you any longer when I can see I’m keeping you from where you really want to be,’ David drawled dryly.
Gabriel drew his gaze reluctantly from Bryn’s as he turned back to the other man. ‘Sorry?’
The older man chuckled good-naturedly. ‘I advise you go to her, man!’
Gabriel gave a rueful smile. ‘Is it that obvious?’
David continued to smile indulgently. ‘Lovely-looking girl. Beautiful as well as talented. Deadly combination, hmm?’
‘Deadly,’ Gabriel accepted heavily.
‘Then go to it, man.’ David gave him an encouraging slap on the shoulder. ‘Before that rascal of a brother of yours beats you to it,’ he added with a pointed look at Rafe making his way determinedly in Bryn’s direction.
‘Damn you, Rafe,’ Gabriel muttered impatiently even as he placed his empty champagne glass on the tray of one of the passing waiters before striding forcefully across the room to intercept his brother. ‘This isn’t what we agreed your role would be this evening, Rafe!’ He glowered in warning.
Rafe raised mocking brows. ‘I just thought I would keep Bryn company while I’m waiting. She looks absolutely stunning this evening, by the way.’
‘Hands off, Rafe,’ he growled.
His brother grinned unrepentantly. ‘Does Bryn know how damned possessive you are over her?’
‘Yes.’ He frowned grimly, not sure that Bryn wasn’t actually going to hate him by the end of this evening.
Rafe chuckled. ‘And have you told her how you feel about her yet?’
‘Go to hell, Rafe.’
Rafe looked comfortably unconcerned. ‘Of course. Why do things the easy way when you can so easily complicate the hell out of them?’ He gave a rueful shake of his head. ‘At this rate you’re going to end up as cold and remote as Michael!’
Gabriel glanced across to where their older brother managed to remain withdrawn even while mingling with their guests. ‘He likes his life that way.’ He shrugged.
‘But you don’t, not anymore. Which is why—’ Rafe turned back to Gabriel, brows raised ‘—complicated or not, you should just grab your woman and to hell with everything else!’
‘We both know it isn’t that simple where Bryn is concerned.’ Gabriel grimaced.
‘Then I suggest you make it that simple and put the rest of us out of our misery.’
‘Your turn will come, Rafe,’ Gabriel warned impatiently. ‘And when it does we’ll see just how well you deal with it. And her.’
Rafe gave a scornful snort. ‘There isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that I’m going to let some woman—any woman!—come between me and my bachelor lifestyle.’
‘Oh, it will come, Rafe, take my word for it, and when it does I’m going to enjoy seeing you have to eat your words.’ Gabriel chuckled with satisfaction. ‘In the meantime, keep your lethal charms away from Bryn,’ he added firmly.
‘Just can’t stand the competition, hmm?’
‘You’re too irritating for me to consider you serious competition,’ Gabriel drawled dismissively, his gaze once again returning to, and remaining on, Bryn as she chatted with Eric. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go and talk to “my woman”.’ But before he could even begin to cross the room to Bryn’s side he saw her face pale, her eyes widening in distress as she stared across at the entrance to the gallery.
And Gabriel knew, without needing to turn and look, that the moment of truth had arrived.
‘Go now, Rafe!’ he rasped harshly as he strode towards Bryn.
* * *
Bryn was sure she had to be hallucinating, brought about, no doubt, by the strain of the past two weeks and too much champagne on an empty stomach; she had been too excited about this evening to even think about eating today!
Because she couldn’t really be looking at her mother and Rhys standing in the entrance to the gallery; it had to be her guilty thoughts of a few minutes ago that made her imagine she could.
Except... Bryn was sure she would never have imagined Rhys looking so handsome in an evening suit; as far as she was aware her stepfather didn’t even own an evening suit. In fact, she didn’t think she had ever seen Rhys in anything other than jeans and casual tops, T-shirts or sweaters, depending on the time of year. He had worn a suit at his wedding with Mary, of course, but as far as Bryn knew that had been put at the back of his wardrobe the day after the wedding and forgotten about.
Her mother looked slender and beautiful, of course, in her favourite gown, the same deep grey as her eyes, her ivory skin flawless, pale peach lip gloss on her parted lips.
A smile now curved those peach-coloured lips, grey eyes lighting up with excitement, as Mary looked straight across at Bryn before her attention was distracted by Raphael D’Angelo as he joined them in the doorway, speaking briefly before kissing Mary’s hand and shaking Rhys’s.
Bryn knew there was no way she could have imagined that.
Which meant her mother and Rhys really were here. How on earth had—?
Gabriel!
Gabriel had to have done this.
But why?
Why would Gabriel do something so potentially destructive to what should have been a glitteringly successful evening for the Archangel Gallery? Was he, despite having consistently denied it, still so absorbed in the past that he was willing to take his revenge against Mary and Bryn at the cost of that success and all the weeks of hard work that had gone into this exhibition?
No.
Bryn couldn’t believe that of him. She wouldn’t believe that of the man she loved and had come to know so well these past few weeks. There had to be another reason, an innocent reason, for Gabriel having deliberately invited her mother and Rhys to the exhibition.
‘Bryn? Bryn!’
She turned sharply at the sound of Gabriel’s voice, trying to focus through the black spots wavering in front of her eyes. ‘Why?’ she had time to gasp before those black spots all merged into one huge black hole into which Bryn thankfully fell.
She wasn’t aware of being swept up into Gabriel’s arms, of the sympathetic gasps of the other guests as he carried her across the room, or her mother’s concern as she followed the two of them out of the gallery and up to Gabriel’s office, leaving her stepfather and Rafe to deal with providing an explanation for her having fainted.
No, Bryn was aware of none of that as she slowly returned to consciousness and heard her mother and Gabriel talking softly together.
* * *
‘—should have warned her,’ Gabriel muttered disgustedly, holding Bryn’s hand tightly in his as he sat beside her limp
