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GABRIEL HAD BEEN silent for the rest of the drive back to his house. When they drew up outside the three-storey town house, situated in one of London’s most exclusive Georgian terraces, Gabriel moved to get out of the car, and Clara stopped him, laying her hand on his arm.
‘I’d like you to stay here for a moment while Ian and the other members of my team check the house.’ She indicated the car parked across the street, containing four more security officers. ‘Is that okay?’
She felt the muscles of his arm flex under her fingers as his hand clenched into a fist. Then Gabriel puffed out a breath, reaching for his keys and handing them to Ian. ‘All right. When we do get inside you’ll have some questions to answer...’
Clara knew that. Ian flashed her the briefest of looks, which said that he wouldn’t want to be in her shoes, and got out of the car.
Her team knew what they were doing, and they didn’t have to wait long before an all-clear was signalled to Clara. Gabriel was stony-faced as she accompanied him up the front steps and through the panelled front door into a large, bright hallway.
‘You’ll join me for a cup of tea.’ That didn’t sound like an invitation but an order. Clara followed him through to the kitchen.
The room was obviously designed with some serious cooking in mind. A large double hob with pans of all shapes and sizes hanging to one side, all of them well used. An array of herbs and spices was contained in a rack full of jars, and a wine cooler was well stocked with bottles. At the far end, a breakfast table stood in a semi-circular bay and Gabriel strode towards it, drawing the blinds against the sunlight that streamed in through the French doors. Turning to inspect the supermarket bag that her team had left on the counter, he raised an eyebrow.
‘What’s this?’
‘Since we don’t know where the flunitrazepam came from, it’s wise to view your existing food stocks as suspect for the time being.’
He shook his head, taking teabags and milk from the bag and making the tea. When he put the two mugs on the table, sitting down opposite her, she found herself shivering in the heat of his dark gaze.
‘There’s one thing I want to get straight.’
‘Of course.’
‘You’re managing me. You’re very good at it, and I appreciate that you might find it necessary in a lot of the situations that you encounter, but I want you to stop.’
Cl
ara swallowed hard. His file hadn’t prepared her for this. Gabriel DeMarco was the son of a man who was so rich that most people couldn’t get their heads around the scale of his wealth. Gabriel ran a medical charity, which no doubt gave him the sense that he was doing something useful, and the rest of the time he did what he pleased. He was undoubtedly charming, and the file had hinted that he used his not inconsiderable talent for seduction on a regular basis. Nothing...nothing had prepared her for his incisive mind and his determination.
But she could adapt. ‘Yes, I am managing you. This is a...sensitive situation.’
‘I understand that. But if we’re to have any kind of relationship, I want all the facts. Even the ones you think I can’t handle.’
‘Very well. I’ll tell you everything.’
‘Good.’ Gabriel leaned back in his seat, rubbing his temples. ‘Go on, then...’
Clara puffed out a breath. This felt like some kind of test, and she was pretty sure that if she left anything out now, she was going to fail it.
‘Yesterday evening you went to Dr and Mrs Goodman’s house for dinner. You collapsed shortly after you arrived. Dr Goodman recognised your symptoms as being drug related and took the appropriate action.’
‘And what prompted your involvement?’
‘Mrs Goodman knows your father, I believe.’
Gabriel rolled his eyes. ‘Yes, they’ve stayed with us in Italy. Sara called him, didn’t she?’
‘Yes, she did, and that turned out to have been a very wise move. It appears there have been other incidents involving your family...’
His brow darkened suddenly. ‘Other incidents? Is my mother all right?’
‘Your mother’s fine, nothing’s been directed at her. Although she’s naturally concerned about you, and we’ve been in constant contact with your parents to put their minds at rest.’
‘Thank you.’ His gaze was searching her face. ‘You should know that my older brother died in an accident when he was seventeen. My mother wouldn’t be human if she didn’t worry a little too much about me sometimes.’
‘Mr Sullivan told me. I was chosen for this assignment because I can be tactful and discreet. And I know how to reassure the people I work with.’
‘In that case, I’d be grateful if you could employ your ability to reassure to its fullest extent when you deal with my parents.’
