Australia: Wicked Mistresses(20)
Clutching the robe closer to her neck, Nina cleared her throat. “Lucky…yes. But my ankle feels fine now, thank you.”
The doctor pushed his bifocals to the bridge of his nose, then released the clip on his bag. “Nevertheless…”
Nina evaluated the situation. Clearly she was in no position to win a stand-off. Two against one, and her ankle was telling her to cop it on the chin and sit down.
Trying to look poised in her towelling robe, she crossed to a chair, and five minutes later the doctor’s examination of her injuries was complete. He fished out some tablets, checked the label, and handed the pack over.
“Anti-inflammatories will help with that slight swelling and any pain.” He snapped shut his bag and straightened his tie. “Keep the wounds clean, take it easy on your feet, and call me if you have any concerns.”
Gabriel thanked the doctor for his time, and the moment the older man had let himself out Nina stood and gave Gabriel a look.
He arched his brows. “What?”
“I’m old enough to make my own appointments.”
He gathered her near, stole three or four slow closed-mouth kisses from her lips, and the lines of her defence typically started to slide.
With a crooked grin, he rubbed the tip of his nose with hers. “I was only looking out for you.”
His mouth lowered to kiss her again, but, feeling a little odd with Gabe Turner now that the daylight had come, she dodged and wove out of his arms. She knew he wasn’t that proud, aloof teenager any more, but still…
She dug her hands into the robe’s pockets. “Don’t you think this is weird?”
“You mean how good we are together?”
“That we’re together at all.” She lowered herself into the couch. “I know time’s supposed to heal all wounds, but you really didn’t like me.”
He tugged his ear. “I wouldn’t say that.”
She grinned. He might not say it, but she knew what he was thinking. Once upon a time he’d loathed the sight of her.
She sat back. “My parents never seemed to notice the battle going on between us, though. I remember one morning Dad said he thought Gabe Turner was a decent, hardworking boy. I chewed my cornflakes, scowling, and wished I never had to see you again.”
As he folded down beside her, she stole a glance at him from beneath her lashes. Suddenly feeling like that fourteen-year-old again, she admitted, “My cheeks would burn whenever you walked by without so much as a hello. It was all I could do not to kick your shin.”
He chuckled. “Why didn’t you?”
“My mother said ladies never resort to violence.” Her gaze shied away and her voice lowered. “So I tried to hurt you another way.”
She’d let him know that while he might think he was hot stuff, he wasn’t fit to wash her father’s car.
She withered into herself and cringed. “I’m sorry, Gabe. I really was awful.”
He was searching her eyes, checking to see if she was patronising him, but then his earnest face dissolved. “Ah, you weren’t so bad.”
He was being nice. She’d been horrid. But now, as an adult, she could acknowledge that annoying burning tension for what it had been…rumblings of sexual curiosity whenever Gabe Turner’s impervious, marvellous presence entered a room. At fourteen, she’d been pretty clueless. Even if someone had pointed out that she’d had a crush on her brother’s best friend, she doubted she’d have known what to do about it.
Had he felt attracted to her back then—even in a “she’s a pain but still cute” kind of way? What would she have done if Geeky Gabe had silenced her snarky barbs with one perfect, penetrating kiss? At that age it wouldn’t have been appropriate.
They’d grown up a lot since then.
She glanced over again, smiled, and swallowed a laugh. “You were such a dork.”
“Hey, a lot of dorks have the smarts to make it in this world.” He threaded his fingers behind his head. “Anthony, on the other hand, was a complete jock. We made an odd pair—” his gaze intensified “—but we understood each other.”
She swung more towards him. “How did you two meet?”
A fond grin hitched up a corner of his mouth. “Anthony’s bike had a flat, and I stopped on mine to help. The next day he offered to coach me at gym. I kicked butt with those grades that term, and our friendship went from there.”
Remembering her carefree schooldays, Nina felt her heart contract. “I still miss him so much.”
