It took her two seconds to spot the red-and-white-checked awning where, from memory, a corner shop used to be, tucked away on the corner and easy to miss, if it hadn’t been for the bright lights and the people inside.
‘Don’t run away from me!’
His hand snapped out, holding her firmly in place before she could flee to the safety of the crowded restaurant.
‘I’m not running away!’ No. She wasn’t. She was staring up into those deep, dark eyes and bitterly resenting his presence here in her treasured, private territory. ‘What did you mean when you said that...that mum had a boyfriend?’
Gabriel felt some of the tension leave him. She had kissed him. Hell, she had kissed him as hungrily as he had kissed her. And then, almost immediately, she had pushed him away. At least she wasn’t pushing him away now. It was something.
‘I’ll tell you over dinner. I take it that’s the restaurant over there?’ He began walking, pointedly not tucking her arm into his, although he wanted to.
This, Alice thought, was what lust felt like. In Paris, when they had been playing truant, when she had fallen madly and stupidly in love with him, he had shown affection in all sorts of small ways: holding hands, turning to kiss her, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear when the breeze was whipping it across her face...
But they weren’t playing truant now. They were back in England, and it was pretty clear that he might still want her, but those gestures of affection were no longer appropriate. His hands were very firmly in his jacket pockets and he was barely glancing in her direction as they walked briskly over to the restaurant.
‘So, tell me,’ Alice reluctantly demanded, once they were tucked away in the corner of the restaurant with two over-sized menus in front of them and a bottle of white wine on the way.
‘I’m sorry if I said something you would rather not have heard,’ Gabriel told her roughly. ‘This wasn’t a long, soul-searching conversation with your mother, Alice. She mentioned in passing that there was a man interested in her, someone she had started seeing recently, and then she laughed nervously and told me that she was working up the courage to tell you about him.’
Alice felt the sting of hurt prick the back of her eyes. She was lost for words. Her mother had given no indication of any boyfriend lurking backstage but then again, she thought with painful honesty, when was the last time she had encouraged confidences of that nature? No, she had held forth on men and the need to be careful with them; she had talked long and hard about them both learning from experience; she had bitterly and often harked back to her feckless father as a learning curve her mother should never forget...
That had never been fertile ground for her mother to tell her that she was involved with a man.
‘I see.’ Her face was stiff with the effort of trying not to cry. She wished he wouldn’t be gentle with her. She wished he would just be the single-minded bastard who only wanted one thing, whatever the cost. She stiffened as he reached across the table and laid his hand over hers.
‘I told her that I was sure you would be delighted to know that she had found someone, a companion...’ Because, for all her assertiveness, her spikiness, her boundless ability to speak whatever was on her mind and suffer the consequences, she had a big heart.
How did he know that? He just did.
‘Maybe I wouldn’t have been that delighted.’ She pulled her hand out from under his, instantly missing the warmth that had passed between them, and smiled at the waiter as he dribbled wine into Gabriel’s glass and went through the performance of asking whether it was all right.
As soon as her glass had been poured, she drank it and looked to Gabriel for a refill.
‘What do you mean?’
Alice threw the last of her privacy through the window. He had made so many inroads into her life that there didn’t seem much point hanging on to it. Fortified by the wine, she sighed and traced a little pattern on her empty white plate. Then she looked at him.
‘I’m afraid my childhood wasn’t a happy one,’ she said heavily. ‘My father was...a bully and a philanderer. I grew up having to deal with the effect that had on Mum. You’re right—she’s not like me. She’s always been frail. You know...?’ She darted a quick look at him, watching to see if he was repelled at what she was telling him, and then melting because his expression was so sympathetic. ‘I can’t believe I’m telling you this. I...I’m not usually the sort of person who confides.’
‘You’ve grown up being strong for the sake of your mother.’ Gabriel sipped his wine and impatiently brushed aside the waiter who was approaching them for their order.