turned away and with a shaky hand that was a dead giveaway she unlocked the door to a suite of offices with a sign reading Events by Eileen—The Events Organizer.
He followed her through the main reception area and into another office, taking in the plush carpet and quality furniture and fittings. “You seem to have done well for yourself.”
She walked around the desk and stood with her back to the large glass window, a breathtaking view of the Sydney Harbor Bridge and Opera House behind her. “Let’s not pretend you don’t already know all about me, Damien. I’m sure whatever report you had done on me must have told you what I do and who I work for.” She crossed her arms, her face closed. “Just say what you have to say.”
So. She was going to play it cool now, was she? It didn’t surprise him. She’d always been a mixture of fire and ice. It was one of the things he’d liked about her—all that passion beneath a cool exterior.
He inclined his head at the high-backed leather chair behind her desk. “You might want to sit.”
“I’d rather stand,” she said, but her shoulders went back, as if preparing for a blow.
There was no easy way to say this. “Your father’s had a stroke, Gabrielle,” he said, hearing her gasp, seeing the shock she couldn’t hide now. “It caused a cerebral hemorrhage in his brain. It was touch-and-go so they had to operate.”
She swallowed hard. “Is he…”
“No, he’s not dead. They’re hopeful he’ll pull through and will recover fully in time.”
“Oh God,” she murmured, all pretence gone now as she finally sank onto her chair.
He watched her, seeing the whiteness of her skin and the way she bit her bottom lip, and he knew he’d done the right thing by coming to get her. “My private jet’s ready when you are.”
She blinked up at him. “What?”
“You’ll be coming home to Darwin to see your father.”
She shook her head. “No…I can’t.”
His mouth thinned. “He’s your father, Gabrielle.”
She made a choking sound. “Obviously that hasn’t worried him too much these past five years.”
It was one thing to ignore your father’s existence when he was in good health, but Russell had come close to death. It was time they sorted things out between them. Damien had told Russell the same thing not long before his stroke, when the other man appeared to be fretting over the loss of his daughter. Perhaps Russell sensed something had been about to happen.
“You were the one who walked out on him,” he pointed out. “Your father found that hard to forgive.”
“Perhaps I find it hard to forgive a few things, too,” she said, remaining firm.
He was instantly alert. “Such as?”
A wary look suddenly entered her eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Obviously it does or you wouldn’t have mentioned it.”
She looked across the desk at him. “Nothing can change the past now. Let’s just say that when I left home five years ago I never looked back.”
He arched a brow. “Never? I find that hard to believe.”
She shrugged her slim shoulders and leaned back in her chair. “That’s your problem, Damien. Not mine.”
Her comment irritated him. “You walked out on me, too,” he reminded her silkily.
Her chin rose in the air. “And did you find that hard to forgive?”
His jaw clenched. “Your note was sufficient.”
“I’m glad you think so,” she said with a touch of sarcasm.
He scowled as her comment slammed into him. “You said you wanted to end our affair,” he reminded her. “You also said not to try and change your mind.”
“And it suited you to believe me, didn’t it?”
“Are you saying you lied?” he demanded, his stomach knotting.
Her eyelids flickered, as if she knew she was in dangerous waters. She sighed. “No. It was the truth. It was over between us.”
He stared hard for a moment as something centered inside his chest. Things were far from over between them. He’d subconsciously realized that when she’d stepped out of the elevator and walked toward him like a vision from heaven.
“No, I don’t think it was over at all,” he said quietly.
She stiffened. “Really? You obviously didn’t think that at the time.”
“True. But we had other priorities back then.”
She inclined her head but couldn’t hide a hint of relief in her eyes. “Yes, we both had a lot of things going on in our lives.”
“And I let that get in the way of what was important.” He paused. “Things have changed.”
She looked startled. “Changed?”
Now that he’d seen her again, he would have to work her out of his system. In the most pleasurable way, of course.
“It’s time to come home, Gabrielle. Your father needs you.” Hell, he suddenly needed her, too.
Her gaze dropped, and she began to smooth her palms over the front of her silky jacket. Then she looked up as if making a decision. “I’m sorry. Please tell my father I wish him well, but I won’t be coming back.”
That wasn’t acceptable. “And if he dies?”
She winced, then whispered, “Don’t.”
He couldn’t let himself soften toward her. Not right now. He had a job to do. “You have to face facts. Your father is seriously ill. He needs to see you.”
“Damien, I can’t…I…”
“Not even for your mother’s sake?”
Her mouth dropped open, her eyes widened. “Wh-what? My mother? When did you talk to my mother?”
“Caroline came home a couple of days ago when she heard about your father’s stroke.”
Gabrielle clenched her hands together. “No, she would never forgive him.” Her mother would never have gone back to her father. When Caroline left, she’d sworn the marriage was over forever.
“She did. And I think you should, too.”
“You’re lying. This is a trick.”
“No tricks, I swear. Gabrielle, your mother asked that I come and get you. She needs you right now.”