Gabriel’s arms lowered and he took her hand. “After his accident I felt numb. It took me till midway through university, when I hooked up with Zane, before I got through a whole day without thinking about him.”
“You liked uni?”
His thumb stroked the back of her hand. “My aunt worked two jobs to pay for my private school education. I owed it to her to do well.” He grinned, remembering. “I wanted to buy her a penthouse in the heart of Sydney, and take her shopping at Tiffany’s for genuine pearl earrings.”
“Very nice.” Her tone changed when she added, “Your aunt would be proud of you now.”
“I have a way to go yet.” He fixed her with a serious gaze. “But we’re avoiding a very grave matter.”
Nina landed back in the here and now.
Gabriel wasn’t that adolescent geek any more. He was her boss, and he’d told her last night she was out of a job. She’d stayed with him last night, but was he about to break it to her that, nice as this little interlude had been, it was time to get her unemployed butt off his island? That their holiday fling was over?
“Thing is,” he began, and his hand tightened around hers, “I want to know why you slipped out of bed this morning without at least one kiss to start my day.”
She let go that breath. “A kiss?”
“At least one.”
He closed in to take what he’d missed. At the same time the knocker fell on the front door. Nina reflexively pulled back, but he tugged her close again.
“Whoever it is,” he murmured against her lips, “it’s not important.”
“How do you know?”
“Because nothing’s as important as this.”
His mouth covered hers, but the knocker sounded again, and again.
Growling, he pushed to his feet and held up an index finger. “Give me one minute.”
But as he strode towards the door Nina gathered her whirling thoughts. This last day and a half she’d felt as if she were on a seesaw—one minute down and out, the next riding a rocket-ship-high.
Two things were certain. Gabriel needed to spend time on getting this island in shape. The working day had begun. It was time he got out there. Beyond that…as much as he inflated her tyres—as much as her switched-on body begged for his attention—she wouldn’t set foot in that bedroom again until they’d sorted a few things out.
When Gabriel opened the door, his head pulled back. Not who he was expecting.
“April?”
What was his PA—make that ex-PA—doing here?
A tissue at her cheek, April dragged herself into the centre of the room. Her diminutive shoulders hunched and blonde hair came forward as she blew her nose.
“I’m not going through with it,” she mumbled into the tissue.
Dumbfounded, Gabe followed her. “Through with…? You mean the wedding?”
She fixed him with accusing eyes. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”
She’d spoken of nothing else for six months. She’d told him she couldn’t live without this guy. She’d said how much her gown had cost, and he’d countered with, “That’s outrageous!” Now she was in tears. Calling everything off. And people wondered why he wasn’t rushing to tie any knots.
April’s watery expression changed as her red-rimmed eyes focused on Nina. “Oh…sorry, I didn’t realise you had company.”
Nina was smiling uncertainly at their guest, while tugging the tie of her robe a little tighter. Gabriel exhaled. He guessed he should introduce them.
“April, this is Nina. Nina, this is April.” He realised how this must look—as if he’d picked her up overnight—and while it shouldn’t matter what April thought of anyone he saw, he added, “I’ve known Nina for years.”
Preoccupied, April nodded, then spoke to herself more than to either of them.
“I’ve only known Liam twelve months. One short year.” She collapsed into a chair and gazed unseeing at her sandalled pigeon-toed feet. “I felt as if we’d known each other for ever.”
Nina’s eyes questioned his. Gabriel shrugged, then edged forward. “What happened?”
“He wants me to sign a pre-nup.”
“You didn’t discuss it before now?”
In a daze, April shook her head. “He says his parents are insisting.”
“I didn’t think he had any money.”
April slid him a dry look. “Compared to someone like you, no one has any money.” She blew her nose again and spoke to Nina. “Would you sign a pre-nup?”
Nina blinked several times then stammered, “I—I don’t think I’m the one to ask.”
“You don’t marry someone,” April expounded, “commit your life and heart and soul, but have a conditional clause ‘just in case.’”