‘Very well.’ Clara opened the small wardrobe behind her chair and took out a hospital dressing gown. Gabriel operated the controls on the bed, getting to his feet slowly and pulling the dressing gown on, tying it firmly at the waist. He took a couple of steps and then waved her away.
‘Good enough for you?’
‘No, you look a little unsteady.’ If he wanted honesty, that was exactly what she’d give him.
‘How’s this, then?’ He walked across the room, obviously making an effort to pull himself out of the cloying arms of the drug. ‘While you’re giving me a little privacy you can go and ask the doctor if he can prescribe something for this headache.’
He rattled off a list of painkillers and anti-emetics. He must feel pretty awful.
‘Or I could tell him that you have a headache and that you feel sick, and see what he suggests.’ Most doctors didn’t much like their patients telling them what to prescribe.
‘I’ll leave you to phrase the request tactfully.’ He gave Clara a brisk farewell nod, which indicated that her next move was to leave the room and close the door behind her.
* * *
When he’d been lying down, Gabriel’s main concern had been to get Clara out of the room before he asked her into the shower with him to scrub his back. He felt a lot more in control of himself now, but it was impossible to tell whether the effects of the flunitrazepam might loosen his tongue again. Or the effects of Clara Holt’s dazzling blue eyes.
As soon as he was on his feet, though, another reason for wanting to be alone asserted itself. The pounding in his head became almost unbearable, and as soon as the door closed behind her, he rushed into the bathroom. His stomach was empty but still it twisted into knots as he fell to his knees, retching violently.
Shaking, and covered in a cold sweat, he got to his feet, flushing away the evidence. Gabriel rinsed his mouth, trying to get rid of the taste left by the charcoal, and looked at his reflection in the mirror. Why did he have to meet the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen today, of all days?
But Clara Holt wasn’t just a beautiful woman. She had the answer to a number of key questions. He’d take this slow and steady. One thing at a time. And the first thing was to have a shower and get dressed.
* * *
He didn’t remember selecting the clothes that were folded neatly on a chair, and was reasonably sure he wouldn’t have put that shirt with those trousers. Perhaps Grant and Sara had been back to his house, they had a spare key. Yet another question.
When he opened the door to his room, Clara was standing right outside it, holding a clipboard and the medication he’d asked for. She took advantage of his instinctive move to stand aside for her, and walked back into the room, closing the door behind her.
‘You’re looking better.’ Her smile was kind, but just enough to let him know that she was happy with the way things were going, rather than giving any indication that she was here for her own pleasure.
‘Thank you. It’s good of you to say so.’ Gabriel sat down on the bed, picking up the half-bottle of water that Clara had left on the table, and she tipped the tablets from the dispenser into his hand.
‘I’ll be better when these kick in. And when I get home.’ If Clara had any thoughts of taking him anywhere else, she could think again. Gabriel had an almost irrational longing to be able to shut his front door behind him and come to terms with all of this.
‘You’ll be needing these.’ She reached into her handbag, which was large enough to contain all manner of things and probably did, and produced his keys and his wallet.
‘Thanks. You have my phone?’
‘Your father gave us permission to send it to our labs and get it checked over for any... intrusions.’
Gabriel rolled his eyes, regretting the movement almost immediately as pain shot through his temples. ‘And how long did my father say you could keep it?’
‘I’ll make sure you have it back tomorrow morning.’ She had the grace to sound a little embarrassed about it.
He’d argue that one out later. And since Clara was obviously acting on instructions, he’d take the less inviting option of sorting the matter out with his father, and not her.
‘Okay, fair enough. Can we go now?’
Clara nodded. ‘Yes. Ian Anderson’s outside. I think you know him.’
‘Yes, I know him.’ Ian drove his father when he was in London, and Gabriel knew and liked him. It seemed that Clara had done her homework and was making a comprehensive effort to reassure him. ‘Is a doctor available to discharge me?’
‘No need for that. You can leave whenever you feel up to it, you just need to sign this form.’ She put the clipboard on the bed beside him.
He read the form. Advice on possible complications after ingesting drugs...he knew that. Counselling and other follow-up...he’d take that under advisement. Clara handed him a pen and he scribbled his name at the bottom of the form.
‘Is that it?’ This was far more straightforward than usual, even for a private facility.
‘Yes, that’s it. Are you ready?’
He was more than ready. He followed Clara out of the room, nodding to Ian, who fell into step behind them. She handed the clipboard to a nurse at the reception desk, who gave him a smile before Clara hurried him away. Outside, an SUV with tinted windows drew up, and Ian opened the back door, waiting for Gabriel and Clara to climb in, before he rounded the car and got into the front passenger seat.
They were well organised, he had to give them that. But the overwhelming probability was that this was all some kind of mistake, and that his father had done the expected and overreacted. Gabriel closed his eyes, leaning back on the leather seat, as the car drew away.
‘I assume the bill’s paid. I’d hate to think we were doing a runner.’ He decided that teasing her a little couldn’t hurt, and it made all of this seem a bit more normal.
‘Yes, we’ve paid.’ Her voice betrayed a hint of humour. ‘It’ll be itemised on your account when you receive it.’
‘Good. And who did you tell them you were? Mata Hari?’ In truth she didn’t have the air of a femme fatale, although she could probably pull the look off without any trouble at all. But his father’s protection officers generally blended into the background, only betraying their presence when needed. In her summer dress and low heels, Clara could easily have passed for a concerned girlfriend. A very attractive one at that.
‘I said I was a friend.’
‘One who’s armed and dangerous?’ Gabriel opened his eyes. The accompanying pain in his head was a small price for taking another look at her.
‘No. Carrying a concealed weapon would be illegal.’ She gave him a bright smile. ‘I can be dangerous, though, if I put my mind to it.’
He’d take a bet on it. Gabriel was under no illusions that Clara Holt’s smile could be extremely dangerous,
