sexuality and he hadn’t changed. No, he had changed. Power and wealth had hardened the ferociously handsome features of his face and the eyes staring at her were cold and assessing. A wave of nausea rushed over her.
‘You look a little pale. Take a sip of your wine.’ His voice snapped her out of her memories and brought her crashing back to reality. ‘Please accept my sympathies on the death of your father,’ he said, observing her coolly, whilst his fingers stroked the side of his glass.
‘Thank you.’ Laura paused to take a sip of wine. ‘I see you…you’ve done very well. I had no idea…’
‘That a poor boy like me working to make ends meet so that he could afford to complete his university course would turn out good in the end?’
‘That’s not what I was going to say. How is your father?’
‘Back in Argentina and doing very well.’
‘And you? How are you? Are you married? Children?’ In her head, he had never married. Laura realised, with shock, that he had been in her head ever since he had stormed out of her life. She had allowed herself to be persuaded by her parents that his disappearance had been for the best, that she had her future, that they had never been suited, that she would forget him in time, but she hadn’t forgotten him. And her memories of him were still of the raw youth who had swept her off her feet. Not of this man sitting in front of her with the world at his fingertips.
Gabriel’s jaw hardened. Married? Children? Those were dreams he had nurtured a long time ago, dreams he had uselessly expended on the woman floundering in the chair opposite him. He had been naïve enough at the time to imagine that she had shared those dreams. Until reality had kicked him in the face and he had been forced to swallow the bitter truth that he had been nothing but an amusing plaything for a rich young girl. Her dreams of happy families had not included wedding a poor Argentinian. Not enough class. His hand tightened around his glass and he quickly swallowed the remainder of his drink.
‘No,’ he said abruptly. He signalled to the waiter for menus and, after they had placed their orders, he sat back in his chair and loosely linked his fingers on his lap. ‘So…our fortunes have changed, have they not? Seven years ago, eating out at a restaurant like this would have been out of my reach.’ His dark eyes gave a quick glance around their expensive surroundings before returning to her face. ‘Who would have ever imagined that here I would one day sit, with you opposite me, in the role of…what shall we call it, Laura? Penitent?’
‘Why are you so bitter?’ Laura’s eyes met his and skittered away in a rush of helpless confusion. ‘It’s been years…’ She sighed. ‘Look, I don’t want to rake over old ground. Phillip tells me that you’re interested in buying the riding stables. I might as well warn you that they’re not what they used to be.’ She wished desperately that he would stop staring at her.
‘Why am I so bitter…?’ he mused. His voice was lazy and thoughtful, but his dark eyes were coldly hostile and a shiver of dread slithered down Laura’s spine. ‘Why do you think I’m bitter?’
‘Because your pride was dented when…’ Her voice faltered and she nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
‘Say it, Laura,’ he commanded silkily. ‘After all, it has been a long time since we last set eyes on one another. What could be more natural than to go over old ground?’
‘What’s the point of all of this?’ She whipped her napkin from her lap and flattened it with the palm of her hand on the table. ‘Do you have any intention of buying the stables, Gabriel, or did you decide to get me here so that you could watch me squirm? Humiliate me because I once turned down your proposal of marriage?’ There. It was out and they stared at one another in lengthening silence.
She would not allow him the satisfaction of playing cat and mouse with her. He had no intention of buying any stables. He had simply used that as a pretext to get her here so that he could spend a few hours watching her squirm because she had wounded his volatile, Argentinian pride.
‘I’m going.’ She stood up and scooped up her handbag from the table. ‘I don’t have to stay and suffer this.’
‘You’re not going anywhere!’ His voice cracked against her like a whip and she glared down at the impossibly handsome, ruthless face staring back at her with narrowed eyes.
‘You can’t tell me what I can and cannot do, Gabriel!’ She leaned over, squaring her hands on the table, her body thrust towards him. It was a mistake. It brought her too close to him, too close to that sexy mouth of his and, as if sensing it, he smiled slowly.
‘Times really have changed, in that case,’ he murmured, his black eyes flicking to her parted lips, then dipping to view the heavy breasts gently bouncing beneath the cardigan. ‘I remember when I could tell you exactly what to do, and you enjoyed every little instruction, if I recall…’
Bright pink feathered into Laura’s cheeks as their eyes tangled and she drew her breath in sharply.
‘But…’ he was still smiling, although his expression was cool and closed ‘…that’s not what this is all about, is it? This is about the riding stables, which is why you are going to sit back down, like a good little girl. This is about your future, and believe me when I tell you that you have no choice but to endure my company.’
Laura felt all the energy drain out of her. He had the upper hand. Whatever card she pulled out of the pack, he carried the trump. The fact that he loathed the sight of her was something she would have to grit her teeth and put up with because he was right, she had no choice.
‘That’s better,’ he drawled, when she had returned to her seat. ‘Now, I propose that we discuss this over lunch in the manner of two civilised adults.’
‘I am more than happy to do so, Gabriel. You’re the one who’s intent on dragging the past up at every opportunity.’ She was still trembling as she sat back and allowed the large oval plate of filleted sole to be placed in front of her. It smelled delicious, but her appetite seemed to have utterly deserted her. ‘Perhaps we could agree to call a truce on discussing the past,’ Laura intoned tightly.
‘You are not in a position to offer agreements on anything.’ He had ordered the halibut and he dug his fork into the white flesh, savouring the delicate flavour. He should have been delighted to have won this round, to have pulled the plug on her outburst and forced her to obey him, but, aggravatingly, there was no such sense of satisfaction. He stabbed another mouthful of food into his mouth. ‘But let us get to the matter in hand. What is the position with the riding stables?’
‘You know what the position is. It’s a mess. Phillip must have explained all of that to your accountant or whoever the man was who made the phone call.’
‘How much of a mess?’
‘A lot of a mess,’ Laura confessed grudgingly and half-heartedly continued eating. Her stomach felt inclined to rebel at the food being shovelled into it, but she would not let him get to her again. ‘The racehorses have all gone. Sold. Four years ago. Most of the other horses were removed over time. I still have a few, but I doubt I shall be able to hang onto them for much longer. And the house…well…it’s still standing, but just.’
‘What happened?’
‘Are you really interested?’ Her eyes flashed at him. She couldn’t help it. ‘Or do you want all the grisly details for your scrapbook on how much the Jackson family fell? So that you
