The Determined Virgin. Daphne Clair
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were pleasantly friendly.
A young girl and her mother who had been browsing among the displays left seconds later. Gabriel picked out a volume on traditional Pacific carving and took it to the counter.
Rhiannon blinked when she recognised him, her face tautening infinitesimally. Not the reaction he would have preferred, but at least it indicated he had some effect on her.
Giving her his most reassuring smile, he placed the book on the counter and pulled out a credit card.
She seemed uncertain then, maybe wondering if he’d forgotten her.
No way, he told her silently. She was even lovelier than he’d remembered. And she’d been teasing his memory powerfully since their last meeting.
She entered the transaction, wrapped the book with deft movements and handed it to him. Gabriel resisted the temptation to brush his fingers against hers as he took it.
‘Thanks, Rhiannon.’ He noted the slight widening of her eyes before he indicated a wall-hung mosaic depicting a long-legged pukeko with shining blue plumage stalking beside a watercourse edged with reeds and ferns. ‘Your work?’
She shook her head. ‘Not that one.’
‘The abstract designs around the doorway?’ He’d been able to pinpoint the location of the gallery easily by the colourful whirls and swirls that invited customers in.
‘Mine,’ she confirmed.
‘I’m impressed.’ Small talk, designed to put her at ease, but true all the same. He released her from his gaze and glanced about them. ‘It’s a classy place.’
‘Thank you. I hope you enjoy the book.’
‘I’m sure I will. Can you spare time for that cup of coffee later?’ He smiled again, a practised smile that made him despise himself.
Rhiannon hesitated, then she said in a little rush, ‘You’ll have to wait while I cash up.’
‘No problem.’ He shrugged. ‘Shall I help you lock the doors?’
She looked a bit disconcerted. ‘I’ll do it when I leave.’
Was she afraid of being locked in with him? Gabriel didn’t know whether to be insulted, appalled or amused.
She did swing the big glass door shut and turn a sign on it to ‘Closed.’ Then she cleared the cash register and before disappearing into a back room, said, ‘Feel free to look around some more.’
Making it clear he wasn’t invited into the inner sanctum. What secrets could she have in there?
Gabriel used the time to inspect some of the gallery’s wares more closely, lingering at a large, abstract mosaic panel propped against a wall.
Coloured stones, metallic paint and twisted copper wire added richness and texture to apparent randomness, clashing colours and broken lines. But like some kind of optical illusion, the colours and lines gradually resolved into intricate, mesmerising patterns.
When Rhiannon joined him at last, a bag swinging from her shoulder and a light jacket over her arm, he said abruptly, ‘I want that panel. It’s your work, isn’t it?’
‘You saw the signature?’
He hadn’t but now he noticed the initials unobtrusively scribbled in a lower corner, on a piece of tile.
Not wanting to spook her, he thought better of confessing that he’d guessed, inexplicably certain that he was right. Instead he just smiled and shrugged as if she’d caught him out trying to be clever.
‘Are you serious?’ she asked him.
‘Very serious.’
He was intrigued anew by the emotional play in her face—doubt, uncertainty, totally at odds with her manner to her previous customers.
‘I’ll pick it up another time,’ he said, ‘but I can pay now if you like.’
‘That’s all right. I’ll put a Sold sticker on it,’ she promised finally. ‘And if you change your mind—’
‘I don’t change my mind once I see something I want.’ He looked straight into her eyes and saw a flicker of alarm.
Back off, he warned himself. This one’s different. He tried another smile. ‘Shall we go, then?’
‘Um…yes.’
Gabriel nodded. ‘Do you need that?’ He reached out, ready to take the jacket she held.
‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘I don’t think so.’
It was a warm summer evening. But he wondered if she’d have let him put it on her even if she were freezing.
What was he getting into here?
Rhiannon flicked the automatic lock and watched Gabriel pull the door closed behind them. The street lamps made his hair gleam almost bronze, the fairer streaks turning to gold.
Across the narrow thoroughfare, music with a deep, insistent beat blasted from a darkened bar. Gabriel glanced at the neon sign above and said, ‘I’d like to find someplace quieter, if that’s okay.’
Rhiannon nodded jerkily. ‘Not too small.’
His look was mildly questioning, and she said, ‘I like a bit of room to move, don’t you?’ He was a big man; surely he’d want to be able to stretch those long legs.
‘I know what you mean,’ he conceded easily. ‘Those cubbyholes where two pairs of knees won’t fit under the table and you have to take care not to accidentally bump your neighbour with your elbow aren’t very comfortable.’
They walked side by side, Gabriel with one hand in his pocket, pushing back the edge of his jacket, the other swinging loosely at his side. Tonight his suit was dark, and he had no tie. The opened collar of his shirt showed a glimpse of lightly tanned skin.
A young couple heading in the opposite direction, arms about each other and oblivious to other pedestrians, almost ran into Rhiannon. Gabriel’s firm touch on her waist steered her out of the way, then he dropped his hand.
After turning at the next corner, he paused at a lighted doorway. ‘How does this look?’
Through the glass doors Rhiannon saw a spacious room with people at cloth-covered tables under glittering but muted chandeliers.
‘Expensive,’ she said.
He laughed and pushed open one of the doors. ‘I can stand it. Will it do?’
‘Yes,’ Rhiannon agreed hastily and stepped inside.
They were ushered to a table and Gabriel asked, ‘Would you like a real drink?’
She shook her head. ‘Just coffee, thanks. I’ll be driving later.’ Besides, she wasn’t sure she could cope with drinking and this man as well.
‘Have you eaten?’
‘Yes.’ She’d had a take-away salad earlier in the evening, bolting it down between customers.
‘What about a dessert? I could do with one myself.’ He asked the waitress for dessert menus, and looked over the top of his at Rhiannon. ‘I can recommend the chocolate-cherry gateau, but the crème brûlée is good too if you want something lighter.’
She hadn’t been sure she wanted anything at all but, glancing the menu, she found her mouth watering.
‘Do you come here regularly?’ That was a safe topic.
‘Now and then. It’s handy to my office and the service is usually quick.’
Which implied that he didn’t often have time to spare—or didn’t like wasting it. Well, she didn’t suppose he’d got where he was by sitting around eating desserts and drinking coffee. ‘I’ll try the crème brûlée,’ she decided.