That mouse wouldn’t have sat on his lap, wouldn’t have ordered him to bend down so she could fix his hair, wouldn’t have slipped her hand into his and curled her fingers over his palm.
Gabriel could be patient when the rewards were so great.
“Here, this one.” Stopping in front of a door in the middle of the corridor, Charlotte knocked.
It opened seconds later, the middle-aged woman inside inviting them in. Turned out the apartment belonged to her daughter. “She got a temporary transfer to Dubai,” the woman told them with a beaming smile. “The rules say she can do a sublet, so she might as well. It’s only for six months though.”
“That’s perfect,” Charlotte said, because no matter what, she wasn’t about to live her life looking over her shoulder. The best-case scenario was that Richard had forgotten her. If he hadn’t, then she’d work with Gabriel and the police to put him back in jail, this time for so long that he’d be an old man when he came back out.
“Gabriel?” she said, glancing around to see that he’d prowled to the windows. “What do you think?”
The owner’s mother patted her hand. “I’ll go make some coffee while you and your handsome husband discuss it.”
“Yes,” Gabriel said with a glint in his eye. “Come here, wife.”
Flutters in her abdomen at his teasing, she waited until their host had left before saying, “So?”
“Pros—it’s not ground level, and fourth floor is high enough that no one’s going to be climbing up. Fire stairs are internal. Windows don’t open and the door has solid locks.”
“I’d get them changed,” Charlotte said, knowing she’d feel better that way. “I’m sure the owner wouldn’t mind if I get the same kind or a more secure model.” Since Gabriel still looked grim, she said, “Cons?”
“It’s not my apartment.”
“Gabriel.”
Brows drawing heavily together, he folded his arms. “Why are you wasting your money? I’m offering you free room and board and as much sex as you can handle.”
“Hush!” She looked over her shoulder, but their host had the radio on in the kitchen nook and wasn’t paying them any attention. “I’m taking the apartment.”
“You’ll ride to work and back with me.”
“We can negotiate that.” Charlotte folded her own arms. “Since I don’t intend to turn into a workaholic who comes home at eleven every night.”
That made him growl. “You used to be so compliant. What happened?”
“You did,” she whispered, astonished by him all over again. “Come to dinner at my place?” She was finding it harder and harder to say good-bye to him.
28
IN WHICH GABRIEL PROPOSES KITCHEN-CHAIR SEX
LEAVING GABRIEL GOING OVER a contract at her kitchen table, Charlotte disappeared into her bedroom to change. Once there, she couldn’t figure out what to wear, finally just grabbing a pretty dress with a blue forget-me-not print against white that she’d bought several weeks earlier. It wasn’t right for work, but casual enough for home with its square neck and lack of sleeves. Slipping her feet into fluffy yellow slippers she’d bought the same day she’d bought the purple “monster claw” ones for Molly, she was about to step out into the corridor when she realized her footwear wasn’t exactly sexy. “Stop obsessing, Charlotte.”
With that, she made her way to the kitchen to find Gabriel had spread work all over the table, his cell phone at his ear. As he spoke, she deduced the person at the other end of the line was the head of an international cosmetics brand Gabriel had convinced to be exclusive to Saxon & Archer in Australasia. The deal was a coup for the company, but it was sucking a lot of Gabriel’s energy since the head of the cosmetics firm insisted on dealing directly with him rather than with Saxon & Archer’s head of merchandising.
Biting back a laugh when Gabriel smoothly negotiated a clause favorable to Saxon & Archer, she went and chopped up two apples into four slices each and placed them in front of him along with a glass of milk. He hadn’t eaten since lunch, and she knew how much energy he burned.
Winking at her¸ he picked up a slice as he continued his conversation.
Wanting a quick but different meal, she put on some rice using the fuss-free cooker she and Molly had discovered in university, then pulled out a package of jumbo shrimp, and some fresh vegetables for a stir-fry. A hint of ginger, a dash of soy sauce, maybe a bit of spring onion, and it would be a delicious meal. She could also add in cashews for crunch.
“You really love cooking.”
Looking over her shoulder to see that Gabriel had eaten most of the first apple, she smiled. “I do.” Then, for the first time since Richard’s attack, she brought it up while in this room. “I lost that love for two years after the attack. I managed to make myself come into the kitchen, put together basic meals, but I couldn’t recapture the joy.”
Gabriel’s eyes iced over, but he didn’t interrupt.
Having prepped everything for the stir-fry she’d make as the rice finished cooking, she began to put together a bowl of grapes and berries for dessert. “Then I had a really bad day at work. Anya,” she said with a shrug. “She was being a snot. I was so mad I had to get it out, so I came in here and started baking.” It had felt so good, so cathartic to be in here, doing what she loved, that the fear had been crushed under the sheer weight of it.