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“Of course not.” Quincy holds out his hands. “Come here, big guy. Uncle Charlie is going to teach you how to play poker, and Uncle Quincy is going to teach you how to win.”
“Be careful on the road with the rain,” Rhett says, his expression worried.
“I’ll be fine. Thanks for Connor.”
“Don’t mention it.” Quincy winks. “Go on. Have fun.”
“There’s a bottle in the fridge if Connor gets hungry before I’m back. If he gets difficult, call me.”
“We know how to handle a baby.” Quincy balances Connor on his knee and shoos me away with one hand. “Off you go.”
“You guys are the best. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
“You’re making me all emotional now,” Rhett complains.
“Later, Charlie.” I blow him a kiss and leave before my nerves fail me.
On the drive to Gregor’s place, I contemplate the outcome. If he’s not Gabriel, he may not appreciate my approach, but I’m certain it’s him. I can’t help but feel sure of myself.
Gregor’s house is in a neat, raw-brick security complex. I have to sign in at the gate, and the guard has to call his unit for permission to let me through, which warns him of my arrival. Gregor may still refuse me, but after talking on the intercom system, the guard pushes a button that lifts the boom.
As I take the long driveway up to his house, the electronic gates open. I drive in and park in front of the garage. The front door opens before I’m out of the car. Gabriel––Gregor––stands in the frame, dressed in dark slacks and a fitted shirt. The sight of him takes my breath away. This new model of Gabriel has a shorter beard and hair, but the color is the same. His face is strikingly handsome, throwing me somewhat off kilter and adding the spark that fuels my doubt. Beneath the clothes, I can guess the lines that define his muscles.
His stance is casual, but his shoulders are tense. He watches my approach with a boredom that’s feigned, because his eyes miss nothing. They look at me in the way Gabriel first looked at me in Napoli’s and the way he did when he broke into my flat. Like that first time, he tears open my soul and looks right through me, but there is one difference. The roles are reversed. This time, I’m coming to him as the hunter, and he’s the vulnerable prey.
He doesn’t speak until I’m right in front of him. “Mrs. Louw.”
“Mr. Malan.”
His green eyes scrutinize me. The color is disconcerting, not the iced blue I’m looking for, but he’s wearing contact lenses.
“I think this is a mistake. Whatever you think my company––”
I climb onto the step, putting my body flush against his. “I’ll have a glass of water, please.”
The sharp intake of his breath is all I get before he backs away, giving me clear entry into his house. Prowling around, I take in his domain. The lounge, dining room, and kitchen are open-plan. The space is furnished with nothing but a reclining leather chair and a fridge.
He regards me from hooded eyes as he walks to the fridge and retrieves a bottle of mineral water. Taking a glass from the cupboard, he pours the water and hands it to me.
“Thank you.” I make sure our fingers brush when I take the glass.
His eyelashes flutter. “About your business––”
“So, you’re from Bloemfontein.”
His eyes narrow, and his lips twitch. He doesn’t like it when I defy him by interrupting and controlling the conversation, but he lets it slide.
“What else did you read about me?”
I take a sip of the water. “Everything I could find.”
For a second his gaze fixes on my lips as I drink, but then he drags it away.
“How about you, Mr. Malan? Did you read everything about me?”
“I didn’t have to.”
I take another sip. “How so?”
“You’re a known figure in this town.”
“I am?”
He walks around the island counter, stopping short of me. “You said you had business. I did my homework, too. Your specialty is high-risk investments. I didn’t see diamonds in your portfolio.”
I lift my left hand and show him my wedding ring. “I’d like to insure this. It’s very valuable to me.”
He stares at it. “I don’t deal in personal insurance. For that, you’ll have to call Auto and General.”
Leaving the glass on the counter, I place my palm on his chest and slide it down his rock-hard stomach to his even harder erection. When I cup his length, he remains motionless, regarding me with expressionless eyes, but his cock twitches in my hand.
“And for this?” I whisper. “Do I have to call someone else for this, too?”
His green eyes darken at my words, but he doesn’t take the bait.
Gently, he removes my hand and puts a step between us. “As there seems to be nothing I can help you with, I think it’s better that you leave.”
