Annie Claydon - Falling For Her Italian Billionaire

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.

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.