Hired to protect him...

Now she’s falling for him!

In this London Heroes story, protecting Dr. Gabriel DeMarco from a threat against his family is no-nonsense bodyguard Clara Holt’s most challenging assignment yet. The Italian billionaire is distractingly gorgeous and determined to put his patients before his own safety! Clara vowed never again to risk mixing her career with romance. Only, while she’s busy protecting him, Gabriel’s busy breaking down the walls around her heart...

Cursed with a poor sense of direction and a propensity to read, ANNIE CLAYDON spent much of her childhood lost in books. A degree in English Literature followed by a career in computing didn’t lead directly to her perfect job—writing romance for Mills & Boon—but she has no regrets in taking the scenic route. She lives in London: a city where getting lost can be a joy.

Also by Annie Claydon

Saving Baby Amy

Forbidden Night with the Duke

Healed by the Single Dad Doc

From Doctor to Princess?

Firefighter’s Christmas Baby

Resisting Her English Doc

London Heroes miniseries

Falling for Her Italian Billionaire

Second Chance with the Single Mum

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Falling for Her Italian Billionaire

Annie Claydon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08999-9

FALLING FOR HER ITALIAN BILLIONAIRE

© 2019 Annie Claydon

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

GABRIEL DEMARCO OPENED his eyes. That seemed to be quite enough work for today, so he closed them again.

‘How are you feeling?’ A woman’s voice flowed over him like warm honey. It was a nice voice, quiet yet firm. The kind of voice that any man should take notice of.

‘I could go back to sleep.’ The words slipped out before he had a chance to tell himself that sleeping probably wasn’t what the voice wanted him to do. And at the moment it seemed like a siren’s call, which couldn’t be resisted. ‘Or... I could wake up.’

It sounded as if the voice was smiling. ‘Why don’t you wake up? You’re in hospital.’

Really? The thought didn’t bother him as much as it should. He was comfortable and relaxed, as if lying on a cloud. He tried opening his eyes and light seared through his brain, making his head hurt. He’d just have to keep them closed for a while...

‘Which hospital?’ Not that it mattered particularly. But talking might convince the voice that he’d complied with her request.

‘The Royal Westminster. You’re in the private wing.’

That made sense. Someone must know who he was, and that the son of Leo DeMarco, head of one of the biggest pharmaceutical companies in Europe, could stand the cost of a night’s stay in hospital. Or maybe he’d been here longer than just one night. Gabriel couldn’t remember.

He flexed his fingers, running his hand across his chest and then moving his legs. Everything appeared to be working. No pain. Whatever he was in here for was probably very minor...

‘Open your eyes.’

No... He didn’t want to. Maybe he said as much, without knowing it, or maybe the voice just read his mind, because he felt the touch of a hand against the side of his face.

‘Come on. Open your eyes.’

He couldn’t resist. This time the pain wasn’t so bad, because the hand was shading his face. When he turned his head in the direction of the voice, a mass of red-blonde curls and a pair of blue eyes snapped suddenly into focus. What had happened to him suddenly came a very poor second in importance to who she was.

‘What’s your name? Are you a nurse?’ Stupid question. She wore a dark blue sleeveless summer dress, which seemed to be held together by a few buttons and a belt around her waist. Clearly not a nurse unless they’d changed the uniform from sensible to sexy.

‘My name’s Clara Holt. I’m not a nurse, although I’m medically trained. Your father sent me.’

His father? Since when had he started sending women to sit at Gabriel’s bedside? The thought occurred to him that maybe his father had, for once, made a marvellous choice. She was perfezione...molto bella... Porcelain skin and shining gold hair. Right now, making the gorgeous Clara happy was all he wanted to do...

‘Grazie.’ Her lips curved into a slight smile. He’d missed out her lips, and that was unforgivable...

‘You speak Italian?’

‘Only a few words.’

She knew the ones that mattered. Every woman should understand the words a man said when he called her beautiful.

Wait. How many of his thoughts had sprung to his lips by mistake, and what language had he voiced them in? The feeling that this wasn’t right was beginning to nag at the edge of his consciousness. If he thought a woman beautiful, he usually had the manners to wait, and make quite sure it was the kind of compliment she wanted to hear.

Gabriel shook his head, trying to clear it, and struggled to sit up. Pain shot across his temples and he suddenly felt very nauseous. The wonderful Clara reached out, gently pushing him back down onto the pillows.

‘You’ll feel better in a moment, just take it slowly.’

She was an angel. Clara could take him up to her cloud any day of the week and...

No! He still wasn’t thinking straight. He fought to locate a sensible question in his head, and came up with only one.

‘What’s the matter with me?’

* * *

This was to be expected. Gabriel was still struggling with the residual effects of the drug in his bloodstream. His impulse control was impaired, and when the feeling of well-being started to wear off he’d be experiencing the worst hangover he’d ever had.

It was best to stick to the basic facts for the moment and leave the rest until he was a little more able to get his head around it. Gabriel was clearly not quite in control of his tongue yet, and if the most important thing on his mind was that she was beautiful, then that was just a sign that he hadn’t woken up properly. The shiver that his words had produced was both unnecessary and inappropriate.

‘You’re going to be all right.’ Clara decided to skip the part about what was wrong with him.

‘Am I? Really?’ He frowned.

‘Yes, you are. You might have a headache and you probably don’t remember what happened last night—’

‘Yes. I have a headache. And I don’t have a clue how I got here.’

‘The disorientation will pass, too.’

‘When...?’

‘Soon. You’re going to be fine.’ Clara reached into her bag, taking out one of the plastic bottles she’d brought with her and cracking open the seal. ‘Would you like some water?’

His gaze seemed to be following her every move. ‘Yes, please...’

She opened the packet of drinking straws from her bag, putting one into the bottle and leaning over to hold it close to his mouth. His fingers closed around hers, light and caressing. His touch was just as electrifying as his words had been.

But she wasn’t here to experience the delights of Gabriel DeMarco’s dark gaze. If all the rumours were true, there were more than enough women who were happy to share those things with him. She had a job to do and when her boss had called her at one o’clock this morning, it had been immediately obvious that being chosen for this was an opportunity. A high-profile client, in an extremely sensitive situation.

‘Take it easy. Not too much...’ He was gulping the water down as fast as the straw would allow, and she pulled the bottle away from him for a moment. His fingers tightened around hers, stopping her from taking the bottle back completely.

‘Thank you. May I have some more, please.’

‘Slowly, this time.’

He drank again, and when the bottle was half-empty he let her take it away from him. ‘You know I’m a doctor?’

‘Yes, I do.’ Gabriel DeMarco’s file contained a lot more information than that about him.

‘Then you’ll know that I’ll understand whatever you tell me about my medical condition.’

