Page 9 of The Key to the Last House Before the Sea

GABRIEL

Gabriel stood in front of the wardrobe that took up a corner of the bedroom. His father, if he were here, would insist that he wear a suit, shirt and tie today – after all, he was, to all intents and purposes, working.

But being shown around Heaven’s Cove in his suit was a bit over the top. Especially when the day promised to be hot and sunny. Not that he had much choice because all he’d packed was an extra suit, underwear, and a few shirts and ties. He wasn’t a ‘casuals’ sort of person.

He walked to the window and stood there in his underpants, gazing at the sea. It was choppy today, but the most beautiful shade of azure. He hadn’t seen an ocean that colour since his fateful trip to Tobago with Seraphina.

The trip during which it had finally slapped him full in the face that he couldn’t face the rest of his life with a woman who spent two hours getting ready to lie on a beach, and then did nothing but complain about it being too sandy when she got there.

Seraphina had seemed equally irritated by him, so he’d been surprised that she’d taken their split so badly. His father’s ire, on the other hand, had been expected.

Gabriel could still hear his voice in his head. What do you mean, you’ve broken off your relationship? What are you playing at? Seraphina is the perfect wife for you.

Gabriel was sure Seraphina would have played the role of wealthy corporate wife to perfection – hosting dinner parties, making small talk with his clients, spending a fortune on making their home look amazing.

His father knew that too, which was why he’d welcomed her with open arms. The fact that she and Gabriel would have ended up making each other thoroughly miserable didn’t register. Nothing did with Billy Gantwich, other than the company that he’d turned over the years into a multi-million-pound concern.

All that mattered in his eyes was that Seraphina was the perfect trophy wife for a man set to take over the family business.

Gabriel pushed down the niggling question that edged its way into his brain occasionally: Do I actually want to take over the family business?

Of course he did. He’d be an ungrateful idiot to feel otherwise. Thousands would kill to have his prospects and privileges. This was his destiny, and he needed to man up and make it work.

Gabriel stretched out his arms and yawned. He’d get his business here sorted out quickly so he could go back to London and the luxury he was used to. There was nothing wrong with this guesthouse – the room was comfortable and the views were magnificent. But he missed his power shower and underfloor heating. He grinned. He’d gone soft over the years.

Gabriel’s attention was suddenly caught by a flash of pink and he realised, with horror, that the woman he’d hired to show him around today had just appeared at the top of the cliff – and she was looking directly at him, in all his half-naked glory.

He stepped quickly to the side so he was hidden by the curtain. Great. That had got the day off to an awkward start. He wasn’t a prude in the bedroom, but he wasn’t one for flashing at strangers. Especially not bolshie women living in the back of beyond with their kids.

An image of Nessa and Lily locked in an embrace floated into Gabriel’s mind. And breath caught in his throat. He shook his head and started getting dressed. He needed to stay focused on what he was here to do, and then get the hell out.

Five minutes later, Gabriel was looking smart in his grey suit but already uncomfortably hot. Feeling rebellious, he loosened his tie, slipped it over his head and threw it onto the bed. His father wasn’t here, so he’d never know.

A breeze was blowing through an open window when he went out onto the landing and somewhere a door was banging, the sound echoing through the house.

He’d reached the foot of the stairs when he heard the beep of his mobile phone. It was a text from his father. Gabriel felt a shiver go down his back. Did he somehow know about his minor act of rebellion?

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he muttered, opening the message which said: Don’t hang about, Gabriel. Have a look, get it sorted pronto and get back here. Lots to do at HQ.

There was always lots to do back at HQ, a gleaming office block near the Thames. But would it kill his father to say good morning once in a while?

He pushed the phone back into his trouser pocket and went into the conservatory dining room, to nab some breakfast before the day’s business began.

One very decent cooked breakfast later, Gabriel stood on the doorstep of Driftwood House, waiting for Nessa and wondering if she’d spotted him at the window this morning.

Oh well, what if she had? He’d be away from here soon enough.

He glanced at his watch. She was irritatingly late, but at least it gave him a few moments to fully appreciate the location of this unusual house. His father would kill to own this building, in such a beautiful, isolated spot – though he’d immediately raze it to the ground and build several luxury apartments.

That would be a shame, Gabriel acknowledged, admiring the house’s impressive architecture. This home had stood here for decades and been weathered by fierce winter storms and blazing hot summers. It had character.

He had a sudden urge to paint the scene before him: the house with its stark white walls and russet roof, the china-blue sky streaked with vapour trails, the azure sea swelling against the cliff. But it was a stupid notion. He hadn’t painted in years and wasn’t about to start now. He had far more important things to do today.

‘Good morning.’ Nessa appeared behind him, making him jump. ‘Sorry I’m late. Let’s get going, shall we? Where would you like to go first?’

She didn’t catch his eye, because she was rude or because she’d seen him half naked. Gabriel, tie-less but still too hot, realised he didn’t much care either way.

‘Maybe you could start by giving me a whistle-stop tour of Heaven’s Cove,’ he said, undoing a second button on his shirt.

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