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‘Is that a good idea?’ When Clara walked back into the kitchen, Gabriel was splashing mixers into a glass.
‘No. Probably not.’ He took a sip of the concoction and wrinkled his nose. Clearly Gabriel’s theory that not measuring ingredients made each drink unique was holding true. It looked as if this one was sour enough to match both their moods.
Clara took the glass from his hand, sniffing it and then throwing the contents into the sink. Gabriel watched her calmly.
‘What’s this? You’re protecting me from myself now?’
‘If you were thinking of staying up drinking, then you need to find a better excuse than telling yourself you’re a liability to The Watchlight Trust.’
He shrugged. ‘By tomorrow, I won’t need to tell myself anything. I’ll have my father to do it for me.’
Clara rolled her eyes. ‘If he thinks you’re such a liability, why does he want you to take over DeMarco Pharmaceuticals?’
‘He thinks that DeMarco Pharmaceuticals is where I’m supposed to be. I’ll be able to donate large chunks of cash to The Watchlight Trust, and that’ll be a lot more use to them than I am. He might be right.’
‘Stop it, Gabriel. The Watchlight Trust wouldn’t even be there without you and Alistair, you created it. Taking a step back until this is all over might be a good idea, but it’s a reaction to one specific situation. If you feel you really must drink and brood, then I’ll be happy to mix the drinks for you, since you don’t seem to be able to get them right tonight.’
‘You’ll drink and brood with me?’
Getting drunk with him on their last night together was tempting. So was Gabriel’s sudden grin. But together those two ingredients had the potential for a whole world of mistakes.
‘No. I said I’d mix the drinks, not drink them.’
‘Ah. Not so enticing, then.’ He picked up the bottle and stowed it back into the kitchen cupboard. ‘I thought... I took it for granted that since I’m going to Italy for more than just a few days, you’d be coming with me.’
‘The team there have local knowledge and they’re much better placed to ensure your safety. It makes far more sense for me to stay here and work with Alistair.’
‘I suppose you’re right... Will you come with me anyway?’
Could things actually get any worse? Clara had just been forced into the realisation that she cared about Gabriel, and that it would be hard to leave him. Now he was suggesting that she pack her bags and follow him to Italy.
‘Gabriel, you don’t need me there. The team in Italy are excellent.’
‘I’m sure they are, but you’re the person I trust. If you feel able to come, of course...’
How many times did she have to tell him? It wasn’t a matter of what she wanted. ‘If you want me there, you should call the office.’
Gabriel shook his head. ‘I’m not going to do that because...we’ve shared some moments of a personal nature. I won’t pretend I wouldn’t enjoy your company, but this is strictly a business trip. I don’t want you to think it’s anything else and I’m not going to be the one who tells you whether or not to come with me.’
It was an almost impossible choice. Staying here would be the safest thing, but she couldn’t bear to leave Gabriel. Not now, when he’d been forced to abandon the thing that meant the most to him.
‘Okay.’ He seemed to know that she needed some time t
o think about this. ‘Decide what you want to do and then call your office and tell them that it’s at my specific request. I won’t be leaving before half past ten tomorrow, so if you’re coming make sure you get here by then. I’m going to bed now.’
He walked out of the kitchen. Clara stood, staring after him, long after he’d gone upstairs.
He trusted her. And he’d had the decency to let her know that he wasn’t asking her to go to Italy with the aim of engineering a fleeting affair. Clara knew that he must feel the chemistry between them as keenly as she did, but he respected her professionalism and wanted her as a friend. She would do well to take a leaf out of Gabriel’s book and treat him with the same kind of respect.
She sank down on one of the chairs at the kitchen table thinking hard, ignoring the fact that the night guard was probably downstairs watching all of this on the camera feed. At least it was a dumb show, and he hadn’t heard what Gabriel had said.
She had to make a decision, one way or the other. Molly returned, popping her head around the kitchen door to let Clara know that she was back, after taking Alistair home. The team here at the house was back to full strength and Clara could leave now.
Tearing a sheet of paper from the pad in her bag, she wrote a note for Gabriel, folding it in half and taping it to the coffee machine. Then she slipped out of the front door, and into the quiet night.
Don’t go without me. I’m coming to Italy.
CHAPTER TWELVE