The facts, maybe. The hows and the whys, probably not. But he seemed to be getting more and more agitated and it was clear that he wasn’t going to just rely on her and go with the flow. Clara had to think carefully, and give him the information he needed without sending him into a panic.

‘You inadvertently ingested a drug last night. It’s not done you any lasting harm, but you’ll be feeling a little groggy for a while.’

‘What drug?’ Clara hesitated and he reached for the call button at the side of the bed. ‘If you won’t tell me...’

‘All right.’ The last thing she wanted was any contact with the doctors and nurses, beyond what was medically necessary. The fewer people who remembered him being here the better. ‘Flunitrazepam.’

His hand moved to his face, massaging his temples with his fingers and thumb, as if he was trying to get his brain to work.

‘It’s not possible to inadvertently ingest flunitrazepam. It’s manufactured with a blue dye these days, with the specific aim of making it difficult to slip into someone’s drink.’ His fingers wandered to his throat as a thought seemed to occur to him.

‘You have a sore throat? That’s because you were given activated charcoal last night by feeding tube. Your friends, Dr and Mrs Goodman, were with you the whole time, until I arrived.’ Clara tried to reassure him. The uncomfortable realisation that something had happened last night and he had no memory of it was going to dawn on him any moment now.

‘I remember... I think. I was going to Grant and Sara’s place for dinner. Where are they?’

‘They’re at home. Sleeping, I imagine, I didn’t arrive here until four in the morning.’

‘And what exactly is your part in this, Clara?’

He was rapidly coming to his senses. She was no longer the angel with the beautiful hair, she was someone who had to justify her presence to him. It was almost a disappointment, but in professional terms it was probably just as well. Clara reached into her bag for the bundle of identification papers.

‘I work for Gladstone and Sullivan Securities. You recognise the name...?’

‘Of course. My father’s company has used you for years.’ He frowned suddenly. ‘Please tell me I haven’t done anything that requires that level of discretion.’

‘You’ve done nothing wrong.’ Clara handed him the documents. The answer to the question of why exactly he needed security was an awkward one and should probably wait until he was recovered enough to handle it.

He flipped open her passport, glancing at it, and then took his time reading the faxed letter of introduction. ‘My father sent this at two in the morning. Clearly he thinks the situation is serious.’ Gabriel came straight to the realisation that Clara was hoping he’d overlook.

‘I’m sure you must know that anything connected with your well-being is considered serious.’ Clara skirted the issue. ‘The two most important things for you to know are who I am, and that I have the situation fully under control.’

‘I’d prefer it if I had the situation fully under control. And since you’re obviously leaving out a few important details, I think the next thing I need to do is to get out of here and find someone who will tell me what’s going on.’

Clara’s clients fell broadly into two categories. The ones who didn’t want to know, and those who wanted to know everything. She generally preferred the latter, but it brought different challenges, and it was clear that Gabriel DeMarco had decided to be as challenging as possible.

‘I’ll be happy to tell you everything. We have a hotel suite for you nearby—’

‘What’s the matter with my house? Not fallen down during the night, has it?’

‘No, your house is fine...’

‘Good. I’m fine and so is my house.’ He shot her a look that left her under no illusions that he’d believe her reassurances a little better when he had concrete proof. ‘So I’m sure you won’t have any objections to my going there.’

Clara took a breath. ‘I’d advise—’

‘No, you don’t get to do that. I’m going home and if you want to accompany me and tell me exactly what’s going on, you’re welcome to do so. Then you can advise me and I’ll decide whether to take that advice.’

He sat up slowly, reaching for the controls for the bed. He must still be feeling very groggy, but that wasn’t going to stop him.

‘All right. I have a car outside, and we’ll take you there.’

‘Okay, thanks. I’ll take a shower and get dressed...’ He waited, obviously expecting Clara to leave the room.

‘Let me help you.’

‘I can manage...’

‘And I’m tasked with your safety, Dr DeMarco. Letting you fall over and crack your head open on the bathroom floor isn’t anywhere on my agenda.’

The thought of telling him that she doubted he had anything she hadn’t already seen hundreds of times before leapt to the tip of her tongue and stopped there. The flimsy hospital gown couldn’t disguise a pair of strong shoulders. Gabriel DeMarco had a good physique, made even better by dark hair and melting brown eyes in a face made proud by high cheekbones. She doubted if she’d seen anything quite like him before.

He smiled slowly. ‘That’s a bit more like it. We’ll get along far better if you’re straight with me. And while you’re about it, call me Gabriel. I have a feeling that knowing more about my last sixteen hours than I do justifies first names.’

‘Very well.’ Clara opened the small wardrobe behind her chair and took out a hospital dressing gown. Gabriel operated the controls on the bed, getting to his feet slowly and pulling the dressing gown on, tying it firmly at the waist. He took a couple of steps and then waved her away.

‘Good enough for you?’

‘No, you look a little unsteady.’ If he wanted honesty, that was exactly what she’d give him.

‘How’s this, then?’ He walked across the room, obviously making an effort to pull himself out of the cloying arms of the drug. ‘While you’re giving me a little privacy you can go and ask the doctor if he can prescribe something for this headache.’

He rattled off a list of painkillers and anti-emetics. He must feel pretty awful.

‘Or I could tell him that you have a headache and that you feel sick, and see what he suggests.’ Most doctors didn’t much like their patients telling them what to prescribe.

‘I’ll leave you to phrase the request tactfully.’ He gave Clara a brisk farewell nod, which indicated that her next move was to leave the room and close the door behind her.

* * *

When he’d been lying down, Gabriel’s main concern had been to get Clara out of the room before he asked her into the shower with him to scrub his back. He felt a lot more in control of himself now, but it was impossible to tell whether the effects of the flunitrazepam might loosen his tongue again. Or the effects of Clara Holt’s dazzling blue eyes.

As soon as he was on his feet, though, another reason for wanting to be alone asserted itself. The pounding in his head became almost unbearable, and as soon as the door closed behind her, he rushed into the bathroom. His stomach was empty but still it twisted into knots as he fell to his knees, retching violently.

Shaking, and covered in a cold sweat, he got to his feet, flushing away the evidence. Gabriel rinsed his mouth, trying to get rid of the taste left by the charcoal, and looked at his reflection in the mirror. Why did he have to meet the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen today, of all days?

But Clara Holt wasn’t just a beautiful woman. She had the answer to a number of key questions. He’d take this slow and steady. One thing at a time. And the first thing was to have a shower and get dressed.

* * *

He didn’t remember selecting the clothes that were folded neatly on a chair, and was reasonably sure he wouldn’t have put that shirt with those trousers. Perhaps Grant and Sara had been back to his house, they had a spare key. Yet another question.

When he opened the door to his room, Clara was standing right outside it, holding a clipboard and the medication he’d asked for. She took advantage of his instinctive move to stand aside for her, and walked back into the room, closing the door behind her.

