‘Why the urgency?’ Rose was well aware of which particular development this was. There had been ongoing problems with it from day one. The island was very small and very difficult to access. Supplies, in the first stages of building, had been a nightmare to ship across and things had pretty much carried on with that handicap. Gabriel had mentally written the venture off as an ongoing white elephant. It had lost its appeal as a commercial venture, but she knew from the way he spoke about it that he had developed a peculiar fondness for the place. The original structure of a hotel had gradually morphed into a massive villa overlooking the wild side of the Atlantic and the details were more appropriate to a private residence than to a busy tourist spot. Gabriel now nurtured the plan of turning it into an exclusive fourteen bedroomed villa which would be rented for corporate entertaining or else hired by the super-wealthy for the occasional retreat from the rat race.
‘There are murmurs of an approaching hurricane. Eileen’s sweeping towards Florida but there’s a chance it might divert and if it hits us it’s going to be fatal for the project. There just aren’t sufficient bricks in place to stave off a category four.’
‘I’ll see what I can do…’Rose privately thought that there was nothing she could do. Time and urgency meant different things out there. The infrastructure on the island, from everything she read in the files, was basic. There were some shops, a school, transport to and from the island. Business was something that happened offshore, largely.
‘Good. And, in the meantime, sort out flights for me to get there. I’ll leave first thing in the morning or today if nothing’s available for tomorrow.’
‘Leave?’ Rose looked at him in astonishment. She could feel the blood seeping out of her face and she cleared her throat briskly. ‘Leave as in travel to an island which is on alert for a hurricane? Where would you stay when you got there? You’ve been there, Gabriel, and we’ve both seen detailed pictures of the place. There are no hotels.’
‘I could always camp down on the beach.’ He stood up and began prowling his office, deep in thought. As he prowled, Rose tried to imagine Gabriel caught up in a hurricane, at the mercy of the elements. The trip to the island was a convoluted one, involving two airports and a boat crossing. What if the hurricane hit while he was in the boat? He would be as vulnerable as an ant in a matchbox hurtling down a waterfall. She shivered and surfaced from the nightmarish reverie to find that he had stopped in front of her. Before she could take evasive action, he was leaning over her, caging her in, his face dark with anger.
‘Wake up, Rose!’
‘I’m sorry…’ She stuck her chin out defensively and thanked the stars that mind-reading wasn’t one of his many talents. If it had been, he wouldn’t have had much trouble deciphering the dread inside her as she contemplated the foolhardiness of what he proposed to do.
‘You’re no use to me mooning about the place,’ he snapped, thrusting his face aggressively towards hers.
Rose had no idea what he was talking about but, whatever it was, it was a darn sight safer than being accused of being no use to him because she was worried to death.
‘You come to work, Rose, and you leave the love struck business behind in the bedroom!’
Realisation dawned and she opened her mouth to protest but then immediately thought better of it. There had been too much entanglement of her private life with her professional one recently and it was time for her to re-define the boundaries.
‘Right,’ she agreed readily and was treated to an even more thunderous frown before he pushed himself away and strode back to sit behind his desk.
‘Cancel everything in my diary for the week ahead. I don’t anticipate being out there longer than a couple of days but there’s nothing predictable about the weather.’
‘It’s a ridiculous plan, Gabriel.’
‘Thank you for your opinion. That will be all for the moment.’ Somehow it seemed all wrong for his perfect secretary to have spent the night making passionate love to a man she barely knew. Because she hadn’t denied it and he knew her well enough by now to know that if she was innocent of the accusation she would have denied it vigorously. Despite the change in her appearance, her sense of morality was too ingrained.
What she got up to or didn’t get up to was, he acknowledged, a side issue. There were far bigger problems on his plate for him to give even a passing thought to Rose in the arms of a man, but he was finding it hard to rid himself of the image.
‘How was your theatre date on Friday?’ he heard himself asking. ‘Fun?’
‘What?’
‘Theatre? Last Friday? You were going to see Les Miserables?’
‘Oh. Right. Yes, of course. It was brilliant. Thank you.’ Rose wondered where the change in conversation was leading and decided that it was probably just his distracted way of taking his mind off the enormous problem of how to tackle several hundred thousand pounds worth of incomplete bricks and mortar that was in imminent danger of being reduced to rubble. In truth, he barely looked as though he was paying her the slightest bit of attention.
It was a learning experience to realise that this was the man whose possible brush with any danger whatsoever was enough to reduce her to a state of witless tension.
‘Joe was wonderful company!’ she added, more to remind herself that there were actually normal, genuine, caring men on the planet, men who were far more worthy of her care and attention than the brooding powerhouse sitting in front of her.
Which means what? Gabriel wondered. The mere fact that he was wondering was enough to rouse anger at his own weakness. Unlike most men, he had never personally found women to be an incomprehensible species. On the contrary. The women he had wined, dined and bedded had been as transparent as glass. Rose was of a different genetic make up. One minute she slotted nicely into the pre-packaged box in his head, the next minute she had wriggled out and was proving wrong everything he had thought of her. From capable, controlled, private, inoffensive but slightly frosty secretary to sexy, new style, new look, suddenly ambitious woman with a core of fire, to, apparently, vamp who would sleep happily with a man who barely registered as acquaintance on the How Well Do I Know You? chart.
Did she really imagine that he wanted to conduct a conversation about her nobody date when he had important things on his mind?
‘Is that female speak for the perfect gentleman?’ Gabriel asked sneeringly.
‘I take it that in the world of Gabriel Gessi, being the perfect gentleman is considered something of a crime?’ Rose asked, bristling.
‘Not a crime. Just ever so slightly…dull…’
‘Joe is anything but dull, as a matter of fact…’
‘There’s no need to sound so defensive, Rose! I believe you! I can’t imagine you would ever go out with someone as dull as dishwater. In fact, I can’t imagine anyone dull would know how to handle you!’
‘I don’t need handling. I’m not a wild animal.’
‘Well, you’re not most men’s idea of submissive either.’
‘I am not going to get embroiled in this.’ She took a few deep, steadying breaths. Until recently she had been submissive enough. At least on the work front. ‘I don’t want to discuss Joe.’
‘You’re the one who brought him up.’ Gabriel shrugged. Perfect gentlemen didn’t usually seduce their women into bed on date number one. So, whatever it was that had constituted their brilliant evening, it probably hadn’t been a vigorous romp in the hay, and that was enough to put him in a better mood. ‘But you’re right. There are more important things to discuss. When you’ve sorted out flights and transfers, let me know immediately and also I’ll need to have an hour or so with the boys in Finance, just