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Australia: Wicked Mistresses(26)

By:Robyn Grady


A rush of tears prickled the backs of her eyes. It was simple, inviting, and possibly the most romantic thing a man had ever done for a woman.

Her knees suddenly watery, she held his arm tighter. “Gabe, this is…amazing.”

He helped her down onto the blanket, then moved to the ice bucket. While she dashed away a happy tear, he poured two glasses as an ocean of stars watched over them from their black velvet sky.

His dinner shirt a beacon against the shadows, he handed over a glass and lowered himself beside her.

“It was such a lovely day,” she sighed.

“I’ve been to a lot of weddings but, yes, this one was special.”

“Because it was April’s?”

“Because you were there.” While her heartbeat skipped he sipped, then set his glass aside. “I liked that they wrote their own vows.”

“Lots of couples do.”

He peered off into the distance and smiled absently. “I liked what Liam said about marrying her being his greatest achievement.”

She smiled, remembering too. “I think they’ll be very happy.”

They watched the lights twinkle for several moments, content to sip champagne and listen to the night birds’ calls.

“Thanks for not blowing the whistle on me when I helped that poor waitress tonight,” Nina finally said. She’d wanted to say it all night, but now seemed appropriate, away from prying eyes and ears.

“I felt sorry for her, poor kid.”

“Mr Dorset wouldn’t have.”

His chin came up. “To be fair, he has a responsibility to keep the level of service high.”

“And the best way to do that is by putting the fear of God into the staff?”

He drew her near and she, a little stiffly, rested her cheek on his broad shoulder again. He didn’t want to discuss business tonight. Neither did she. She’d much rather drink in the lake of lights flickering below and enjoy the quiet. Enjoy this time alone.

Maybe if things had been different, if they’d met again under different circumstances, where she’d felt more herself…

But she was forgetting. While she might be trying to overcome and make sense of some personal hurdles at the moment, Gabriel was comfortable with who he was, what he wanted, which was to enjoy this “fling in paradise” while it lasted. As much as she might want to dream, her destiny didn’t lie with him.

When some time later he poured the last of the wine, she took the empty bottle to examine it.

“If we put a message in this bottle and threw it out to sea, I wonder where it would end up? I wonder who would read it?”

“What would your message say?” he asked, but before she could answer, he piped up, “I know. We could date it, include a phone number, and tell the recipient to ring and pass on the relevant details.”

She laughed. “That’s the most logical, geekish thing I’ve ever heard.”

He gave in to a smile. “If I ever need to send a message, I promise to give it more thought.”

She set the bottle down. “Gabriel, can I ask you to give something else some more thought?”

“Anything.”

“I’d like my job back.” His brows knitted. “We’ve discussed that.”

“You’re not still angry with me for not finding the right moment to tell you about my situation here, are you?”

“Of course not.”

“I can’t pretend I want to be a waitress the rest of my life,” she went on. “Simple truth is I needed the money to make ends meet. I was desperate when my friend gave me the heads-up, but from the moment I landed I wondered if I’d made a huge mistake. I made myself ill wondering if, rather than helping, accepting that job had thrown me further off course.” She rested her hand on his. “I don’t expect you to understand—it’s so hard to explain—but I need to finish this, Gabe. Particularly after tonight. I need to find out who I am at the end of this road before I can travel down the next.”

He searched her eyes for a long moment, then exhaled and nodded deeply. “If that’s what you truly want…if that’s what you need…consider yourself reinstated.”

She sat straighter. She’d convinced him? “You mean it?”

He smiled. “I’ll call Dorset tomorrow. See how soon you can get back on the roster.”

She flung her arms around him and squeezed. She’d never dreamed being a waitress again would make her so happy.

“This means so much—and I promise,” she said, drawing back and crossing her heart, “I won’t let you down.”





CHAPTER THIRTEEN


LATE the next morning, Gabriel strode into Ziggies, Diamond Shore’s most popular café by the beach. The ocean air was fresh and salty, but with a hint of coconut oil wafting in from the nearest pool. Riots of colourful flowers glistened with beads from the automatic sprinklers’ earlier run. He was alone, bleary-eyed and testy. He needed his second cup of coffee.