‘You’re looking better.’ Her smile was kind, but just enough to let him know that she was happy with the way things were going, rather than giving any indication that she was here for her own pleasure.

‘Thank you. It’s good of you to say so.’ Gabriel sat down on the bed, picking up the half-bottle of water that Clara had left on the table, and she tipped the tablets from the dispenser into his hand.

‘I’ll be better when these kick in. And when I get home.’ If Clara had any thoughts of taking him anywhere else, she could think again. Gabriel had an almost irrational longing to be able to shut his front door behind him and come to terms with all of this.

‘You’ll be needing these.’ She reached into her handbag, which was large enough to contain all manner of things and probably did, and produced his keys and his wallet.

‘Thanks. You have my phone?’

‘Your father gave us permission to send it to our labs and get it checked over for any... intrusions.’

Gabriel rolled his eyes, regretting the movement almost immediately as pain shot through his temples. ‘And how long did my father say you could keep it?’

‘I’ll make sure you have it back tomorrow morning.’ She had the grace to sound a little embarrassed about it.

He’d argue that one out later. And since Clara was obviously acting on instructions, he’d take the less inviting option of sorting the matter out with his father, and not her.

‘Okay, fair enough. Can we go now?’

Clara nodded. ‘Yes. Ian Anderson’s outside. I think you know him.’

‘Yes, I know him.’ Ian drove his father when he was in London, and Gabriel knew and liked him. It seemed that Clara had done her homework and was making a comprehensive effort to reassure him. ‘Is a doctor available to discharge me?’

‘No need for that. You can leave whenever you feel up to it, you just need to sign this form.’ She put the clipboard on the bed beside him.

He read the form. Advice on possible complications after ingesting drugs...he knew that. Counselling and other follow-up...he’d take that under advisement. Clara handed him a pen and he scribbled his name at the bottom of the form.

‘Is that it?’ This was far more straightforward than usual, even for a private facility.

‘Yes, that’s it. Are you ready?’

He was more than ready. He followed Clara out of the room, nodding to Ian, who fell into step behind them. She handed the clipboard to a nurse at the reception desk, who gave him a smile before Clara hurried him away. Outside, an SUV with tinted windows drew up, and Ian opened the back door, waiting for Gabriel and Clara to climb in, before he rounded the car and got into the front passenger seat.

They were well organised, he had to give them that. But the overwhelming probability was that this was all some kind of mistake, and that his father had done the expected and overreacted. Gabriel closed his eyes, leaning back on the leather seat, as the car drew away.

‘I assume the bill’s paid. I’d hate to think we were doing a runner.’ He decided that teasing her a little couldn’t hurt, and it made all of this seem a bit more normal.

‘Yes, we’ve paid.’ Her voice betrayed a hint of humour. ‘It’ll be itemised on your account when you receive it.’

‘Good. And who did you tell them you were? Mata Hari?’ In truth she didn’t have the air of a femme fatale, although she could probably pull the look off without any trouble at all. But his father’s protection officers generally blended into the background, only betraying their presence when needed. In her summer dress and low heels, Clara could easily have passed for a concerned girlfriend. A very attractive one at that.

‘I said I was a friend.’

‘One who’s armed and dangerous?’ Gabriel opened his eyes. The accompanying pain in his head was a small price for taking another look at her.

‘No. Carrying a concealed weapon would be illegal.’ She gave him a bright smile. ‘I can be dangerous, though, if I put my mind to it.’

He’d take a bet on it. Gabriel was under no illusions that Clara Holt’s smile could be extremely dangerous, even if she didn’t go to the trouble of putting her mind to it.

CHAPTER TWO

GABRIEL HAD BEEN silent for the rest of the drive back to his house. When they drew up outside the three-storey town house, situated in one of London’s most exclusive Georgian terraces, Gabriel moved to get out of the car, and Clara stopped him, laying her hand on his arm.

‘I’d like you to stay here for a moment while Ian and the other members of my team check the house.’ She indicated the car parked across the street, containing four more security officers. ‘Is that okay?’

She felt the muscles of his arm flex under her fingers as his hand clenched into a fist. Then Gabriel puffed out a breath, reaching for his keys and handing them to Ian. ‘All right. When we do get inside you’ll have some questions to answer...’

Clara knew that. Ian flashed her the briefest of looks, which said that he wouldn’t want to be in her shoes, and got out of the car.

Her team knew what they were doing, and they didn’t have to wait long before an all-clear was signalled to Clara. Gabriel was stony-faced as she accompanied him up the front steps and through the panelled front door into a large, bright hallway.

‘You’ll join me for a cup of tea.’ That didn’t sound like an invitation but an order. Clara followed him through to the kitchen.

The room was obviously designed with some serious cooking in mind. A large double hob with pans of all shapes and sizes hanging to one side, all of them well used. An array of herbs and spices was contained in a rack full of jars, and a wine cooler was well stocked with bottles. At the far end, a breakfast table stood in a semi-circular bay and Gabriel strode towards it, drawing the blinds against the sunlight that streamed in through the French doors. Turning to inspect the supermarket bag that her team had left on the counter, he raised an eyebrow.

‘What’s this?’

‘Since we don’t know where the flunitrazepam came from, it’s wise to view your existing food stocks as suspect for the time being.’

He shook his head, taking teabags and milk from the bag and making the tea. When he put the two mugs on the table, sitting down opposite her, she found herself shivering in the heat of his dark gaze.

‘There’s one thing I want to get straight.’

‘Of course.’

‘You’re managing me. You’re very good at it, and I appreciate that you might find it necessary in a lot of the situations that you encounter, but I want you to stop.’

Clara swallowed hard. His file hadn’t prepared her for this. Gabriel DeMarco was the son of a man who was so rich that most people couldn’t get their heads around the scale of his wealth. Gabriel ran a medical charity, which no doubt gave him the sense that he was doing something useful, and the rest of the time he did what he pleased. He was undoubtedly charming, and the file had hinted that he used his not inconsiderable talent for seduction on a regular basis. Nothing...nothing had prepared her for his incisive mind and his determination.

But she could adapt. ‘Yes, I am managing you. This is a...sensitive situation.’

‘I understand that. But if we’re to have any kind of relationship, I want all the facts. Even the ones you think I can’t handle.’

‘Very well. I’ll tell you everything.’

‘Good.’ Gabriel leaned back in his seat, rubbing his temples. ‘Go on, then...’

Clara puffed out a breath. This felt like some kind of test, and she was pretty sure that if she left anything out now, she was going to fail it.

‘Yesterday evening you went to Dr and Mrs Goodman’s house for dinner. You collapsed shortly after you arrived. Dr Goodman recognised your symptoms as being drug related and took the appropriate action.’

‘And what prompted your involvement?’

‘Mrs Goodman knows your father, I believe.’

Gabriel rolled his eyes. ‘Yes, they’ve stayed with us in Italy. Sara called him, didn’t she?’

