Daphne Clair – The Determined Virgin (страница 6)

He might never have suspected if he hadn’t caught her off guard that first day, scaring her witless with a single, asexual touch and an offer of help. She hadn’t been able to cover up so well then, her defences stripped for a few minutes by pain.

They were good defences.

The elevator doors slid open for him. A pretty young woman standing in the middle of the car gave him a small social smile as he entered and pressed the button for his floor. He could feel her covert glances but didn’t return them.

Rhiannon in the same situation had backed into the corner.

She’d been anxious from the moment he entered.

The woman he was sharing with now stepped forward when the elevator glided to a stop at her floor, and gave him a lingering sidelong glance as she left. He had no urge to follow her before the doors closed again.

In the gallery, on her own turf, Rhiannon had been perfectly sure of herself with her customers, and her manner had scarcely changed when Gabriel approached, except for that slight, involuntary alteration in her expression, like an invisible glass mask.

The mask had slipped when she spoke of her work, but it went right back at any hint of masculine interest. As though she had no idea how to deal with it.

She didn’t know how to flirt.

The doors opened and he stepped out. He smiled, unaware of the slightly tigerish quality of the smile.

Maybe he could teach her.

His purchase of the panel gave Gabriel an excuse to call at the gallery on Saturday, when Mosaica was open until two.

Ten minutes before closing time he found Rhiannon alone behind the counter, her head bent over a notepad.

‘Hi,’ he said, and she looked up, her eyes glazed for a moment.

When they cleared, her smile was uncertain. ‘Hello.’

‘You remembered?’ He glanced over at the mosaic and the red sticker fixed to it.

Rhiannon seemed to gather herself, assuming a professional air. ‘I was going to phone you on Monday and ask if you want it delivered.’

‘I’ll take it myself.’

‘Now? Certainly.’

The door chime momentarily drew her attention to a middle-aged Japanese couple entering. Then she turned to the door standing ajar behind the counter and called, ‘Peri?’

A broad-shouldered young man appeared, with smooth brown skin and large dark eyes, his black hair a mane of luxurious waves secured in a ponytail. A tie-dyed muscle shirt and purple leather pants hugged his lovingly honed chest and thighs, and he flashed a dazzling Tom Cruise smile at Rhiannon. ‘Yeah, boss?’

‘Mr Hudson’s buying the mosaic over there. Could you pack it for him please?’

‘Sure.’ Peri ambled over to the piece and lifted it with effortless care before shouldering his way back through the doorway.

Her voice crisp, Rhiannon said to Gabriel’s shirt-front, ‘How did you want to pay?’

Reaching for his credit card, Gabriel experienced a flash of annoyance. From her manner, he could have been any stranger off the street. And seeing Peri had shaken him a bit. When Rhiannon mentioned an assistant he’d assumed a female one, not a hunky young guy who believed in making the most of his obvious assets.

It called into question all Gabriel’s guesses and assumptions. If she didn’t mind having that around every day she was hardly man-shy.

Just shy of certain men. Him, for instance.

Handing over the card, he studied her bent head as she processed the payment, remembering with a certain relief that she’d denied being in a relationship.

The Japanese couple were holding a murmured debate over a large wooden bowl, turning it over and running their fingers across the smooth finish. Rhiannon handed back Gabriel’s card and said dismissively, ‘Peri won’t be long,’ then went to speak to them.

Peri reappeared with the mosaic encased in sturdy cardboard. ‘Here you are, mate. I mean, sir!’ He threw a comical glance at Rhiannon, but she was concentrating on the tourists, who didn’t have much English. ‘Want me to carry it? How far to your car?’

‘No thanks,’ Gabriel assured him shortly, not keen on following all that splendid musculature along the street. ‘Just leave it here for now. I’m waiting to speak to your boss.’

‘Sure.’ Peri leaned the parcel against the end of the counter, giving him a rather sharp glance.

The couple decided to buy the bowl and, as they approached the counter with Rhiannon, she asked Peri to find a box and prepare it for posting.

While he bore the bowl off to the back room and Rhiannon patiently deciphered where the couple wanted it sent and took their payment, Gabriel stood by. After they had bowed their way out, she turned to him and indicated the wrapped mosaic. ‘Is Peri going to carry that for you?’

She made to turn, presumably to call the assistant, and Gabriel reached out a hand but dropped it before his fingers touched her arm. ‘I don’t need Peri.’ As she paused, he said, ‘Have you eaten?’

‘On Saturday we’re usually very busy, and I don’t bother until the shop closes.’

‘Have something with me?’

‘Why?’

Hadn’t she ever heard of a date? He raised his brows and she looked flustered, biting her lip as her cheeks coloured.

Gabriel went to Plan B. ‘I want to discuss a possible commission.’

Her eyelids flickered. ‘What kind of commission?’

‘Let me buy you a late lunch and we can talk about it.’

Her gaze lowered, and he saw the front of her blouse—teamed with dark green jeans—flutter as she took a breath. Then she raised her head and her eyes met his. ‘All right.’

Gabriel was unprepared for the surge of triumph that made him want to grab her and kiss that gorgeous, tempting mouth. Instead he nodded and said, ‘When you’re ready.’

He found them an umbrella-shaded outdoor table at a café-bar. Rhiannon was glad to be offered the choice instead of going inside.

Over her Niçoise salad and Gabriel’s curried kumara fritters he asked her, ‘How long has Peri been with you?’

‘Since I moved into the new place. I’d sold some carvings for him over the last couple of years, and he helped out before Christmas.’

‘He’s a carver?’

‘His uncle taught him traditional Maori carving, and Peri’s particularly interested in incorporating Maori motifs into modern design. But it doesn’t pay enough to live on, and I figured I’d need an assistant when I moved into town, so I offered him the job.’

Peri had jumped at it, and she’d had no qualms about employing him.

Gabriel’s look was oddly penetrating. ‘I guess he’s an asset to the shop.’

‘He’s keen, and strong.’ Some of their stock, like the mosaic Gabriel had bought, was heavy and awkward; she’d been glad of Peri’s muscle. ‘And he did his degree in art.’

Gabriel nodded, spearing a potato chip with his fork.

Rhiannon ate a shiny black olive and carefully placed the stone on the side of her plate. ‘What’s the commission you wanted to talk about?’

Reminding himself he’d told her it was a business lunch, Gabriel said, ‘There’s a blank concrete wall in the Angelair Building.’ There was, since yesterday when he’d decided the huge tapestry hanging there was dusty and dated, and had it taken down. ‘It needs some kind of artwork—like a mosaic.’

If he’d thought she’d jump at the opportunity to decorate the pride of his company, which had won a building industry award, he would have been wrong. She went very still, her fork poised with another olive on it. ‘Why me?’ she asked quietly.

Because I can’t get you out of my mind. Because he wanted to pin her down, make sure she couldn’t easily escape him while he delved under that fragile shell she adopted in public, and discovered what was beneath it. Because he wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t back away from him when she found out just how intensely he wanted to know her—in every sense of the word.

And because he had a hunch his supposedly irresistible charm wasn’t going to work its magic with this woman.

He said, ‘I like your work.’

‘You want an unknown artist to do this?’ She sounded sceptical.

‘I’ve found out quite a lot about you, and—’

‘What?’ The fork in her hand lowered, and the skin on her cheeks went taut and pale. ‘How?’