then drove to her parents’ house—to find neither of them there and the house in darkness.
On top of everything that had been going on this could only mean bad news—which was confirmed when she called her father on his mobile to be told that they were at the hospital.
‘Your mother had a turn.’
He was holding it together, but with difficulty. Lucy could hear that down the phone line.
‘I didn’t want to worry you. You’ve been worried enough already. At any rate, they’re doing tests, but they think she may have had a mild panic attack. They’ll keep her in overnight. There’s no need to get yourself into a tizzy about it….’
But that was easier said than done.
In the space of a couple of days her world had shifted on its axis. Her comfortable routine had been blown apart.
At the hospital, exhausted after a day’s worth of travelling, Lucy was cheered to hear that her mother had indeed suffered only a mild panic attack, but when the doctor took her aside, with her father, and gravely told them that they should make sure that Celia was kept as stress-free as possible, she could only think of that offer Gabriel had made.
What price high-minded principles when her mother was lying on a hospital bed and her father was staring down the barrel of a gun?
Would it be the end of the world for her? Was she really prepared to sacrifice her parents for the wonderful prize of her virginity?
It was dark by the time she eventually made it back to her cottage. After a day cooped up indoors Freddy was raring for some fun and she spent half an hour outside with him. Her mind was clouded with anxiety as she threw his ball and watched as he fetched it, romping back to her triumphantly and waiting so that the exercise could be repeated.
Lucy knew what she had to do, but it wasn’t going to be easy.
And yet the memory of that searing kiss leapt into her head and her heart began to pound.
The palms of her hands were clammy when, an hour later, after she had tried and failed to have something to eat, she tapped Gabriel’s number into her telephone.
The business card he had given her displayed a dizzying array of numbers but he had handwritten his cell number, which probably meant that it was a number only released to a small number of privileged people. She figured that the women who had that number probably thought they had won the lottery.
He picked up on the third ring and immediately she wondered where he was. At the office? In his house or apartment, or whatever expensive pad he called home? It certainly wouldn’t be a quaint little house in the suburbs!
‘It’s me. It’s Lucy. Lucy Robins. I came to see you at your off—’
‘My memory is in perfect working order,’ Gabriel said drily. He had literally just stepped through the front door of his sprawling house in Kensington. It was the one of the most prestigious houses in one of the most prestigious roads in London.
He began removing his tie, heading to the kitchen to pour himself a whisky. Amazing. Even the sound of her voice had an invigorating effect on his libido.
‘I’m taking it you’ve had a little think about the conversation we had today…?’ he encouraged, when her awkward, stammering introduction was followed by complete silence.
‘Yes, I have.’
‘And you’ve come to what conclusion? That your father is to face those cruel, unforgiving and heartless scales of justice and reap his due rewards?’
‘No…’
That single monosyllable sounded as though it had been dragged out of her, but Gabriel was unperturbed by that. Had she really been as repulsed by him as she had tried to convince him then the offer would have been withdrawn. But she wasn’t. Reaching for a glass, he smiled to himself—the satisfied smile of a predator that has successfully corralled its prey and can look forward to enjoying the catch.
‘Maybe we can talk,’ she muttered.
‘Count on it. I’ll be with you tomorrow.’ Some meetings would have to be rearranged, but she was a prize that would be worth that small inconvenience.
‘No!’ Lucy was alone in the cottage, but she still looked guiltily around her—as though at any moment the walls might decide to spout ears. Have Gabriel swan down to Somerset? She could think of nothing worse! There was no way she would ever let her parents suspect that she had struck this deal. They would be horrified. It would be her shameful secret and would have to be kept exclusively in London. A shameful weekend secret. It was the only way. ‘I… I can come to London at the weekend…’
‘Not sure I can wait that long.’
‘Please. It’s only two days away. If you give me your address…or better still we could meet at…a restaurant…or something…’
‘I’ll text you my address.’ Anticipation roared through him as it never had before. ‘When I see you I don’t want anyone around.’ He was already thinking of that slender, loose-limbed body, as graceful as a dancer’s. He would definitely have to have a cold shower tonight. ‘I can’t wait….’
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