‘Yes, she did, and that turned out to have been a very wise move. It appears there have been other incidents involving your family...’

His brow darkened suddenly. ‘Other incidents? Is my mother all right?’

‘Your mother’s fine, nothing’s been directed at her. Although she’s naturally concerned about you, and we’ve been in constant contact with your parents to put their minds at rest.’

‘Thank you.’ His gaze was searching her face. ‘You should know that my older brother died in an accident when he was seventeen. My mother wouldn’t be human if she didn’t worry a little too much about me sometimes.’

‘Mr Sullivan told me. I was chosen for this assignment because I can be tactful and discreet. And I know how to reassure the people I work with.’

‘In that case, I’d be grateful if you could employ your ability to reassure to its fullest extent when you deal with my parents.’

‘But not with you?’

‘No. Not with me.’ Lines of worry and exhaustion etched themselves on his face, and for a moment all Clara wanted to do was soothe them away. ‘Why would anyone want to do this? I can’t imagine you don’t have a theory.’

‘You must know about the new drug your father’s company has developed.’ Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he just took the money and didn’t take much interest in the way it was made.

‘Yes, of course I do. It’s one of the new generation of HIV drugs and because of the low cost of manufacture it has huge potential in developing countries.’ Gabriel frowned. ‘I know that there have been some questions in the press about our manufacturing capabilities and distribution policies. When a new drug is developed, everyone else wants to get their hands on it and it’s not unusual to find a bit of pressure being applied to the company that holds the rights.’

‘Well, it may be that someone’s taken that application of pressure a step further. There have been moves to put your father under investigation for financial irregularities...’

‘What?’ Gabriel gave a harsh laugh. ‘I hadn’t heard about that, but whoever suggested it doesn’t know him very well. My father’s an absolute stickler for things being done properly as far as money’s concerned.’

‘So I gather. But you must know that getting the relevant distribution licences for a drug with this much potential is a demanding process. Any hint of scandal has to be avoided, and since it’s common knowledge that you’ll be having a greater involvement with the company when your father retires, that extends to you.’

Gabriel thought for a moment. ‘Okay... I get the financial allegations, they’re a direct attack on the company’s suitability to develop an important drug properly. The PR department will deal with that. But I don’t see the connection between that and what’s happened to me.’

‘Timing...’ Clara counted out her points on her fingers. ‘Ingestion of a form of flunitrazepam that isn’t available on the open market... Mrs Goodman’s emphatic assertion that you’re not a drug user...correct me if she’s wrong about that.’

‘Sara’s right. I don’t touch drugs.’

He was quiet for a moment, his face grave. Clara could almost see his life crumbling around him, and the thought that she’d been the one to tell him all of this made her feel sick.

‘I’m sorry, Gabriel. This can’t be easy to hear.’

‘That’s all right. I appreciate your honesty.’ He looked up at her, and suddenly she was on unsteady ground, falling into the warmth of his dark eyes. ‘Look, I really need to sleep for a few hours. Can I give you a call this afternoon, and we’ll talk a bit more?’

The after-effects of the drug were hitting him hard. Gabriel had kept it together for longer than most would have done, but now he could hardly keep his eyes open.

‘I’ll stay here, with my team.’

He looked around, as if he’d forgotten that they weren’t alone in the house. That was exactly what Clara wanted. Her team did their jobs quietly and inconspicuously and a client didn’t need to know the nuts and bolts of it. All Gabriel needed to know was that they were there and he was safe.

‘Uh... Okay. Help yourself to...’ He gestured towards the fridge and then seemed to think better of it and shrugged.

This was how it started. Gabriel was the kind of man who was sure of his place in the world, but gradually he was beginning to question the safety of everything around him. Clara had seen it happen before, and knew that it would be a difficult challenge for him to face.

‘Take some water with you.’ She got to her feet, pulling a bottle of water from the supermarket bag and giving it to him. ‘I have to call your father to give him an update. Or would you prefer to do that?’

Gabriel shook his head, wincing in sudden pain. ‘No. This is a company matter, he’ll want a report from you, not me. Tell him I said hello if you like, and that I’ll call him later.’

He turned, walking slowly out of the room. Clara saw his hand shake as he reached for the door handle and wondered if he’d make it up the stairs on his own. But instinct told her that crowding him would be the wrong thing to do at the moment, so she listened for his unsteady footsteps, relaxing only when she heard the sound of a door closing upstairs.

She’d watched over Gabriel’s handsome, sleeping face since the early hours of this morning. Stared at it, unable to believe that anyone could look quite so perfect...

But now wasn’t the time to think about his perfections. It was the vulnerabilities that she had to deal with, the worries and the flaws that came out when a person was in a difficult situation and under pressure. And although Gabriel wasn’t ready to admit it yet, he was in a very difficult situation.

CHAPTER THREE

ALONE IN HIS bedroom Gabriel tore off his clothes, leaving them in an untidy pile on the floor, and threw himself down on the bed. The room was bathed in sunlight and it was hurting his eyes so he reluctantly got up again and drew the curtains. That was better.

He was so tired. Asleep almost before he lay back down...

* * *

Eleven years old and alone in the darkness. His leg hurt. Gabriel had dragged himself over to the heap of rocks that had fallen near the mouth of the cave and tried desperately to move them, but they were too big. He’d called his brother’s name, knowing that he wouldn’t answer but hoping somehow for a miracle. Pietro had been buried, along with his friends, and only Gabriel was left.

Time was measured only by fitful sleep and growing hunger pains.

He heard the sound of water, and crawled to find it, pain shooting through his injured leg. The water tasted clean and cool, marred only by the metallic taste of his own blood, where he’d torn his fingers trying to dig.

He lay down on the floor of the cave. It would be better if he stayed here. Pietro was here, and his ghost seemed to beckon Gabriel into his arms...

* * *

Gabriel woke with a start, cold sweat covering his body. Breathe. Wake up. He commanded himself back into the world of the living. Rolling off the bed and stumbling to the bathroom, he turned on the tap, immersing his face in cold water, the shock bringing him to his senses.

Sometimes he’d go for weeks without having the dream. Then something would happen and it would be back again, never changing and still so real that he could almost touch it. Gabriel supposed that the sedative effects of the flunitrazepam might have something to do with it this time. Or maybe the feeling that he was trapped now too, with unknown dangers surrounding him.

He didn’t remember the rescuers bringing him out of the cave, he’d been too far gone by then, but he remembered waking up with his mother at his bedside. He’d seen the light streaming in through the windows, and promised himself he’d never be trapped again. He’d stay in the light and the fresh air, and he’d go wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

His parents’ constant, and understandable, concern for him had made that promise difficult to fulfil during the uneasy years of his teens. But Gabriel had learned to keep the peace, giving his mother the reassurance she needed while still reserving a measure of freedom for himself.

