else is there?’
Dove blinked. There was no reason that statement should hurt as much as it did, but she couldn’t stop a shiver of misery seeping over her skin. And once again, it was as easy to hate him as it was tempting to hurl insults at his handsome head. But, reminding herself of her decision not to discuss the past, she changed the subject.
‘So, what happens next?’
She felt his gaze sweep over her.
‘We start developing strategy tomorrow, after breakfast. My people have already compiled a detailed history of Fairlight Holdings—the financials, customer base, et cetera, et cetera... There’s a paper copy in your suite. Get acquainted with it.’
She nodded, grateful for the reminder of why she was there. If she could just keep that fact at the front of her mind, and banish all the other stuff, then maybe she would get through this unscathed.
‘The rest of the afternoon is yours to do with as you wish.’ He paused, his blue gaze resting on her face. ‘And tonight it will be just the two of us dining.’
Just the two of us.
Heart pounding fiercely, she stared at him.
Dinner. Alone with Gabriel.
The words whispered inside her and she curled her fingers into the palms of her hands to steady herself, her mind shying away from an image of the two of them seated beneath a canopy of stars.
‘What do you mean, just the two of us?’ she said stiffly. ‘I thought your team was here.’
It was happening again—that feeling that she was watching things from outside her body, almost as if she was watching a movie with an actor and actress playing herself and Gabriel. She forced air into her lungs.
‘Then you thought wrong.’ He gave her a razor-edged smile. ‘They arrive tomorrow. So, like I said, it will just be the two of us tonight.’
Blood was pounding in her ears. ‘I’m really not very hungry.’
It was hard enough being here with him now. But she didn’t want to spend any more time with him than was necessary. She certainly didn’t want to spend an entire evening with him alone—not after what had happened in London. It would be too close to what they’d once had in the past, when eating together had often been foreplay.
‘Marco is a two-star Michelin chef. I’m sure he can conjure up something to tempt you.’
‘I’m sure he can—but I don’t want to eat dinner with you.’ She was shaking her head. Her voice was shaking too, with panic and anger, and she knew she was revealing too much—revealing things she should be trying to keep hidden. But she couldn’t seem to help herself.
For a moment Gabriel didn’t respond. He just stood there, with the sunshine pouring over his shoulders so that he looked like his celestial namesake. But then the warmth and the light faded and he took a step towards her, and instantly that shimmering thread between them she had been trying hard to ignore pulled tight.
‘I don’t care.’
His tone more than the words themselves made her flinch. It was so hard and unsympathetic and gut-wrenchingly remote that she felt as if he was talking to her from a script.
