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CHAPTER ELEVEN
WHEN SHE RETURNED the following morning, she was smiling but distant again. As if she felt that their growing connection would compromise her ability to protect him. Clara was lost in the world of rules and procedures that she retreated to whenever she felt challenged by real life.
She followed him from one appointment to another, going through the now familiar routines that ensured his safety. And it went without saying that when Gabriel retreated to his study, there was no tap on his door, and no opportunity to talk on a more relaxed basis with her.
His days were, as always, hard work. He had patients to see, as well as his work at the charity. But the evenings were his own.
Gabriel started with dinner. Not alone and by candlelight, because Clara wouldn’t have accepted that. But having her go with him to one of his favourite restaurants in London, to meet with the representatives of another charity that was working with PTSD patients, was a surprisingly good second best.
The two-man security detail had been stationed away from their table, but Clara had been persuaded to sit by his side. Dressed plainly, in a failed attempt not to stand out from the crowd, she picked at her food, alert to what was going on around them. But from time to time the faintest of smiles told him that she was also following the conversation and Gabriel wondered what she might add from her own experience if given the chance.
* * *
During the next week, his diary filled up spectacularly fast. People who were expecting a short meeting at his office suddenly found themselves switched to a lunch or dinner, where they could really get to know each other and talk about the issues. Everyone was happy, the business of the moment was conducted satisfactorily and in convivial surroundings, and Gabriel paid the bill from his own pocket, so as not to make a dent in the charity’s modest entertainment budget. And he got to have Clara sitting by his side, instead of stationed outside a meeting room at the charity’s offices.
‘What do you think?’ he asked, as the car back to his home manoeuvred deftly through the evening traffic.
‘Me?’ Clara feigned surprise, but it was obvious that she must think something about a project that sought to make working paramedics’ lives a little safer.
‘Yes. You’ve done the job, I haven’t. You must think something. Or were you too busy watching everyone else in the room?’
‘I think...they’ve got a lot of great ideas, but they’re putting too much emphasis on reaction. How to get out of a dangerous situation, rather than avoiding it happening in the first place.’
Gabriel nodded. ‘Yes, that’s exactly what I was thinking. I don’t suppose you’d be able to help me with this one? Write down a few main points that I might include in my response to their proposal that we join forces and work together.’
Clara flushed. That was exactly what he wanted her to do, because it betrayed the fact that she actually had been interested in what had been said around the table tonight. ‘It’s... I didn’t really hear everything.’
‘Really? I thought you had eyes in the back of your head, and that you could comfortably listen to four conversations at once.’ He teased her a little.
‘I have my limitations. It’s only three conversations at once.’ She smirked at him, and Gabriel felt a tingle run down his spine. He slid a copy of the paperwork that he’d been given across the car seat towards her.
‘It’s all in here.’
Clara’s hand hovered over the folder, and then she shook her head. ‘I don’t think that’s appropriate. It’s been a while since I worked as a paramedic and... Another time, maybe.’
It was an excuse. That reprobate of a husband hadn’t just taken Clara’s ability to trust from her, he’d taken the job she’d loved as well. Gabriel wanted to protest, but Clara had made her decision and he had to respect that.
‘It’s okay if I ask again? Another time?’ Maybe he could at least keep that option open.
She smiled suddenly. ‘Yes. It’s okay if you ask again.’ They lapsed into silence for a while. ‘Do you get tired of this? The social round?’ She was looking out of the car window now, and the question came right out of the blue.
In truth? Yes, often. Gabriel’s habit of keeping himself busy so that he could sleep at night sometimes grated on him. When he’d been
at medical school, it had been his studies, and now he surrounded himself with people whenever he wasn’t working.
‘Sometimes. Why, are you tired of it already?’
‘No. If I wasn’t working I’d find it wonderful.’ Gabriel reckoned that this was about as close as Clara was going to get to saying she’d enjoyed herself. ‘I’m not sure I could keep it up for too long, though. I’ll be needing a rest soon.’
‘You haven’t forgotten about Italy, have you? That’s just over a week away and you’ll have four days’ rest then.’
‘Yes. Just enough time for me to get bored with securing your house while you’re away and start missing all of this.’
‘Ah, so you’ll miss me.’ Gabriel had been hoping she might. ‘I’ll miss you too.’
‘I didn’t say I was going to miss you.’ She shot him a smile. ‘I’ll miss being busy.’
It was a little too late for Clara to back-pedal now, they both knew what she’d meant. Gabriel thought about Clara when she wasn’t there too. So much so that the idea of calling one of his women friends and asking if she’d like to spend an evening with him hadn’t even occurred to him since he’d met Clara. Even if he had engineered the rendezvous to happen after she’d gone home, her scent would still have lingered. The thought of her. Gabriel put aside the disturbing idea that maybe he was losing his grip.
