Page 28 of A Wedding Negotiation with Her Boss

‘He lives on his own,’ she said. ‘Quite far from London. Cornwall, as a matter of fact. I—I try to visit him at least once a month. He worries, you see.’

‘I understand.’ Isabella patted her hand. ‘We parents make a habit of worrying about our children. It is only natural.’

Helen thought of her father—the cards he sent her on a regular basis, the long, casually worded emails that couldn’t quite hide his daily anxiety that she was okay, the absolute relief and love on his face whenever she went to visit him. He neversaidanything, but she knew that it had taken a lot of courage for him to let her fly the nest without protest, to understand.

And now here she was, gazing into this lovely woman’s concerned face, wondering how she could wriggle out of the situation she and Gabriel had jointly brought on themselves. Well, largely her, if she were completely honest.

‘My mum...’ her voice was low and quiet ‘...and my brother died in a car accident when I was very young. My dad never really recovered. He became very protective of me and even now—and I’m twenty-eight years old—he’s still very protective, always scared that something’s going to happen to me. So I try and get back to see him as often as I can, just to reassure him that everything’s all right. It means the world to him.’

‘Oh, my dear.’ Isabella reached out in a spontaneous gesture of sympathy. ‘That poor man, and you, poor child. Of course we must not interrupt that routine! We would so have loved you to have met all our family who work in the vineyards but naturally another time—yes, it was just a spur-of-the-moment invitation. Another time, perhaps, and you must bring your dear father!’

‘Yes.’ She thought of Gabriel and wondered what this strong, invincible and yet vulnerable guy had said to Arturio in passing when they had met in the past. She thought of the reason why he would have been driven to want the good opinion of someone when, she suspected, he had never cared what anyone thought of him. That one little white lie had now come back to haunt her.

She felt faint. Shedidhave feelings for this man. Just acknowledging that fact made her giddy, as though she was at the bottom of the ocean speeding to the surface without sufficient oxygen to take her back to safety.

She’d started this. Might it be up to her to finish it? Would those boundary lines, and her ultimatum about packing in the job if they couldn’t put this behind them, still hold up should she spend yet more time in his company? They were finding out about one another and it felt dangerous.

It also made her feelalive.

‘I’ll come.We’llcome.’ She looked at Gabriel and their eyes met, although she couldn’t begin to work out what was going through his head. His expression was tender—loving, as a besotted boyfriend’s should be—and completely unrevealing.

‘I’m not due to visit my dad for another week or so.’ She managed a smile as she was swept away on a decision that made her pulses leap. ‘And I think he’ll like the thought of me seeing a bit of Italy. I haven’t travelled much.’

‘Are you quite sure, my darling?’

‘Yes.’ No going back now.

The conversation flowed around her in waves. She was saying stuff but she wasn’t sure what. Whenever she glanced down, she saw Gabriel’s brown hand on hers, an intimate gesture that reminded her of this unexpected turn they had taken—thanks to her, because he had given her an out clause.

She could have been vague. She could have stuck to what she had said about unavoidable commitments—no one would have questioned that, least of all uber-polite and emotionally generous Arturio and his wife. Maybe she needed this. Maybe she had to address whatever wayward feelings for Gabriel had taken root inside her. Things had become muddled and perhaps she had to wade through the muddle to emerge on the other side and not walk away from it in the hope it would disappear in time.

At any rate, she’d made her bed. She was going to have to lie in it.

‘Well, that came as a surprise.’

Helen blinked and realised that Arturio and Isabella had left. She must have said her goodbyes, barely aware of what was going on, her mind way too cluttered with the business of repercussions.

He had dropped her hand and was sitting back in his chair, staring at her.

Gabriel had spotted Arturio and his wife just as soon as he’d entered the restaurant. They’d waved, hurried over to him and, before he’d finished his first cup of coffee, had sprung their idea about a few days in Italy to meet the family.

Gabriel had done well to disguise his shock. He’d thought of how that suggestion might go down with Helen and come up short, but he’d smiled and murmured something about perhaps her not being able to make it over at such short notice.

They’d wanted them both to fly directly to Italy from America and swing by for a few days—rather as if it was as convenient as stopping on the way from work to buy a pint of milk.

He knew why and had himself to blame. Having spent a lifetime cultivating an armour around his emotions, he had found himself courting the old man’s good opinion. Why? Because a door had been opened to what family life looked like? And not just any family life, but his flesh-and-blood family life. Arturio had been cut from such different cloth from that of Gabriel’s own irresponsible parents, that he had sought to impress. Having a fling with his secretary didn’t come under the heading of making a good impression.

He had been incredibly pleased when Helen had come up with her little fabrication. He hadn’t thought that anything further would come of it.

He’d been wrong.

He’d waited for an explosion when the idea had been excitedly mooted, but she’d handled the situation with admirable calm. Definitely not a woman prone to hysteria—admirable, really.

Of course, he could feel her shock and tension in the cool clasp of her fingers dutifully entwined with his, but he’d given her a way out of accepting their offer. He’d opened the door to an excuse involvingfamilywhich was broad enough to include anything: babysitting duties; a favourite cousin’s upcoming wedding; a mother in hospital...

The possibilities had been endless.

And at no point had he guessed which road she would travel down. At no point had he contemplated a response that had shocked him, and he certainly hadn’t imagined for a passing second that she would actually go andaccepttheir offer.

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