an agitated hand through the dark thickness of his hair. ‘I just wanted her to have the two of you here tonight to share in her success.’
‘I know that, Gabriel,’ Mary assured gently. ‘And so will Bryn once she’s thought things through.’
‘You think?’ Gabriel knew Bryn well enough by now—knew what she thought of him only too well—to know that she was more than capable of believing he had some Machiavellian reason for inviting her mother and stepfather to the exhibition.
Because he hadn’t thought his actions through properly, should have realised the shock it would be for Bryn when Mary and Rhys arrived at the gallery this evening.
‘I think,’ Mary echoed, having now taken Gabriel’s place on the sofa beside Bryn. ‘I accept my daughter can be fiery on occasion, Gabriel—part of her Welsh heritage, I’m afraid,’ she added ruefully. ‘But she isn’t so headstrong that she will judge you unfairly. And what you’ve done for her, in regard to her inclusion in this exhibition at Archangel, and inviting Rhys and I here this evening to share in her success, was incredibly kind of you.’
‘Bryn doesn’t see me as being in the least kind,’ Gabriel drawled ruefully.
‘Oh, I think you might be pleasantly surprised at what my daughter sees in you,’ Mary murmured dryly.
Bryn knew that last remark was directed towards her rather than Gabriel, that her mother, at least, was aware Bryn had recovered from her faint but was now choosing to appear as if she hadn’t.
Mary squeezed her hand to confirm it. ‘When she wakes up you need to tell Bryn everything, Gabriel,’ she told him—and Bryn—softly. ‘She especially needs to know what you did for us five years ago, what you did to help the two of us make a new life together in Wales after William died.’
Bryn frowned at this revelation, at the same time knowing her mother’s comment ‘when she wakes up’ was pointedly directed at her.
And she did need to do that; lying here listening to this conversation was totally unfair to Gabriel. Besides, she very much wanted to hear all about what Gabriel had done for them five years ago.
Mary released Bryn’s hand before standing up. ‘You’re a good man, Gabriel,’ she told him. ‘And if you give my daughter a chance, I believe you will find she already knows that. Now, I think it’s time I returned back downstairs, and left the two of you alone to talk.’
‘But—’
‘My mother is right, Gabriel,’ Bryn spoke at the same time as she opened her eyes and looked up at them both. ‘You and I do need to talk.’ She swung her legs to the floor and sat up slowly.
‘I’m not sure you should do that just yet.’ Gabriel stepped swiftly forward and sat down on the sofa beside her before once again taking one of her hands in both of his. ‘You’re probably a bit shaky still from—’
‘Mamma?’ Bryn looked up at her mother pointedly.
Mary nodded. ‘I’m going downstairs now to bask in some of my daughter’s glory,’ she murmured indulgently. ‘No doubt I will see the two of you sometime later this evening?’
‘No doubt,’ Bryn nodded distractedly, having eyes only for Gabriel.
‘And, Bryn?’ Her mother paused in the doorway. ‘You’re wrong. Gabriel isn’t in the least “unsuitable”. In any way,’ she assured before she left the office and closed the door softly behind her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘WHAT WAS THAT about?’ Gabriel prompted.
Bryn’s vision was slightly misty with tears as she turned to look at him, knowing that her mother had been referring to the conversation the two of them had had in Wales three weeks ago, when Bryn had insisted the man she loved wasn’t suitable.
She gave a shake of her head. ‘It doesn’t matter anymore. I— Gabriel, I need to thank you for inviting my mother and Rhys here tonight. It’s made my evening so much more special.’
‘So much so you fainted, damn it,’ Gabriel grated self-disgustedly.
Bryn held on to his hand as he would have pulled away and stood up. ‘I want you to stay right here,’ she told him firmly as he looked at her questioningly. ‘I need to say some things to you, and I want you to be next to me when I say them.’
A frown appeared between his eyes. ‘Am I going to need some of my single-malt whisky to get through this?’ he drawled.
‘I don’t believe so, no.’ She smiled ruefully, drawing in a deep breath before speaking again. ‘I’ll admit, when I first realised my mother and Rhys were really here—rather than just a figment of my food-deprived, champagne-induced imagination—that I wondered why you had done it. I only wondered for the briefest of moments, Gabriel,’ she assured as his frown darkened. ‘The very briefest of moments,’ she repeated firmly, ‘before my knowledge of you told me that your reason for doing it would be a good one rather than a bad one.’
‘Actually, it was purely selfish.’ Gabriel grimaced; he wanted this woman so badly he was willing to do anything—anything—to get her.
Bryn gave a firm shake of her head. ‘I don’t believe that.’
‘Oh, but it was. You kept insisting that there could never be anything between the two of us because of how your mother might react if she knew, and so I decided to eliminate that objection, at least.’
Bryn looked at him searchingly for several long seconds before a slow smile curved her lips. ‘I accept that might have been one of the reasons, Gabriel—’
‘Oh, believe me, it was the prime reason,’ he assured her grimly.
Her smile didn’t even waver. ‘You like people to think you’re tough and uncaring, don’t you?’
‘I am tough and—’
‘You are most certainly not uncaring,’ she insisted firmly. ‘And you may manage to convince other people that you are, but I think you should know I haven’t fallen for it for some time now. Not since I realised I was in love with you,’ she added softly.
‘Bryn?’ Gabriel’s hand tightened about hers.
‘Don’t worry, I’m not saying that with any expectation of you returning the sentiment,’ she assured ruefully. ‘I just think you should know, before we start our affair, that I’ve realised since meeting you again that I fell in love with you five years ago—’
‘You— What affair?’ Gabriel demanded sharply as he released her hand before standing up.
‘—and that I’m still in love with you,’ Bryn continued determinedly. ‘And that I have no intention of having any sort of relationship with you now and pretending that I’m not—’
‘Bryn, did you really just say you fell in love with me five years ago?’ he repeated dazedly.
‘I did, yes,’ she admitted wryly. ‘And the reason I’m telling you this now is because I want you to know how I feel before
