Page 58 of Gabriel's Angel

“Yes, it’s stunning.” Marion rubbed a finger over her lip as she studied it. She’d been tempted to take a knife to the canvas when Gabe had first unpacked it, but the temptation had faded quickly. She was too much a patron of the arts to let personal feelings interfere. “It’s one of his best and most romantic pieces. It’s been hanging only three weeks and I’ve already had six serious offers for it.”

“I’ve already seen the painting, Marion.”

“Yes, but I doubt you understand it. He calls itGabriel’s Angel.That should tell you something.”

“Gabriel’s Angel,” Laura repeated in a murmur. The warmth spread through her as she took a step closer. “What should that tell me?”

“That he, like Pygmalion, fell a bit in love with his subject. That’s expected now and again, even encouraged, as it often inspires great work such as this.” She tapped a finger against the frame. “But Gabe’s much too practical a man to string out the fantasy for long. The portrait’s finished, Laura. He doesn’t need you any longer.”

Laura turned her head so that she could look directly at Marion. What was being said had run through her mind countless times. She told Marion what she had already told herself. “Then he’ll have to tell me that.”

“He’s an honorable man. That’s part of his charm. But once things come to a head, once he realizes his mistake, he’ll cut his losses. A man only believes in an image,” she said, with a gesture toward the portrait, “as long as the image is unsmeared. From what Lorraine tells me, you don’t have much time.”

Laura fought back the urge to turn and run. Oddly, she discovered it didn’t take as much effort this time. “If you believe that, why are you taking so much trouble to move me along?”

“No trouble.” She smiled again and let her hand fall away from the painting. “I consider it part of my job to encourage Gabe to concentrate on his career and avoid the kind of controversies that can only detract from it. As I’ve already explained, his involvement with you isn’t acceptable. He’ll realize that soon enough himself.”

No wonder she had called Lorraine, Laura thought. They were two of a kind. “You’re forgetting something, Marion. Michael. No matter what Gabe feels or doesn’t feel for me, he loves Michael.”

“It takes a particularly pitiful woman to use a child.”

“You’re right.” Laura met her eyes levelly. “You couldn’t be more right.” When Laura saw that retort had hit home, she continued calmly, “I’ll wait here for Gabe. I’d appreciate it if you’d tell him when he gets back.”

“So you can run and hide behind him?”

“I can’t see that Laura’s reasons for coming to see me are your concern.”

Gabe spoke from the entranceway. Both women turned toward him. He could read fury on Marion’s face and distress on Laura’s. Even as he watched, both women composed themselves in their own way. Marion lifted her brow and smiled. Laura folded her hands and raised her chin.

“Darling. You know it’s part of my job to protect my artists from panicky spouses and lovers.” Crossing to him, Marion laid a hand on his arm. “We’re going to be meeting with the Bridgetons in a few minutes about the three paintings. I don’t want you distracted and out of sorts.”

He spared her only the briefest of glances, but in it Marion saw that he had heard too much. “I’ll worry about my moods. If you’ll excuse us now?”

“The Bridgetons—”

“Can buy the paintings or go to hell. Leave us alone, Marion.”

She aimed a vicious glare at Laura, then stormed out of the room. Her heels echoed on the tile. “I’m sorry,” Laura said after a long breath. “I didn’t come here to make waves.”

“Why, then? From the look of you, you didn’t come to spend an afternoon in art appreciation.” Before she could answer, he was striding to her. “Damn it, Laura, I don’t like having the two of you standing here discussing me as though I were some prize to be awarded to the highest bidder. Marion’s a business associate, you’re my wife. The two of you are going to have to resolve that.”

“I understand that completely.” Her voice had changed, hardened to match his. “And you should understand that if I believed you were involved with her in any way I would already have left you.”

Whatever he’d been about to say slipped completely away from him. Because he recognized the unshakable resolve in the statement, he could only stare at her. “Just like that?”

“Just like that. I’ve already lived through one marriage where fidelity meant nothing. I won’t live through another.”

“I see.” Comparisons again, he thought. He wanted to shout at her. Instead, he spoke softly, too softly. “Then I’ve been warned.”

She turned away so that she could close her eyes for a moment. Her head was pounding ruthlessly. If she didn’t take the time to draw herself in, she would throw herself into his arms and beg for help. “I didn’t come here to discuss the terms of our marriage.”

“Maybe you should have. It might be time for us to go back to square one and spell it out.”

She shook her head and made herself turn to face him again. “I wanted to tell you that I’m going to see a lawyer in the morning.”

He felt the life drain out of him in one swift flood. She wanted a divorce. Then, as quickly as he’d been left limp, the fury came. Unlike Laura, he had never had to prime himself for a fight. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“It can’t be put off any longer. I can’t keep pretending it’s not necessary.” Again she wanted to step into his arms, to feel them close around her, make her safe. She kept an arm’s length away and stood on her own. “I didn’t want to start what will be a difficult and ugly period without letting you know.”

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