Gabriel switched on the shower, soaping himself clean, trying to tease his mind away from the dregs of the nightmare. He should concentrate on all the bright things his life contained. The memory of Clara’s cool fingers on his face suddenly burst into his head, making him shiver.

He wondered vaguely what Clara would have to say about the freedom that he valued so greatly. The thought that she had no authority to say anything about the way he led his life was tempered by the idea that it was probably her reports to his parents that were keeping his mother sane at the moment. And the growing realisation that he liked her. She was honest, and she had the kind of strength that he admired in a person.

And she was beautiful. Maybe it was his drugged state that had endowed her with the most beautiful face he’d ever seen. The fantasy of being approached by a gorgeous woman and told he was in danger from a criminal plot seemed like something out of a spy thriller.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he padded back into the bedroom, glancing at the clock. It was already three in the afternoon, and he’d slept too long. He should go downstairs and face Clara. Then maybe this whole situation, and Clara herself, would seem a little more ordinary.

* * *

‘Still here, then.’ Clara had heard Gabriel moving around upstairs for the last half-hour. When he appeared in the kitchen doorway he had showered and shaved, and looked a great deal better than he had first thing this morning.

She looked up at him and gave him a smile. ‘You thought I was going somewhere?’

He shrugged. ‘I wasn’t entirely sure that you were ever here at all. I suppose that what you said this morning still stands as well?’

‘Yes. I’m afraid it does.’ Disbelief was a common enough reaction. But the smiling, casual joke that Gabriel made of it was unusual. Most people were a bit more visceral about it, almost pleading with her to tell them that it was all a mistake.

‘Since this all seems to be real...my first concern is for the well-being of my charity. I assume you have details of The Watchlight Trust.’ He nodded towards the laptop that was open in front of her on the kitchen table.

In the circumstances, his first concern should be for his life. Maybe Gabriel took it for granted that he was invulnerable, the rich frequently did. But it seemed she’d found something that he cared about enough to want to protect it.

‘Yes, I do. Interesting name...’

‘We aim to serve those who keep a watchlight burning and are there for us when we’re in trouble.’

‘I can support that. I used to work as an ambulance paramedic...’ Clara bit her tongue. Her own past wasn’t relevant here.

But it was too late. His gaze had caught hers and there was no escape. ‘You know, it seems a little unfair that you know all about me and I know so little about you.’

He’d laid a trap for her and she’d fallen straight into it. Clara felt her cheeks redden. ‘You can have a copy of my CV...’

He shot her a languid smile. ‘Don’t do that. I prefer a more personal approach to information-gathering.’

For now, getting the file straight was Clara’s primary focus, and the idea of a personal approach was disconcerting. She cleared her throat.

‘And what exactly does The Watchlight Trust do?’

‘We’re building a knowledge and research base, and we run courses and conferences for people in the emergency and other rescue services. Alistair Duvall and I co-founded the charity five years ago. We’re both medical doctors with training in traumatic injury. Alistair specialises in physical rehab and limb replacement, and my speciality is in PTSD and its associated disorders. We run a clinic, next door to our offices, which deals mainly with outpatients but we do have facilities for fifteen in-patients as well.’

‘And the clinic is solely for rescue service personnel?’

Gabriel shook his head. ‘Not now. We came to the very obvious realisation that the techniques we were using to help those who were injured while rescuing others could be applied across a wider range of people. We welcome anyone who feels we can help them.’

He grinned suddenly, waiting for her to finish typing the extra information into the file on her laptop. ‘Got all that, or do you want me to go a bit slower?’

‘I’m keeping up. Could someone damage your own reputation or that of DeMarco Pharmaceuticals by attacking The Watchlight Trust?’

‘If anyone attacks The Watchlight Trust then my reputation is the least of my worries.’ The gleam of defiance in his eyes might be commendable, but it wasn’t going to help with the security situation. ‘Legally speaking and in terms of culture and decision-making, the charity is entirely separate from my father’s company.’

‘And in practice?’

Gabriel puffed out a breath. ‘In practice, DeMarco Pharmaceuticals lends us conference and training facilities from time to time, and we have use of the private plane when it’s available. My mother throws a fundraiser every year, which brings in a lot of money. And although I’m nominally a salaried director, I don’t draw my salary because I have an allowance from the family trust.’

‘And do you put any of your own money into the charity?’

‘There are a few high-risk projects that I fund myself, on the basis that they’re largely a gamble.’ She noted the gleam in his eyes as he spoke. Apparently high risk was something that excited him, and that was going to be a concern.

She’d deal with that later. ‘So in terms of public perception, The Watchlight Trust has a very great deal to do with DeMarco Pharmaceuticals. I think we must consider security at their offices.’

He nodded. ‘That sounds wise. Alistair’s the one to contact about that, you have his number?’

Clara nodded. ‘I have a proposal for CCTV and movement sensors that we can install here in your house, too...’

‘No.’ He turned and flipped open a cupboard, raising one eyebrow when he found it empty. ‘You’ve been busy. What did you do with the teabags?’

‘Next cupboard along.’ Gabriel clearly wasn’t inclined to discuss the need to send everything in his kitchen off for testing, any more than he wanted to discuss CCTV. But Clara had to take measures to ensure his safety.

‘Security cameras aren’t designed to invade your privacy. We can position them discreetly and you’ll forget they’re even there...’

He put teabags into two mugs, setting the kettle to boil. Then turned, leaning against the countertop, his arms folded. ‘I’ll save you the trouble. I don’t want any kind of surveillance equipment in my house.’

This was her way in. ‘Then you’ll be pleased to hear that we’ve swept the house for bugs, and didn’t find anything.’

A pulse started to beat at the side of his forehead. Gabriel was obviously coming to the realisation that Clara wasn’t the only one who might be watching or listening. It didn’t seem to please him.

‘What makes you think that you would?’

‘Have you worked out how the flunitrazepam got into your system yet?’

His gaze left her face and Gabriel stared pensively at the floor. ‘No.’

‘Neither have I. Until we do, we need to assume that anything’s possible.’

‘Or maybe we should try not to jump to conclusions, and assume that things are okay until we know otherwise.’

‘And what would you consider a reliable warning that things aren’t okay? You ending up in hospital?’ Clara pressed her lips together. That point would have been better made calmly.

‘I don’t have an answer to that.’ Gabriel looked up at her, the knowingness in his eyes making her shiver. He seemed to see straight through her, past her veil of professionalism and right down to the moment when seeing him lying in that hospital bed had made her want to reach out and touch him.

‘Neither do I. But we’ll know more tomorrow, and until then I need to assume the worst. Which means that the only alternative to CCTV is that I stay here in the house tonight, with a full protection detail.’

