Cathy Williams - The Notorious Gabriel Diaz

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 Had she really been as repulsed by him as she had tried to convince him then the offer would have been withdrawn.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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