Wife By Contract, Mistress By Demand

Gabriella looked up at him searchingly, seeing the strain now in his face, the lines beside his eyes and mouth that hadn’t been there eight days ago.

His expression was grim. ‘The funeral was yesterday. I stayed around for as long as I could, but his widow’s grief was just too—He had two young children, too, and they don’t understand at all—I couldn’t wait to get out of there, Gabriella,’ he admitted shakily, his thumb caressing the pout of her bottom lip. ‘I badly needed what you gave so willingly last night, Gabriella,’ he added intensely. ‘Can you understand that?’

His father, her beloved stepfather, had died only seven weeks ago, and Rufus’s loss was obviously still as painful and raw as her own. It must have been awful for him to have to go through the trauma of yet another death, of a much younger man by the sound of it, and a friend.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she told him huskily. ‘I had no idea.’

He hadn’t felt he could talk to Gabriella on the telephone while he was away, Rufus acknowledged. His presence had been needed in New York, for the stunned staff at the Gresham’s there, and for Jen and her two children. If he had so much as heard Gabriella’s voice over the telephone he wouldn’t have wanted to stay in New York at all; he would have wanted to get on the next plane home.

He had got on the next plane home as soon as he had felt free to do so.

He had missed Gabriella, he realized heavily. Whatever the reason for this marriage, whatever her involvement with Toby—and he would find out exactly what that was now that he was back in England—he knew that Gabriella was fast becoming an essential part of his life. A part he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to relinquish at the end of the six months…

He stood up abruptly, thrusting his hands into his denims pockets. ‘Come down and have some breakfast with me,’ he rasped shortly.

Gabriella blinked her surprise at his sudden shift of mood. For a few minutes, a few brief minutes, Rufus had actually shared some of his personal life, his feelings, with her. A lapse he obviously now regretted!

‘Okay.’ She nodded slowly. ‘I’ll come down as soon as I’m dressed,’ she added pointedly as he made no effort to leave her bedroom.

‘Oh. Right. I’ll see you downstairs.’ He nodded abruptly before turning on his heel and walking away, closing the door firmly behind him.

Gabriella collapsed back against the pillows to stare blindly up at the ceiling.

She had longed for Rufus to come back from New York, the eight days without him here seeming to drag interminably. Although she had expected, once he did return, that they would continue to have the strained relationship that Toby had helped to maintain with his lies, with Rufus’s distrust of her now overwhelming.

Rufus coming to her bed last night, needing her warmth and closeness, the two of them making love in a totally uninhibited way, showed her how wrong she had been about that. No matter how much Rufus distrusted her, the two of them could still communicate in a physical way.

She, because she loved him so deeply.

Rufus, because he still desired her no matter what else he might believe of her.

‘Aren’t you eating anything?’ she prompted ten minutes later when she joined Rufus in the small dining-room, only a cup of coffee on the table in front of him.

He grimaced. ‘My body clock is all shot to hell. Besides, I had coffee and toast with Holly before she went to school.’

Gabriella sat down at the table with her coffee and a croissant. ‘I bet she was pleased to see you,’ she said ruefully.

‘If only to tell me what a bullying, unreasonable stepmother I’ve given her!’ He nodded ruefully.

She raised wary eyes, reassured slightly by the fact that Rufus was smiling. ‘Holly decided to eat in her bedroom for two days after you left.’ She shrugged. ‘When I heard about it I told her I had instructed the staff not to take any more meals up to her room, that if she wanted to eat in future she was to come down to the dining-room. It took a day of starvation for Holly to realize I meant what I said, but she came down for breakfast the following day.’

The battle of wills between herself and Holly hadn’t been at all pleasant, and now, even a week later, Holly still barely spoke to her as they ate breakfast or dinner together; she merely ate her food and then left.

Rufus looked at Gabriella admiringly, still not sure why she had taken this interest in Holly, but grateful that she had. It was a strange feeling to have for a woman he had always avoided feeling any emotion towards—except undeniable desire.

