Gabriel murmured knowingly.
Bryn gave a pained grimace. ‘I’m sure you’ll agree it wasn’t the most sensible thing either of us has ever done—’
‘Bryn, will you, for the love of God, look at me?’ he rasped his frustration with the situation. ‘Talk to me, damn it!’
She turned slowly, eyes huge and shadowed, her cheeks as pale as ivory in the moonlight. ‘I don’t know what you want me to say.’
‘Don’t you?’
She looked away from the intensity of his gaze. ‘How about, this should never have happened?’ She gave a shake of her head. ‘We both know that already.’
‘Do we?’
‘Yes.’ Bryn looked at him searchingly. ‘Unless— Is this standard procedure? Did you think, expect, that I would be so grateful to be included in the exhibition at Archangel I would—?’ She broke off abruptly as she obviously saw, and recognised, the tightening of Gabriel’s jaw and the anger now glittering in the darkness of his eyes.
‘I’m getting a little tired of that accusation, Bryn.’ He spoke softly, dangerously so. ‘And no, kissing me isn’t the price you’re expected to pay for inclusion in the exhibition!’
She winced. ‘I didn’t exactly say that—’
‘You didn’t exactly have to!’ Gabriel bit out harshly, wondering if he had ever been this angry in his life before. ‘What the hell sort of man do you think I am? Don’t answer that,’ he immediately amended. He already knew what sort of man Bryn thought he was.
Gabriel had thought, believed, that after a rocky start they had managed to spend a relaxed evening together, that Bryn was starting to see beyond what happened in the past—starting to see him beyond that—and instead she now thought him capable of using his position as one of the owners of the gallery to— What an idiot, what a fool he was, to think that Bryn could ever see him as anything more than the man who had helped to put her father in prison....
‘You’re right, Bryn. You should go inside now,’ he growled coldly. ‘Before you think of something else to say to insult me.’
Bryn hesitated, continuing to look at Gabriel searchingly, unable to read anything from his suddenly closed expression. ‘It wasn’t my intention to insult you—’
‘Then heaven help me if you ever do mean it,’ he muttered disgustedly.
She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘I was— I just— Our going out to dinner earlier, what happened just now, it was a mistake.’
‘Mine or yours?’
‘For both of us,’ she insisted firmly. ‘And I think it would be better, for the sake of the exhibition, if it didn’t happen again. If we keep things on a purely business footing between the two of us from now on,’ she added.
‘As opposed to?’
‘Anything less than a business footing,’ she maintained determinedly.
Gabriel gave a grim smile. ‘Do you really think that’s possible after what just happened?’
Bryn wasn’t sure a business footing had ever been a possibility between herself and Gabriel—and she was utterly convinced of it after her response to him just now. Gabriel had only needed to kiss her, to touch her, to caress her and she had forgotten everything but him and the moment. Nothing else had mattered at that moment. Nothing.
And it had to. It must. Because she wasn’t about to allow herself to suffer the heartache of falling in love with Gabriel D’Angelo.
Not again.
Gabriel took in the stubborn lifting of Bryn’s chin, the determined glitter in her eyes, and knew that she meant it when she said she wanted the two of them to go back to having a business relationship only.
If not for the reason she stated.
He was thirty-three years old, had been sexually active for almost seventeen of those years, and he was experienced enough to know when a woman desired him. And, whether she liked it or not, Bryn had been looking at him all evening as if she desired him as much as he desired her, and what had happened just now had been a direct result of that mutual desire. Bryn might wish it weren’t so, might believe it was insanity on her part to be attracted to Gabriel while still carrying the pain of the past, but none of that changed the fact that she did want him.
Whether or not she actually liked him was something else entirely.
And that mattered to Gabriel.
Because he not only desired Bryn, he liked her. He had liked her five years ago too, even before he had seen her unshakeable loyalty to her father, and the quiet strength she had offered her mother as the two of them had sat together in the courtroom day after day.
Just as he admired Bryn’s determination since meeting her again, her tenacity to succeed so intense that she had even been willing to become involved with the Archangel Gallery, to meet with at least one of the detested D’Angelo brothers, in order to achieve the success she so desired.
Kissing and embracing Bryn while knowing she didn’t return that liking was not an option for Gabriel. Not with this particular woman. ‘Okay, Bryn—’ he nodded tersely ‘—if that’s how you want it, then that’s how it will be from now on,’ he bit out abruptly.
She blinked. ‘You’re saying you agree to—to just a business relationship between the two of us?’
His jaw tightened. ‘I believe I just said so, yes. Do you not believe me?’ he rasped as she continued to look at him warily.
Of course Bryn believed Gabriel; why shouldn’t she, when he had never done anything, five years ago or now, to give her cause not to believe he always did and meant what he said?
It was just— She didn’t— Damn it! Part of her was actually irritated and hurt that Gabriel had agreed so easily to the two of them resuming a business relationship. Even if it had been her suggestion.
Which was utterly ridiculous. The exhibition wasn’t until next month, and she knew from the things Gabriel had told her earlier—she had heard at least some of what he had to say—that she would be expected to go to Archangel often during the next few weeks, sit for photographs and provide the contents for the blurb for the catalogue, and to oversee and approve the framing of her paintings. And it would be far better, for everyone involved, if she and Gabriel could manage to maintain at least a semblance of politeness between the two of them during that time.
Bryn knew all that.
Logically, she accepted all of that.
Illogically, she knew that the attraction she had felt towards Gabriel five years ago might have been buried, might have remained dormant for those same five years, but that it was still very much alive inside her, and had only needed for her to see him again, to be with him again, for it to be rekindled.
To rage out of control.
As she had been out of control a few minutes ago, so much so that she had been balanced on the edge of orgasm just from the touch of Gabriel’s