Oddly enough, that didn’t seem to bother Gabriel too much. Maybe he’d come to the conclusion that, however good her team was, they couldn’t see through closed doors. ‘I’m always happy to have house guests. I have to make some phone calls and then I’ll make the spare room up for you.’

He’d be infuriating if it weren’t for that charm of his. Actually, he was infuriating, but the charm made it all too easy to forgive him.

‘The spare room won’t be necessary.’ Clara could catch a few hours in a chair, she’d slept in worse places. ‘And if you want to make any calls, would you use my phone? I’m still waiting to hear back about the checks on your landline.’

She slid the phone across the table and Gabriel nodded, turning to pour the tea. He put one cup down on the table in front of her, then picked up her phone and strode out of the kitchen.

* * *

She could handle this. She wasn’t going to mess up. Clara twisted her fingers together in her lap and took a breath. This was the chance she’d been waiting for, a make-or-break career move, looking after one of Gladstone and Sullivan Securities’ most valued clients. She couldn’t allow herself to lose focus.

She’d already come so far. Her parents’ divorce had turned her life into a constant trek between her mother’s and father’s houses, as both of them warred over custody and pretty much everything else. Clara had escaped that and made a home for herself. And then her life had collapsed around her again. When she was tempted to see only Gabriel’s handsome face and his smile, she should remember why she’d promised herself she would never be taken in by a man again.

* * *

Six in the morning, and she’d travelled all night so she could surprise her husband. After an eleven-month tour of duty as a paramedic with the Army Reserve, Clara had arrived home.

Tim would still be sleeping and she took her boots off and climbed the stairs silently. The Clara who had trusted reached out her hand and opened the bedroom door.

She could still feel the tearing pain as she’d seen Tim, sleeping peacefully in the light of early dawn, his arm around a woman Clara had called her friend. It had been at that precise moment that trust had become a thing of the past.

She’d run down the stairs, hearing shocked voices as Tim and Sandra had woken suddenly. Picking up her boots and bag, she’d been gone before Tim had been able to follow her, slamming the front door behind her. Out into a world where her marriage was in ruins and she had nowhere to call home.

* * *

That had been four years ago. Clara had taken that moment and let it drive her. She’d worked hard, calculating every move she made. No more moments of shocked betrayal. And a home that she could truly call her own that no one could take away.

She had a good job and a nice flat. She relied on herself, and there was no way that Gabriel’s smile was going to tempt her into risking all of that.

* * *

Gabriel retreated to his study, sprawling on the sofa. Resisting the impulse to access Clara’s photographs to see if there were pictures of dogs or children or anything else that might betray that she had a life beyond this, he flipped through the contacts. His father’s number was there, along with Sara’s mobile number and the main number of his charity.

The first call was the easiest. Sara and Grant brushed off his apologies, wanting only to know whether he was all right. The second was a little more taxing. Gabriel’s co-director at The Watchlight Trust, Alistair Duvall, had not been satisfied with blanket reassurances and had questioned him more closely. Then Gabriel called his father.

He lay on the sofa, studying the ceiling as his father swung into employer mode and issued instructions. This was a serious matter, and he knew that Gabriel shared his concern that the company should not be compromised. He was to follow the advice of his security team at all times. Gabriel mouthed the words of his parting shot, knowing them off by heart. He wasn’t to worry his mother. She’d already lost one son...

He knew. He’d been there. The last twenty years had been dedicated to not worrying his mother, and to trying to make up for the son that his parents had lost. To stepping into the shoes of the older brother he’d hero-worshipped. Gabriel did what he always did, assuring his father that he’d heard, and asking to speak to his mother.

That was a less demanding conversation. His mother’s fears could be assuaged by the sound of his voice, and the promise that he was fine, if a little groggy still. They chatted for a while, and when he was sure that his mother was content, Gabriel ended the call.

He closed his eyes, stretching his limbs, wondering whether it was time to take more painkillers. Perhaps he should ask Clara, she seemed to have pretty much every area of his life under control.

But tomorrow he’d take it all back. Tomorrow was a new day. One more day that his brother didn’t have, and Gabriel had promised himself a long time ago that he’d waste none of them.

CHAPTER FOUR

CLARA OPENED HER EYES. This was a nice place to wake up, quiet, early morning sunlight filtering into the large guest bedroom. Maybe it was the lingering strands of a dream that made her feel that Gabriel had somehow only just left the room.

Gabriel had insisted she get a night’s sleep, and Clara had been too tired to argue. This morning she had to concede that he’d been right. She felt rested and equal to the task of finding a way to reconcile Gabriel’s urge to do whatever he pleased, whenever he pleased, with a workable security protocol.

She showered and dressed quickly, shaking the creases out of the smart trousers and blouse that she kept in the overnight bag in the boot of her car. There were guards stationed inside and outside the house, but it wouldn’t do any harm to take an early morning tour to make sure that everything was as it should be.

‘He’s up.’ Molly, one of the night guards, was at her post in the front hallway, and frowning furiously. ‘He’s been out...’

‘You went with him?’ Clara raised her eyebrows.

‘No, he must have slipped out through the back somehow. Walked back in through the front door. Sorry, Clara.’

Clara shook her head. ‘It’s not your fault. Where is he now?’

‘Kitchen.’

‘Okay. Thanks, Molly.’ Clara turned, taking a breath as she walked towards the closed kitchen door. If Gabriel was starting as he meant to go on, then so was she.

He was sitting at the kitchen table, a takeaway coffee and pastry in front of him. Reading the paper. He wore a crisp white shirt with a tie, and dark trousers, and his demeanour suggested that butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. Clara brushed away the thought that his mouth was probably capable of turning solid rock into molten lava.

‘Morning.’ He gave her a smile, and Clara sat down at the table. ‘Would you like some coffee?’

Clara shook her head. ‘You’ve been out to get yours?’

‘I can’t drink instant.’ He nodded to the jar of coffee that had been bought to replenish his empty cupboards yesterday.

‘So you decided to take a stroll and get some. Along with a morning paper.’

‘I brought coffee back for the night guards as well. I was going to get some for you, but I didn’t want to wake you.’

His charm was working overtime. Liquid brown eyes that seemed to collude with her and invited her to collude with him.

‘You can’t do this, Gabriel.’

‘I just have.’ He shot her a penetrating look. ‘You’re not my keeper, Clara.’

The words rolled off his tongue so easily, as if he’d come to the conclusion that no one was his keeper a long time ago. They’d be sure to hurt anyone who cared about him...

Clara placed her palms on the table in front of her, leaning forward. ‘I am your keeper, because that’s what I’m paid to be. And if you think that bringing everyone coffee is going to make any difference, when you’ve just gone out of your way to demonstrate that my team can’t do their jobs properly, then you’re wrong.’

She was taking a risk. But Gabriel wasn’t going to terminate the contract and order her out of the house. Even if he didn’t care to acknowledge the risks he was facing, he obviously cared about his mother and wouldn’t do anything to worry her.