‘She wasn’t too thrilled, going on your advice, that I hadn’t brought her a present back, either.’ He grimaced. ‘She believes the two of us have “ganged up” on her, was the way she phrased it, I believe.’

The likelihood of that was so ridiculous that Gabriella couldn’t help smiling. ‘She obviously doesn’t know our real relationship at all!’

Rufus studied her through narrowed lids. She looked beautiful this morning, her make-up only a foundation and blusher if he wasn’t mistaken, her lashes naturally long and thick about her incredible violet-coloured eyes, her lips red and pouting—from his kisses the night before…?

‘What would you say our relationship was, Gabriella?’ he prompted huskily.

She seemed to think about that for a moment, slowly sipping her coffee. ‘Armed, but total, physical awareness?’ she finally suggested ruefully.

He laughed softly at the description. ‘At times an uncomfortable feeling.’ He nodded.

Gabriella looked at him searchingly. After their conversation before he’d left eight days ago, she had expected him to come back as insulting as when he went away. She certainly hadn’t expected to be sitting here sharing breakfast with him after a night of lovemaking that still made her blush to think about it!

But there was a quietness about Rufus today, a questioning, as if the death of his manager in New York had made him question aspects of his own life.

Of course, she would be a fool to try to read anything into that where she was concerned, knowing the slightest thing could set his suspicions off again.

‘So you decided not to bring Holly a present back after all…?’ She decided to pursue what was a relatively safe subject.

He shrugged. ‘Because of what happened, I wasn’t in the mood to go shopping! Besides, Holly was very rude to you, and to me, before I went away. I thought about that a lot while I was in New York, and decided you were probably right; I have created a monster.’

A monster who could turn out exactly like her mother if he continued to spoil her in the way that he was, he had reluctantly realized, only interested in what she could take and not what she had to give in order to receive. He had disliked Angela intensely by the time they were divorced, but he knew it wasn’t too late to correct the same faults he had unwittingly created in Holly at only seven.

He had also had a chance to observe Rob’s two children after their father died, had seen the wholly caring way the ten-and twelve-year-old had tried to help their mother through all that by not burdening her with their own pain and anguish.

It had made him realize he would like Holly to become as selfless as they were. And that the example of that could only come from him.

And Gabriella, it seemed…

Making her more of an enigma to him than ever.

He really hadn’t expected Gabriella to continue to take this interest in Holly while he was away, and even while he had listened to his young daughter’s complaints about her this morning he had wondered at that interest.

There could be no possible motive, that he could see, other than a genuine desire to help Holly.

Gabriella didn’t think of Holly as a monster at all, just a very over-indulged little girl who needed to be taught some manners.

‘How are the alterations at the restaurant progressing?’ Rufus asked.

Her face lit up. ‘Very well. It’s all been painted, in Mediterranean colours, golden creams and terracotta. The new paintings are up, real plants trailing down the walls, the kitchen has been refitted, I’m just waiting for the new chairs to arrive and it will all be finished.’

She was as animated as he had been when he’d opened the Gresham’s in New York, Rufus saw admiringly, once again questioning the hard work she obviously hadn’t minded putting into this venture. The even harder work to come once she had actually opened the restaurant to the public.

‘Will you be ready to open on Monday as planned?’ he prompted interestedly.

‘Saturday,’ she told him firmly. ‘I want to try and draw in as many Saturday shoppers as possible,’ she explained. ‘In the hope that they’ll return early next week.’

A good marketing ploy, Rufus thought approvingly, the beginning of the week always much slower for customers than the weekend.

Reminding him that he had a business here in London himself that he had necessarily been neglecting for over a week.

He put his empty coffee-cup down on the table, picking up the pile of messages he had been glancing through when Gabriella had joined him. ‘I have to go and make some calls this morning, and then go in to Gresham’s this afternoon. Will you be in for dinner this evening?’

So polite, Gabriella frowned thoughtfully, not quite understanding this new, tentative relationship between them. Rufus’s interest in the restaurant had been completely unexpected, as was his query about her plans for dinner this evening.