The Determined Virgin. Daphne Clair
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last. ‘I’ll have a look.’
Gabriel let her into the foyer of the Angelair Building, pressing a button on a remote control to disable the alarm.
An elegant central stairway rising before them dominated the space, flanked by ground-floor businesses, their doors firmly closed. Gold lettering on a glass-enclosed board proclaimed that the Angelair offices were on the third floor while other firms occupied the remainder of the building.
‘Up there.’ Gabriel waved toward the stairs. Halfway up, the flight divided and curved around a convex, half-circular concrete wall, the top edge shaped upward from right to left.
‘The central lift shaft is behind it,’ Gabriel said. ‘The other side is glass.’
She vaguely remembered it from visiting the building in the past. An architectural showpiece, although there were more conventional elevators at the rear of the shopping arcade.
‘Could you do a mosaic there?’ Gabriel asked.
‘It would be a challenge.’ Both in design and execution. ‘And expensive,’ Rhiannon warned, but with a stirring of excitement.
‘Not a problem.’
Climbing the stairs, she asked, ‘I suppose you’d like a design relating to your business, since your firm owns the building?’ She went to the wall, raising her eyes to gauge the height, and stroked a hand along the curve, getting a feel for it. The finish wasn’t too smooth to take a bonding agent, she noted.
‘That would be good.’ Gabriel spoke absently, watching the movement of her hand. Then he transferred his intent gaze to her face. ‘But not a replica of the company logo.’
Rhiannon contained her smile. ‘That’s a relief.’
‘You don’t like our logo?’
‘It isn’t that I don’t like it, but I don’t want to reproduce someone else’s design.’
‘I was thinking of something more imaginative. Unique.’
‘It will take some planning, and I can’t work on it full time.’
‘I told you I’m prepared to wait for what I want. And I think you can give me that.’ His eyes were intent, and something in their expression made her breathing momentarily uneven. She had a peculiar sense that she was standing on the brink of some possibly hazardous edge, not on a solid marble landing.
Forcing her mind to practicalities, she banished the bizarre fantasy. ‘It will have to be done outside business hours.’
‘All the better. Less disruption to traffic on the stairs.’
‘I’d need a scaffold. I’m afraid that will take some room.’
‘Hm.’ He glanced up at the wall. ‘Of course. We’ll organise that. I’ll talk to the guys who did the scaffolding next door when they started the demolition. They might like another small job.’
‘Which firm is doing the demolition? I’d like to get hold of them and ask if I could have any damaged tiles.’
He wrote it down for her, and then said, indicating the wall, ‘What do you think?’
There was no logical reason to turn down a promising commission. Gabriel was willing to pay out good money, the concept was exciting, and the exposure in a prominent position to hundreds of people entering the building every day would surely boost her reputation and perhaps bring more commissions. If she ever got to earn enough from her art, she could hire extra staff for the gallery and spend more of her time creating new works.
‘If you’re sure it’s me you want,’ she said, taking the plunge, ‘then I’d like to take it on.’
He smiled as though she’d amused him. ‘I’m sure I want you, Rhiannon.’ His voice was low and there was a note in it that sent a spiral of peculiar, astonishingly pleasurable sensation down her spine.
Making her own voice crisp, she said, ‘Do you have any definite ideas?’
His lips momentarily curled upward, his brows rising a fraction, but he said, ‘About the design? That’s up to you. But I’d appreciate some consultation.’
‘Of course. I could make some sketches, and work out an estimated price and time frame before we go ahead.’
‘I’ll be looking forward to it.’ He sent her a slow smile, almost intimate, and her breath hitched for an instant.
She put a hand on the smooth polished stair rail to steady herself, and began to descend, watching her feet.
Gabriel came to her side, his hands nonchalantly buried in his pockets. ‘Maybe fate brought us together,’ he said. ‘The perfect match.’
Her step faltered, and swiftly he turned, an arm stretched across in front of her, his hand closing over the railing just below hers. He was one step down from her and their eyes were level. ‘You and my blank wall,’ he said. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes.’ But her heart was jumping.
He’d thought she might fall, she realised. He wasn’t trapping her.
He didn’t move away instantly. ‘You’re safe,’ he said, ‘with me.’
Rhiannon swallowed. ‘I wasn’t falling.’
His smile was enigmatic and a little tight. ‘I wouldn’t mind, and I’m here to catch you.’
‘I don’t need to be caught.’ Her throat felt as though there were a tiny moth helplessly imprisoned there.
‘And don’t want to be.’ Gabriel spoke slowly, his eyes searching her face.
Rhiannon shook her head, not trusting her voice. New sensations bewildered her; a kind of excitement that was half fear and half something else, absolutely alien to her.
Dizzying warmth started at her toes and weakened her knees, rising to heat her cheeks and dry her mouth. She moistened her lips and Gabriel’s gaze became riveted on them. Her heartbeat increased to suffocation point.
Then he said, his voice oddly muffled, ‘So. We’d better get out of here.’
He went just ahead of her and she hurried down the remainder of the steps, ignoring the hand he offered when he reached the bottom.
He didn’t comment on that, but something flared in his eyes, and Rhiannon didn’t dare speak until he let them out of the building, using a side staff door down a short flight of concrete steps. ‘This way it’s a shorter walk back to your gallery,’ he explained as he re-armed the alarm.
‘You’ll want to collect your mosaic,’ she realised.
Once there she unlocked the door and stood by while he hoisted the bulky package into his arms.
‘I’ll let you know when I’ve had time to consider your project,’ she told him.
‘Aren’t you leaving now?’
‘I have stuff to do here.’ She was still setting up the back room so she could do mosaics there.
‘I’ll see you again, then.’ Gabriel smiled into her eyes, and then she was watching him stride away from her.
It was seconds before she roused herself to turn the other way and head for the back of the gallery.
Several times in the next few days Rhiannon almost phoned Gabriel’s office to tell him she couldn’t take on his project after all.
She was too discomfited around him, too aware of the frailty of the protective barriers she’d painstakingly built about herself.
He was the first man who had seriously threatened them.
She didn’t know how to deal with the occasional gleam in his eyes, the crease of amusement in his cheek when he made some remark that seemed to hold