‘It wasn’t the night guards’ fault. I take full responsibility...’ A flicker of genuine remorse showed in his face.

‘That’s not how it works, Gabriel. If some harm had come to you, they would have been held responsible. I won’t have them treated like that.’

‘All right. I hear you, and I apologise. But I won’t make this house into a fortress that I’m afraid to leave. It’s like...being buried alive.’

Gabriel seemed suddenly hollow-eyed at the prospect. He had been buried alive. The details in his file were scanty, but basic facts had been noted. The accident that had killed his brother had trapped him underground for three days.

‘I hear you, too.’ She could feel his pain, hanging in the air between them and pounding in her chest. ‘If you’ll work with me, I’ll respect your wishes. Always and without question.’

Suddenly he capitulated. ‘All right. I’d like to go in to the charity’s offices this morning, there are a few things I need to discuss with Alistair. If you can facilitate that, I’d be grateful.’

Clara nodded, puffing out a breath. ‘Thank you. We’ll be ready to go when you are.’

‘Half an hour? I’ll make you some coffee. Instant, I’m afraid...’

He’d made a concession and now wasn’t the time to tell him that coffee was the last thing on her mind. ‘Thank you. I’ll go and tell the guards and be back in a moment.’

* * *

Clara had seen Gabriel approach each one of the night guards before they went off duty, and had heard his apology. He’d thanked them for their night’s work and shaken their hands. It wasn’t necessary, they were all used to being treated like part of the furniture, but it was a nice thing for him to do and everyone appreciated it.

She’d also seen the words that Molly had mouthed to Ian when she handed over to him. He’s so hot... Ian had delivered a smiling reproof. That wasn’t something that anyone needed to notice, and Clara should take the advice on board too.

The charity’s offices were just ten minutes’ drive away. Quietly exclusive, the three-storey building looked out on a leafy square, bounded by iron railings. Gabriel waited until Ian opened the door of the SUV for him and followed him up the front steps. Once inside, he seemed to regain his momentum, giving the guard in Reception a brisk wave and striding through into an open-plan studio.

‘These are our main offices, and we have a development team upstairs, along with a meeting room. Our clinic is next door, and it also takes up the top floor of this building.’

Clara knew that already. She’d seen the schematics for the two buildings. But Gabriel seemed to be intent on co-operation and she wasn’t going to discourage him.

‘Thanks. That’s useful to know.’

He gestured towards a couple of glass-walled offices at the far end of the main space, one of which was occupied by a man who had sprung to his feet when they entered.

‘That’s my office and Alistair’s is next door...’ He broke off, greeting the man with a smile. ‘Alistair. This is Clara Holt. She’s closer to me than my shadow at the moment.’

That was the aim. When she could keep up with him.

‘Nice to meet you, Clara.’ Alistair gave her a relaxed grin, and Gabriel hurried away, towards his own office. ‘We need to talk, Gabriel...’ he called after him.

‘Yes, we do. Be with you in a minute.’ Gabriel was sorting through the papers on his desk, obviously trying to find something.

‘Don’t let him run rings around you.’ Gabriel’s habit of doing the exact opposite of whatever he was meant to be doing clearly came as no surprise to Alistair. ‘Thanks for sending your colleague in to see us yesterday, by the way. It was a really useful session, and it’s good to know we’re bug-free.’

‘Thank you for being so...co-operative.’

Alistair chuckled. ‘My pleasure entirely. You’ll find that Gabriel can be co-operative if he puts his mind to it.’

Clara would wait and see about that. And meanwhile she’d watch and learn. It seemed that the two directors were a fusion of opposites, and if Alistair could get him to co-operate then there was hope for her.

He turned as Gabriel shot back out of his office, making towards them. ‘Clara, feel free to use my desk, we won’t be long. Ready, Alistair?’

‘I have been for the last ten minutes.’ Alistair began to follow Gabriel towards his own office and then turned to Clara. ‘We actually might be a while. Refreshments are over there.’

The guards outside would be making sure that no one who wasn’t supposed to be here would be finding their way past the reception area and Clara could watch and learn. She found a seat that gave an unobstructed view of both Gabriel and Alistair through the glass wall that divided the two offices. Alistair sat back in one of the easy chairs to one side of his desk, obviously listening. Gabriel was more animated. The conversation seemed to be getting heated and Gabriel rose and paced a little, then threw himself back into his seat.

It was clearly a case of an irresistible force meeting an unmovable object. Just as Clara was wondering whether there would inevitably be an explosion of some sort, and whether it might be wise to take cover, Gabriel smiled and Alistair nodded. Peace was restored, only to be shattered again when they started in on a new topic of discussion.

Sitting and watching. Waiting for nothing to happen and yet prepared for anything. Clara had become used to it, but Gabriel made it a lot less tedious. Something about the way he moved invited her to watch, and it was difficult to tear her gaze away from him and scan the office, as people filtered in to start their day’s work. Names would have been checked at Reception and her presence seemed to excite a studied lack of interest. Alistair had clearly already dealt with any questions about the situation.

After two hours, it seemed that Gabriel and Alistair had run out of things to wrangle about and it looked as if neither of them could be any more pleased about the outcome of their discussions. Gabriel picked up the sheaf of papers he’d brought with him, tucking them under his arm, and joined Clara in his own office.

‘We’ve decided what we’ll do about this...business.’ He settled himself into the leather armchair opposite the one that Clara had chosen as a vantage point.

‘Which is?’ Clara wondered whether Alistair had been able to talk any sense into Gabriel.

‘I’m keen that no one here suffers any fall-out from anything that might happen to me. I was thinking of taking a step back from the charity for a while, but Alistair disagrees. Apparently he had a very fruitful discussion with one of your colleagues yesterday, and he won’t accept the possibility that I may become a liability. We’ve decided that I’ll maintain my involvement here for the time being but keep the matter under review. Do you have any thoughts on that?’

It didn’t matter what Clara thought. It mattered that she could keep Gabriel safe. But something about those dark eyes of his, and the sudden vulnerability in them, made her answer.

‘I think that now isn’t the time for you to abandon your core priorities. If the people here want to stand by you, then you should let them. Your work here clearly means a great deal to you.’

‘You thought it wouldn’t? What gave you the right to question my commitment?’ The sudden coolness in his eyes passed and he smiled. ‘The money, maybe...’

Yes, it was the money. And Gabriel’s charm, which made everything seem as if it was a game to him. Clara was beginning to learn otherwise, and she flushed in embarrassment.

‘Do you know how my brother died?’ he asked quietly.

‘Yes, I do. You were both visiting a cave, close to your parents’ summer home in Italy, and you were caught in a rock fall. That must be a very difficult thing to live with. I’m sorry.’

