Page 61 of Embracing Love

No answer.

Maybe he was in the shower, or in the washroom?

She knocked again and waited, holding his carefully folded up jacket in her arms. Damn it. He couldn’t still be at the barbeque enjoying himself, could he?

How dare he?

She lifted her hand to knock again, but decided against it as suddenly, and let her hand slip down without a sound.

“Looking for me?” His voice directly behind her electrified the hairs on her neck. She spun around and missed a few heartbeats with the unexpected shock of seeing him on the same side of the door as her. Her mouth hung open, and his gaze—curious, searching and unguarded—dropped to his jacket.

“I came to return your jacket.” She moved to the side, clearing the entrance to the door, and held out his jacket for him. With a cold look that still hadn’t melted, he took it as his gaze moved from the jacket to her lips, then up to her eyes. Caught in his intense stare, she felt a fire spark along her lips, her skin, her soul.

And she felt rooted to the floor, unable to move.

“Thank you, and goodnight,” he turned away from her and slipped his key card into the door which he pushed open. He walked in, turned, and looked at her oddly, as if wondering what she was doing still standing there.

“I’m not done with you yet,” she managed, and put her hand onto the door to prevent him from closing it. He wasn’t going to dismiss her so easily, nor would she let him.

“No?” Interest sparked in his eyes, and for the first time that evening, the coldness, reserved only for her, seemed to thaw a little. Her actions seemed to render him unsure.

“Here?” His voice turned husky, dropped a little lower.

“It won’t take long.”

He moved aside, opening the door wide to let her through.

His hotel room was identical to hers with its double bed, twin sconces, décor and layout, except that he had a whole wall which was glass and looked out onto the forest. But now, at night, it looked out into the pitch darkness. She caught sight of her reflection, and his as they stood side by side, unsure.

She looked around, to avoid staring at the reflection and noted that he kept his room clean. A neat holdall stood to one corner, and it was immaculate. Nothing like hers with her bed covered with makeup and accessories, and the different dresses she’d tried on before settling on the outfit she now wore.

Gabriel strode to the windowed wall and drew the curtains before switching on the wall sconces. These took the room from dingy, sleazy darkness to a gorgeous warm seductive hue of amber.

He peeled off his blazer and put it carefully around the chair, as if he had all the time in the world, as if her standing there was of no particular concern to him.

She suddenly felt foolish, and at the same time tingled all over with anticipation. It was heady, being here, just him and her, in his room.

She tried hard not to bite her lip and crossed her arms, more to sound proof the sound of her heart, which she could hear reverberating in her ears.

“I—” But just as in the presentation, her thoughts locked down, and she wasn’t sure what she was going to say. She’d not thought that far ahead and now that she was here, her body began to respond to him. Just as it had yesterday at the fountain. She crossed her arms even tighter, as though reining in the desire she felt slowly swirling around her body. Blood rushed from her head to her lips, and again, her throat dried up.

Gabriel too seemed to be fighting something. She knew that stance of his, hoped she wasn’t wrong, that he was fighting to curb the same urge too.

“I’d better go,” she said, not wanting to make a fool of herself, and uncrossed her arms, dropping them to her sides. Yet he held her spellbound with his gaze, so intense that she fell into it, was drawn into it and to him. Her skin screamed for his touch and she felt the feelings of desire spark back up. The feelings he’d ignited in her yesterday.

Blood pooled, a direct line from her chest to deep within her. To a place she’d left behind. Fighting for control, she balled her fists. Yet Gabriel merely looked at her, his eyes dark and hooded almost—the promise of him right there for the taking.

Only, with him not moving, she was suddenly and consciously aware that she might have read the whole situation wrong. And yet it was there, unmistakable, this potent mix of anger and desire that painted his beautiful face.

Unable to take another cold stare from him she regained her composure enough to make it to the door. She reached it, just as he caught up with her. He stood behind her with his hand on the door, above her head.

“You said you wanted to talk.”

Her heightened senses caught a scent of his aftershave mixed in with the smoky tang from the barbeque, she felt his breath close behind her ear, as the sizzle and crackle of the electricity between them sent her skin prickling.

She dared not trust herself to face him, couldn’t bear to look into his smouldering, angry face again for she knew her mind would empty if she did.

She shook her head. “I don’t have anything to say. You seem to have figured me out.”

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