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‘Thanks, Chris.’
Looking up from her laptop, Dove smiled as she took the cup from the lanky analyst. She liked Chris. He was polite, helpful, disciplined and focused. Like everyone on the Silva team he was good at his job. But, as in all well-run businesses, the staff took their lead from the top—and Gabriel was a remarkable boss.
Glancing over to where he was talking on the phone, at the edge of the room, his profile carving a pure gold line against the background of glittering blue, she felt her stomach knot. She had been working on the acquisition for five days now, but it had become obvious to her after less than five minutes why Gabriel Silva had achieved such stratospheric success.
He was not just smart, but also clear-minded. He made everything seem simple, at the same time acknowledging the shifts and fluctuations that would inevitably complicate the process. In the same way, he knew what he wanted from every member of his team.
Her cheeks felt warm.
One thing was clear. His staff didn’t need to be blackmailed into working for him. In fact, it was quite likely that they would have worked for him for free.
None of the seven women and five men sitting around the huge lacquered white table had a bad word to say about their boss and most of them had a lot of good—offering up stories, unprompted, of how Gabriel had supported and empowered them in some way.
And she believed them. Even to a critical observer like herself it was obvious that he encouraged his staff to be independent, self-motivated, and to take pride in what they did. And it worked. The entire team was as invested in this acquisition as he was.
All except her.
She hadn’t shared her confusion, but privately she was surprised by Gabriel’s determination to acquire Fairlight Holdings. It just didn’t seem to match the pattern of his other acquisitions. But then if she could understand what drove Gabriel Silva to behave as he did, she wouldn’t be sitting here...
‘So, are there any other updates?’ Gabriel was leaning forward now, over his laptop, typing something on the keyboard. He stepped back, his blue eyes scanning the room like a Roman emperor looking over the senate house.
She shifted in her seat so that she was shielded from his gaze by her neighbour.
‘No? Then let’s break for ten minutes.’
They all worked long hours, and sometimes at quiet points in the day she would notice him staring out to sea intently. At first, she’d thought he was just looking at the view. But there was always a tension in his body...almost as if he was looking for something. Something that wasn’t there or that was just beyond the horizon.
In those moments she caught a glimpse of the serious young man she’d met six years ago. But then the next moment she would look again and see a stranger. A beautiful, intense stranger. Someone she had loved but never really known.
But was that even possible? To love someone and yet not know anything about them?
Apparently so—because what had she really known about Gabriel aside from his name and the fact that he was a waiter?
They had talked cautiously at first, in the way that all couples did at the beginning of a relationship. But they’d been young, and the air had been warm and honeyed, and most of that long hot summer had been spent in bed. They’d touched, slept, watched TV and each other, lying there and listening to the sound of each other’s breathing.
And they’d had sex.
Teasing sex. Tender sex. Fierce sex, tearing at each other’s clothes. Sex that had left them both clinging to one another as if they were drowning.
Her pulse fluttered. And last night they would have had sex on the deck if Gabriel hadn’t stopped them.
Picking up her coffee with a hand that shook slightly, she took a sip. ‘Ouch!’ She jerked the cup away from her mouth. It was scalding hot.
‘Are you okay?’ Chris was leaning forward, his forehead creasing in concern.
‘It’s fine.’ She smiled reassuringly. ‘It’s my own fault. I normally add milk, but I forgot.’
As she pressed her finger against her top lip she felt a cool shiver shoot down her spine and, glancing up, felt her insides tighten. Gabriel was watching her, his body taut and still like a stalking leopard, his blue eyes fixed on her mouth. Her heart thudded hard as he lifted his gaze, and for a moment they stared at each other across the room. Then abruptly he turned away to talk to Carrie Naylor.
His glance had been brief—a few seconds at most—but it had felt as intimate and tangible as a caress.
Breath snarling in her throat, she stared at his back, wishing she could shut her eyes and shut him out. But she knew from the last four restless nights that it wouldn’t matter if she did. Asleep or awake, eyes open or shut, in daylight or darkness, she could always see Gabriel.
Even if she couldn’t touch him.
Her fingers twitched against the keys of her laptop and she slid her hands into her lap, pressing them between her knees as if she didn’t trust them.Because she didn’t.She was like an addict. She might have spent six years sober, but when Gabriel had kissed her in London she’d been no more able to stop at one kiss than an alcoholic could stop at one drink.
Keeping her gaze fixed on the screen, she thoughtagainabout what had happened that night they’d been alone on deck. It had been reckless. Stupid. Dangerous. And yet despite being all those things it had felt like coming home.