Gabriel nodded. ‘I’d find it impossible if I didn’t do something in support of the people who go into dangerous situations to help others. You must understand that. You were an ambulance paramedic.’

‘Yes, I do. I’ve seen people who work with the emergency services get hurt in the course of their jobs.’

He nodded, the warmth in his eyes telling Clara that this was exactly what he wanted to hear. That she wouldn’t just support his commitment to the work of his charity, she’d put her heart into it as well. Shame he didn’t know that her heart wasn’t a vessel that she relied on any more.

‘Thank you.’ He leaned back in his seat, smiling, and suddenly the atmosphere in the office seemed to change. Being with Gabriel was a lot like being on a roller-coaster at times. ‘There’s another...engagement that I should mention.’

‘Yes?’

‘There’s a cocktail party on Saturday. Alistair thought it would be better to cancel, but I’ve persuaded him otherwise.’ Clearly the conversation between Gabriel and his fellow director had been a matter of give and take.

‘You’re going to a cocktail party. The day after tomorrow?’

‘I’m holding one. At my place. It’s not just a cocktail party, we’ve put the guest list together very carefully.’

‘People who are in a position to help the charity, you mean?’

‘People who share our aims. We’ve asked a couple of Parliamentary advisors, chief executives from companies and charities and so on...’ He grinned roguishly. ‘I doubt any of them will be slipping me a roofie.’

And Gabriel wouldn’t call it off. Clara was learning that putting a few toes back into the water wasn’t his style. It was all or nothing with him, and he had to strip off and jump straight in. Clara tried to ignore the mental picture, because the temptation to dwell on the stripping-off part made her want to fan her face.

‘I’ll prepare a plan of action, then. Are there any other engagements I should know about?’

He shrugged. ‘I’m going to Italy for a few days in a couple of weeks’ time. It’s the anniversary of my brother’s death and I always go back, to be with my parents. In between then and now... I guess that anything that happens will be just as much of a surprise to me as it is to you.’

‘Okay. I’m sure we can handle it.’

‘Great.’ He got to his feet. ‘Now that’s settled, I need to go and see the Dream Team.’

‘Who?’ Clara picked up her bag, ready to follow him.

‘Come and meet them.’ He shot the words over his shoulder. ‘I think you might like them.’

* * *

The Dream Team was located on the next floor up, in a large office that contained three desks, some seriously hi-tech computer equipment and a lot of clutter. The muted colours of the offices below were replaced with posters and whiteboards, with a couple of bright purple sofas in one corner. An inflatable gorilla sat at one of the desks and the other two were occupied by a pair who seemed barely out of their teens. The young woman was concentrating on a large screen in front of her, and her companion was fiddling with his phone.

‘This is Kaia and Alfie.’ Gabriel frowned at the gorilla. ‘Where’s Ben?’

Alfie pulled a face and Kaia looked up apologetically from her screen. ‘He’s...gone home to get some sleep.’

‘And how long was he up for this time?’

Alfie and Kaia exchanged glances, and Gabriel rolled his eyes. ‘Okay, I don’t really need to know the details. Tell him that I won’t have any more all-nighters from him.’

Kaia shrugged. ‘He gets involved with what he’s doing, and he loses track of time. You know Ben...’

‘Yes, I do. And I know that he gets results, but I won’t have him doing it at the expense of his own health. If he can’t get into some kind of a routine where he eats and sleeps regularly, I’m going to have to...’ Gabriel shrugged. ‘I’ll think of something. Just tell him.’

‘Will do, boss.’ Alfie grinned.

‘While you’re at it, you might mention that if he tries coming into the office at the weekend, he’ll find a security guard who’ll politely but firmly refuse to let him in. You can organise that, Clara?’

‘Yes, I can revoke his access out of working hours. And we can tactfully make sure he leaves at a reasonable hour in the evening.’

‘Good. Thank you.’ Gabriel turned to Kaia. ‘Are you dropping by his place tonight?’

‘I thought I might.’

‘In that case...’ Gabriel took his wallet out, extracting a couple of notes. ‘Will you leave a bit early and go and get some shopping for him? Let’s see if we can introduce him to fruit, shall we? And perhaps a few things he can’t eat straight out of the packet?’

Kaia nodded, taking the notes and putting them in the pocket of her ripped jeans. ‘Will do. Thanks.’

Gabriel nodded, and both Kaia’s and Alfie’s gazes turned to Clara in silent curiosity. Then Kaia stepped forward, obviously the spokesperson for the two.

‘Hi, I’m Kaia.’

‘Clara. Alistair told you who I am?’

Kaia nodded. ‘He said we mustn’t get in your way.’

Gabriel chuckled. ‘He means you mustn’t get in my way. If you do then there’s always the chance that one of Clara’s team will spring from the shadows and tackle you to the ground.’

‘Really?’ Kaia’s eyebrows shot up and she backed away.

‘No one’s getting tackled to the ground.’ Clara shot Gabriel a glance, hoping it might imply it was perfectly possible that she might tackle him to the ground if he didn’t stop messing around. ‘My job is to make sure things never get that far.’

‘Of course. Forgive me. Kaia, Alfie and Ben are our design and ideas team. Ben’s alter ego is the only dangerous thing around here and all you really need to deal with him is a pin...’ Gabriel gestured towards the inflatable gorilla.

‘I’ll bear that in mind.’ Clara turned to Kaia, smiling. ‘So your work is with rescue teams?’

‘Partly, but not exclusively. If we have a good idea about pretty much anything, Gabriel lets us run with it.’

‘Sometimes they come up with nothing. But sometimes they hit gold.’ Gabriel grinned.

It all sounded a bit haphazard. This must be one of the high-risk projects that Gabriel had referred to. But if the Dream Team was as good as he obviously thought they were, then giving them free range opened up the possibility of new ideas and outside-the-box thinking. Sometimes unconventional and head in the clouds was exactly what it took to come up with undreamed-of results.

‘You might find the project that Kaia and Ben are working on interesting, they’re looking into 3D printing to make prosthetic limbs.’

‘I’ve read a little about that, it’s got some great applications. This is one of the projects that falls slightly outside your core interests?’

‘It has all sorts of applications...’ Gabriel shrugged. ‘It’s not a new idea, but it’s something that Alistair and I were both passionate about and Kaia and Ben felt they had something unique to add to what’s already out there.’

Clara was having difficulty working out whether the team’s activities were an exercise in chaos or an inspired leap of faith. When she looked into Gabriel’s face, she saw only the leap of faith.

‘Kaia will be happy to show you...’

He turned to Kaia and she nodded. Clara hesitated. Much as she wanted to see what Kaia was doing, her responsibility was to keep her eye on Gabriel. ‘You’re staying here?’

‘Yes, Alfie and I have a few things we need to talk about.’

If she was going to give in, she may as well do it gracefully. ‘Okay. I’d love to see what you’re doing, Kaia.’

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.