before Eva and Mario arrived. Since she was supposed to be Gabriel’s fiancée, it would look a little strange if she didn’t even know where the bathroom was.
Gabriel had gone upstairs, so she figured it was safe enough to open doors downstairs. On her second try she found a small gleaming bathroom. As she closed the door, the front doorbell buzzed.
Adrenaline arrowed through her veins as she walked to the door and opened it. She wasn’t ready; she hadn’t had time to look through kitchen cupboards or work out the stereo, but it was too late now. When she opened the door, an ultrasexy and quite lovely brunette stepped inside, carrying a frosted bottle of champagne.
A small frown pleated her brow when she saw Gemma. “Hello. Are you a friend of Gabriel’s?”
Gemma took a deep breath. “Actually, I’m his fiancée.”
Shock registered in her gaze. Her eyes dropped to Gemma’s left hand. “He gave you the Fabergé.”
When she didn’t say anything more, Gemma calmly asked if there was anyone else to come in. When Eva indicated there wasn’t, that her father was arriving later, she closed the door. “Gabriel’s, uh, just in the shower. Come through and I’ll get you a drink.”
That was, if she could find the glasses.
Eva strolled to the kitchen, not waiting for Gemma. “How long have you known Gabriel?”
Gemma almost gave a sigh of relief. At least this part was easy enough. “Years. Most of my life, actually.”
“Then you must be from Dolphin Bay.”
Gemma began opening cupboard doors, looking for glasses. “Yes.”
Eva frowned, somehow managing to look even more gorgeous. “You look familiar. Maybe I’ve seen you at a family gathering?”
Gemma pretended not to hear that one. Finally, she found wineglasses and set them on the counter. When she picked up the bottle of wine, thankfully it had a screw top so she didn’t have to search for a corkscrew.
Eva took the glass of wine she poured and walked into the lounge to stare out at the view. “If you were at Constantine’s wedding, maybe I saw you there.”
Gemma studied the taut expression of Eva’s face, the combative stance. “I wasn’t at Constantine’s wedding.”
“But you know him?”
“Yes, I do.” Gemma bit her tongue against the urge to supply more information, just in case Eva guessed who she really was.
Feeling stressed, and wishing Gabriel would hurry up and come down, she bypassed the wine and poured herself a glass of water instead. The way the night was going, she was going to have to keep her wits about her.
Eva returned to the kitchen counter and set her glass of wine down. “I hope you don’t mind if I put on some music? Gabriel’s got a great collection of jazz.”
Gemma tried for her best neutral smile, the one she used to soothe prickly clients. “Be my guest.”
As soon as Eva disappeared into another smaller lounge, evidently the place where the stereo system was to be found, Gemma started up the stairs. As she reached the top, Gabriel stepped out of the shower, a snowy white towel wrapped around his waist. “Eva and Mario are here?”
Loud music began to play. Gemma raised her voice. “Just Eva and a bottle of champagne. Apparently Mario’s coming later.”
He dragged the fingers of one hand through his damp hair. “Champagne? Damn, there must be something in the air.”
Eva’s voice drifted up from the bottom of the stairs, her face vivid and engaging. “Dad’s got a meeting. He’ll be here in half an hour.” She frowned. “Gabriel...you didn’t tell me you were getting engaged.”
“It’s only just happened,” he said smoothly, and pulled Gemma close.
Her hands skidded over his damp abdomen as she found herself plastered against his side. His arm came around her, clamping her tight against him. Before she could protest, Gabriel dropped a light kiss on her mouth, then she was free.
* * *
If the drinks were difficult, dinner was worse.
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