But his irritation had less to do with caffeine deprivation and more to do with the phone call he’d made earlier that morning. Last night Nina had asked for her job back. She’d spoken about mistakes and roads travelled, and she’d seemed so anguished and sincere by the end of it he couldn’t refuse. If it was that important to her, he would make it happen.

Dorset’s response on the phone this morning hadn’t been what Gabriel had expected. The older man had jumped in and announced that Nina could go back to work right away. Gabriel suspected Nina’s actions in helping that waitress at the wedding might have had something to do with Dorset’s change of heart. He, too, had approved of Nina’s courage and willingness to pitch in, even while wearing an evening gown. She certainly wasn’t the Nina that Gabe Turner had once known. She wasn’t even the woman he’d met a week ago. Every day she seemed to grow.

Now, as he strode into the café grounds, his mind wound back to the previous night, when they’d returned to the bungalow after the wedding. He’d peeled that delicious dress from her shoulders and taken her to his bed. Their every touch had seemed heightened. The scent of her hair, the powder silk of her skin, the words she’d whispered against the distant roar of waves as he’d brought her closer to each climax.

He wished he could promise Nina more—particularly after April’s wedding yesterday. The day had stirred feelings inside him he hadn’t known existed…and wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to acknowledge. The truest part of him didn’t want a heavy relationship—moving in, plans for the future, worrying about whether that future would pan out. If putting so much into hauling this island out of the red was a risk, to his mind getting serious with a woman was like putting a blowtorch to a gas leak. “Serious” led to “marriage,” which led to children—and kids deserved the best from both parents. He wasn’t ready to think about that yet—wasn’t ready to take that risk even with someone as special as Nina.

He walked into the café’s alfresco area and indicated to the maître-d’ that he’d seat himself. Halfway to a vacant table near the railing, he recognised a woman in a floral shift.

Mrs Emily Flounders, from Sydney’s North Shore, beckoned him over. “Why, Mr Steele, is that you? We met at the children’s charity dinner last month.”

Gabe smiled, nodded. “Mrs Flounders.” Mr Flounders lowered his paper and Gabe leaned across to shake his hand. “Sir.”

Mrs Flounders laced glittering fingers under her double chin. “Things going well, I hope?”

“Very. Thank you.”

“We brought Linley along. You remember Linley?” She tipped forward. “Our daughter? You spoke with her at the dinner.”

He didn’t remember—which said a lot. “Of course. Please give Linley my regards.”

A moment later he drew in his chair and spotted Nina, breezing out from the café’s interior. He hadn’t noticed so much on the other staff, but that uniform could do with a brush-up in design—not shorter, nor sexier, nor even more stylish. Just…more colour, more shape, more oomph.

Nina screeched to a stop when she spotted him. After sending him a curious what are you up to? look, she crossed to the Flounders’ table.

Gabriel absently perused the menu, glancing across every few seconds, strangely nervous for her, but proud of her too. She could have taken the easy way out, accepted his help in finding her a suitable job back in Sydney that she’d enjoy. Instead she was here, travelling that road of hers to its natural conclusion—wherever that might be.

Nina was taking the Flounders’ order, but it didn’t seem to be going well. Mrs Flounders’ cheeks were ruddy, and Nina kept crossing out what she’d written. Concerned, Gabriel set his menu aside at the same time as Nina hurried off to the kitchen to place the order. Mrs Flounders waved over the maître-d’.

Gabriel couldn’t hear the exchange, but it was clear the older woman was complaining about Nina. Mrs Flounders was a pretentious show pony who loved attention. Maybe Nina had had trouble deciphering the doyenne’s demands, but that hardly deserved a complaint.

When the maître-d’ strode away, Gabriel scraped back his chair and followed. Through the round window in the swinging door that led to the kitchen he saw him ripping verbal shreds off Nina. His arms were waving. Gabriel made out a few words…stupid…incompetent…but more obvious was the man’s scathing tone.