The Millionaire's Revenge(37)

She made a concerted effort to draw back and suc­ceeded.

‘I’m not sure what came over me,’ she apologised with a watery smile.

‘Memories,’ Gabriel said gruffly, sticking his hands into his pockets. A perfect opportunity missed, he thought re­gretfully. He was definitely losing his touch. He had had her there, in his arms, as vulnerable as a newborn babe and, instead of seizing the opportunity, he had played the understanding gentleman, had wanted to play the under­standing gentleman. He wondered whether years of being the object of pursuit had dulled his talent for the chase.

‘The room could certainly do with an overhaul, though,’ Laura said, moving away. ‘What would you like to see here? I...’ She sighed and frowned. ‘The furniture will look odd if the room is done up around it. Old-fashioned.’

‘Then sell it, Laura. Put the proceeds into your bank account.’

For when I’m thrown off the premises, she thought. Be­cause she had no doubt that off the premises was exactly where she was heading, despite all his talk about treating his house as hers. Nor would she allow three seconds of sympathy to get to her and make her forget that their re­lationship now was just precisely what she had told him, namely a business arrangement.

Her eyes skittered across to him and she licked her lips.

‘Why don’t I just leave you in charge of the decorating?’ he suggested.

‘Because I don’t know the first thing about interior de­sign. And I wouldn’t feel comfortable ...taking charge of somewhere that’s not my own.’

‘Oh, God. Here we go again.’

‘No, really, Gabriel. I’m not about to start...’

‘Reminding me that I’m the big, bad wolf who has de­rived you of your family home?’

Instead of rushing headlong into defending her position, Laura smiled sheepishly. ‘Right. What I’m saying is that I’m not exactly ...you know, the height of fashion...’ She could feel every word turning into a tongue-twister as he stood stock-still and regarded her with that dark, disturb­ingly penetrating look of his that made her toes curl.#p#分页标题#e#

‘The height of fashion...? What has fashion got to do with anything?’

‘A lot. It has a lot to do with ...I mean, Gabriel, look at you and look at me.’ He duly cast his eyes down his body then ran his eyes over hers, paying a lot more attention to every inch of her. When he finally met her eyes, she was blushing furiously.

‘Yes, there are some obvious differences but I would put those down to gender.’ He raised one eyebrow in amusement and Laura remained staunchly unmoved by the provocatively inviting glitter in his eyes.

‘You want the best. It’s obvious from the way you dress, Gabriel. I ...I’ve led an outdoor life and never had much time for how I looked.’

‘Where are we going with this one?’

I don’t know anything about furnishing a house to the sort of standard a man like you would expect!’

‘A man like me...’ Gabriel mused coolly. ‘You forget that I did not always possess this wealth.’

‘And now you do,’ Laura persisted stubbornly, and I’m sure you would want furnishings that reflect your ...your status.’

‘Oh, naturally,’ he mocked, I could not possibly want somewhere comfortable and soothing when I could have something very expensive and probably very ostentatious. I do not intend to make this a permanent base, but when I do come here, I assure you I will not be looking to sur­round myself with heavy velvet drapes and silk on the walls. Nor will I want the taps to be gold-plated.’

‘Why do you always have to jump to the other ex­treme?’

‘Why do you always have to pigeon-hole? If you do not feel confident about decorating this place, then feel free to hire an interior designer.’ He shrugged, as if suddenly bored by the conversation. He didn’t want to be here dis­cussing wall colours and furniture requirements, he thought suddenly. As long as they continued trawling from room to room with Laura clutching that stupid sheet of paper, they would remain on opposite sides of an insur­mountable wall. He, the boss in charge, she the employee who had been bailed out. And it didn’t matter one jot if her eyes kept sliding over to him of their own accord. She would keep her instincts at bay and listen to her head. ‘Is that what you did with your own house? Hired an interior designer?’

‘I have no time to sit in shops poring over wallpaper books and shopping for little artefacts. I gave my designer free rein and she did the rest.’

‘And you like it?’