In truth Gabriel Derwent was casting a mesh of fascination over both her body and her mind, and panic trickled through all the other sensations. She couldn’t remember the last time her body had responded like this and she didn’t like it.
Before Etta could end the conversation she felt her minuscule evening bag vibrate under the strategically placed napkin on her lap. Foreboding shivered her skin even as she tried to tell herself it could be anyone. There was no reason to believe anything had happened to Cathy.
Pushing her chair back, she tried to force her lips into a semblance of smile. ‘Excuse me. I’ll be back in a minute.’
Don’t run.
CHAPTER THREE
GABE GLANCED AT the empty space next to him and frowned. No bathroom break took this long. Euphemistically speaking, Etta Mason could have powdered a hundred noses by now. Plus her food would soon congeal. Could she be in trouble?
Not his business. And yet there had been an expression of near fear on her face when she’d left the table, and that had touched him on a primitive level. Fear had once been a part of his life, and the memories still lingered in the recesses of his soul. Plus, the more he could discover about Etta Mason the more likely it would be that he could work out a way to persuade her to do the job. All valid reasons to go and check up on her.
Rising, he smiled at his table companions. ‘Be back in a second.’
He moved through the imposing doors and into the hall. A quick scan showed no sign of Etta. Could be she had headed somewhere more private to make a call. Could be he should just leave her to it. Yet his feet strode towards the lobby, which was a fusion of medieval detail and modern comfort.
He halted on the threshold, took in the scene with lightning assessment. Etta was backed up against a pillar and a dark-haired man stood over her, aggression in his stance. The man’s expression held a malevolent smirk that Gabe recognised as that of a bully, of a man who knew he inspired fear in his victim. Tattoos snaked and writhed over the bulge of muscles that spoke of a lot of time spent pumping iron.
‘Is everything all right, Etta?’ Stupid question, because Etta Mason looked like a different woman from the professional, articulate, give-as-good-as-you-get woman he’d sat with at dinner. Her face was pale, her hands were clenched, and those tawny brown eyes held a mix of defiance and fear.
‘Everything’s fine,’ the man said. ‘So you can take a hike.’
‘I didn’t ask you.’
The man took a step away from Etta. ‘And...?’ The menace was palpable. ‘I said take a hike.’
Etta moved towards the man, her whole being diminished as she approached him, fear in every awkward movement, and Gabe knew with ice-cold certainty that at some point this man had hurt her.
‘Tommy, please.’
The man gave a short, harsh laugh that prickled Gabe’s skin.
‘That sounds just like the old days, Etta.’
‘Enough.’ Cold rage ran through Gabe’s veins and he strode towards Tommy. ‘The only person who needs to take a hike round here is you.’
‘It’s OK, Gabe. I’ve got this.’ Etta hauled in an audible breath. ‘Tommy, just go. Please. You’ve made your point.’
Tommy hesitated, his dark eyes mean, his fists still clenched, and Gabe took another step forward.
T
hen, ‘Fine. This toff isn’t worth messing up my parole for. But this isn’t over. Cathy is my daughter and I will meet her. Whatever it takes.’ Turning, Tommy walked towards the portcullis-style door and exited.
Gabe turned to Etta. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes. Thank you.’
She rubbed her hands up and down her forearms and stared at the door as if to make sure Tommy had gone for good.
‘Right.’ Straightening, she tugged out her phone. ‘I need to go.’ A tap of her finger and then she lifted the phone to her ear. ‘There’s been a problem. Tommy turned up here. I’m on my way back now. I’ll let you know what train I’m on.’
She glanced towards Gabe as if she was surprised he was still there and then she returned her attention to her phone.
‘Taxi numbers...’ she muttered under her breath.
‘Where are you going?’