“I can’t believe he risked his life to impress a girl.”
“He wanted me to come along.”
What? She sat forward. “You were there? My parents didn’t ever tell me.”
His jaw clenched. “I told him the only way I’d go was if I could manage to catch him when he fell. I knew he could be stubborn, but I didn’t think he’d try it. I was so angry with him.” He blinked and his voice deepened. “Angrier with myself.”
She knew how Gabriel felt … somehow responsible … wanting to rework history. She’d wanted to be there for Anthony too, to convince him not to be so foolish, and all for the sake of a bet. But no amount of wishing or blame would bring her brother back.
“He made the decision to climb that rock,” she assured Gabriel now. “No one else.”
His eyes burned into space. “I was his best friend. I should’ve talked him out of it. Or physically held him back.”
The way he’d physically held her back yesterday, when he’d dragged her out of the surf and she’d refused to listen to sound advice? She’d thought at the time he was being bossy, but he’d only had her best interests at heart when he’d made sure she’d lain still in case of concussion. All those years ago when she’d hated him—or thought she had—she’d recognised that strength in him too.
Natural. Unswerving.
In her mind she saw Gabriel standing on the very edge of that cliff, the wind gusting through his hair and opened shirt, as if he was daring the gods to force him off. Her gaze roamed the lines of his face and understanding crept in. Now she knew who he was, how their pasts were connected, it seemed obvious.
“You were thinking about my brother yesterday, weren’t you?”
One dark eyebrow arched and he leant back. “I didn’t set out to climb to the island’s highest point. Heights and I don’t mix well. I’d had a quiet, uneventful bushwalk in mind, to clear my mind before heading back to the cabin.” His gaze dropped and he reached for his glass. “Then you happened along.”
She fought the urge to reach over and touch his hand. “Anthony would’ve been so proud if he’d seen you dashing to my rescue.”
His eyes snapped up, but then a shadow of a smile hovered at the corners of his mouth. His gaze held hers, and as the moment wound down the space between them seemed to thrum with a different, deeper meaning.
But then he sucked back a breath and shoved to his feet. Glaring at the dark rolling sea, he drove a hand through his hair, then set his fists low on his hips. “None of that makes any difference.”
“Any difference to what?”
He faced her. “Nina, you can’t stay.”
Air seeped from her lungs. The present and its challenges rose up again and she slumped.
“You’re sacking me.” Not a question. Rather a flat-line statement.
What had she expected? A reunion with balloons and a rendition of “Auld Lang Syne”? Bottom line: no matter what vow she’d made to improve, she was a less than competent waitress, and those who didn’t perform must be eliminated.
Regardless of the way they’d made love last night, this evening it was Goodbye, Nina.
Gabriel turned back to face the ocean, wringing his hands on the rail.
He’d had the scenario worked out. Announce that he knew her identity, then slap her with the final slam-dunk details of his own. Nina had deceived him. Dorset must have thought him a fool to fall for her act. No one manipulated him the way she had and got away with it—particularly when this Nina was the obnoxious teen who years ago had rattled his cage any chance she’d got.
And yet—
Dropping his chin, Gabriel clenched the rail and let out a quiet groan.
After speaking about Anthony, he could practically hear his best mate demanding he do something to help his little sister, and do it now. No matter how much he might want to, he couldn’t and wouldn’t ignore it. Anthony had been too good a friend. God knew why he’d befriended him, the geek, but Gabriel would never forget it.
But throwing money at Nina didn’t seem right. He’d never taken charity; Anthony wouldn’t have wanted hand-outs either. If Nina was hoping for a signed blank cheque—sorry, not happening.
Keeping her on here was out of the question too. Turning this place around depended on sticking to the narrow but profitable road. Not even Anthony’s memory could influence him to jeopardise that success.
There was only one solution. For Anthony’s sake—for the sake of what he and Nina had shared last night—he would help find her more suitable employment. Somewhere she could shine, find herself again. And if she gave him any cheek about it …
His mind made up, he angled back. “I have contacts in the industry.”
She dragged her gaze from her untouched plate. “What industry?”
“Publishing. I’ll set up an interview or two in Sydney.”
Her eyes widened and she pushed to her feet. Her mouth worked soundlessly before she breathed out, “You’d do that for me?”
She could be near her sister and nephew, earn decent money. Keep her home. All she had to do was take a job which would be created after he pulled a few strings and stay the hell out of his life. His head—his pride—had been messed with enough.
But she was sighing and shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t let you do that.”
His temper spiked. “Why the hell not?”
“I can’t accept a job I haven’t won on my own merit.”
Well, she’d done it before, to get her job here. And sleeping with a rich stranger to get a leg up apparently wasn’t taboo either.
He leaned back against the rail and slid his hands into his trouser pockets. “Off nepotism? That’s very noble.”
“Not noble. I’ve learned my lesson. Next time I move on, it’ll be to something I’ve earned.”
His eyes narrowed on hers. She was playing him again, and, damn, she was good at it.
“Let me put it this way,” he said. “You need a job, a job that you know, and I insist on helping you make that happen.”
Her lips pressed together. “No.”
He withdrew his hands from his pockets. “Not even if it’ll get you back home to your family? I thought you wanted to rediscover yourself—you can’t do that here.”
“You’re right. I can’t. Not completely. But I have to believe that my reputation and credentials will get me the right job at the right time. I don’t know that I’d ever be able to gain the respect of the staff here. I won’t make that mistake twice. I won’t jump the queue and take on something I don’t deserve.”
He stopped less than an arm’s length away, and instantly the space between them crackled with heat. Despite their disagreeable past, and the battlefield they occupied now, the grooves in his mind slotted back into blistering memories of last night and the undeniable force that clawed at him whenever she was near.
He set his jaw. Got a grip. Slapped that mental wall back up.
“Nina, you can’t continue to work here.”
Her slim nostrils flared before she slowly nodded. “I understand. I do.” She glanced over their cold meals. “If it’s all the same with you, I won’t stay for dessert.”
She turned, and even as his throat and chest burned he noticed her limp as