The Notorious Gabriel Diaz

Once home, she briefly dropped in to make sure Freddy was all right, and then drove to her parents’ house—to find neither of them there and the house in darkness.

On top of everything that had been going on this could only mean bad news—which was confirmed when she called her father on his mobile to be told that they were at the hospital.

‘Your mother had a turn.’

He was holding it together, but with difficulty. Lucy could hear that down the phone line.

‘I didn’t want to worry you. You’ve been worried enough already. At any rate, they’re doing tests, but they think she may have had a mild panic attack. They’ll keep her in overnight. There’s no need to get yourself into a tizzy about it….’

But that was easier said than done.

In the space of a couple of days her world had shifted on its axis. Her comfortable routine had been blown apart.

At the hospital, exhausted after a day’s worth of travelling, Lucy was cheered to hear that her mother had indeed suffered only a mild panic attack, but when the doctor took her aside, with her father, and gravely told them that they should make sure that Celia was kept as stress-free as possible, she could only think of that offer Gabriel had made.

What price high-minded principles when her mother was lying on a hospital bed and her father was staring down the barrel of a gun?

Would it be the end of the world for her? Was she really prepared to sacrifice her parents for the wonderful prize of her virginity?

It was dark by the time she eventually made it back to her cottage. After a day cooped up indoors Freddy was raring for some fun and she spent half an hour outside with him. Her mind was clouded with anxiety as she threw his ball and watched as he fetched it, romping back to her triumphantly and waiting so that the exercise could be repeated.

Lucy knew what she had to do, but it wasn’t going to be easy.

And yet the memory of that searing kiss leapt into her head and her heart began to pound.

The palms of her hands were clammy when, an hour later, after she had tried and failed to have something to eat, she tapped Gabriel’s number into her telephone.

The business card he had given her displayed a dizzying array of numbers but he had handwritten his cell number, which probably meant that it was a number only released to a small number of privileged people. She figured that the women who had that number probably thought they had won the lottery.

He picked up on the third ring and immediately she wondered where he was. At the office? In his house or apartment, or whatever expensive pad he called home? It certainly wouldn’t be a quaint little house in the suburbs!

‘It’s me. It’s Lucy. Lucy Robins. I came to see you at your off—’

‘My memory is in perfect working order,’ Gabriel said drily. He had literally just stepped through the front door of his sprawling house in Kensington. It was the one of the most prestigious houses in one of the most prestigious roads in London.

He began removing his tie, heading to the kitchen to pour himself a whisky. Amazing. Even the sound of her voice had an invigorating effect on his libido.

‘I’m taking it you’ve had a little think about the conversation we had today…?’ he encouraged, when her awkward, stammering introduction was followed by complete silence.

‘Yes, I have.’

‘And you’ve come to what conclusion? That your father is to face those cruel, unforgiving and heartless scales of justice and reap his due rewards?’

‘No…’

That single monosyllable sounded as though it had been dragged out of her, but Gabriel was unperturbed by that. Had she really been as repulsed by him as she had tried to convince him then the offer would have been withdrawn. But she wasn’t. Reaching for a glass, he smiled to himself—the satisfied smile of a predator that has successfully corralled its prey and can look forward to enjoying the catch.

‘Maybe we can talk,’ she muttered.

‘Count on it. I’ll be with you tomorrow.’ Some meetings would have to be rearranged, but she was a prize that would be worth that small inconvenience.

‘No!’ Lucy was alone in the cottage, but she still looked guiltily around her—as though at any moment the walls might decide to spout ears. Have Gabriel swan down to Somerset? She could think of nothing worse! There was no way she would ever let her parents suspect that she had struck this deal. They would be horrified. It would be her shameful secret and would have to be kept exclusively in London. A shameful weekend secret. It was the only way. ‘I… I can come to London at the weekend…’

‘Not sure I can wait that long.’

‘Please. It’s only two days away. If you give me your address…or better still we could meet at…a restaurant…or something…’

‘I’ll text you my address.’ Anticipation roared through him as it never had before. ‘When I see you I don’t want anyone around.’ He was already thinking of that slender, loose-limbed body, as graceful as a dancer’s. He would definitely have to have a cold shower tonight. ‘I can’t wait….’

CHAPTER THREE

TWO DAYS LATER Lucy was back on the train, speeding up to London. On the one hand she was a nervous wreck. Gabriel was no longer someone she could shove to the back of her mind and forget because he wasn’t physically around.

He had phoned her twice since her decision to give him what he wanted. She felt as if he was keeping tabs on her, making sure his quarry wasn’t allowed any second thoughts, although his conversations were not at all threatening. He asked her about her day and expressed interest in the details. Lucy didn’t believe for a minute that he really cared one way or the other about successfully transplanted orchids or the large order the garden centre had taken from a chain of hotels in the north. She knew that he was trying to put her at her ease, but instead of feeling relieved she just felt increasingly as if she had been bought and was now being primed for consumption.

On the other hand the wheels were in motion for her father’s reprieve.

She had told her dad haltingly, because lying didn’t come easy—especially lying to her parent—that she had managed to get in touch with Gabriel and the meeting had been a good one.

‘I think he might be prepared to let you off,’ she had said only the morning before.

A more suspicious parent would have immediately jumped to the right conclusion that any favour granted from someone like Gabriel Diaz would require a hefty payback, but suspicion didn’t run deep in Nicholas Robins’s bones. He was a man who saw the good in people, and he had had no trouble accepting that Gabriel Diaz had been open to persuasion.

‘It’s a first-time offence,’ she had offered by way of explanation for a decision that made no sense, ‘and I don’t know—maybe he doesn’t want to get on the wrong side of the local people by dragging you through the courts. I… er…told him how sorry you were, and how affected everyone in the community would be if you were to be punished…how they close ranks against outsiders…’

‘And did you tell him that I will be willing to sacrifice all my pay until the debt’s cleared? I could get a second job…something to bring a little money in… The bulk of my earnings could go towards paying him back…. Did you mention that I had already started making repayments?’

Lucy hadn’t had the heart to tell her father that the likelihood of him returning to his old job was about as likely as a trip to the moon. Instead she had waxed lyrical about Gabriel’s wonderfully sympathetic nature…the vast reserves of wealth that had enabled him to write off her father’s debt as a mere bagatelle that could be swept under the carpet…his empathy for a man who had borrowed money, misguidedly, for a very worthwhile cause…

She’d had to stop herself from laughing out loud at the one hundred percent inaccurate and ridiculous picture she had painted of a man who was just the opposite of the one she had so feverishly described to her father.

The main thing was that her father no longer faced the threat of being thrown into prison. Also, her mother had been released from the hospital and was cheered by this change in their fortunes.

They were both so naive that Lucy could have wept, but she’d kept up the optimistic front and only sagged when she’d got to the station and bade farewell to her village for the weekend.

Details to finalise, she had told them, and then, to add credence to her story, she had hinted that she liked Gabriel more than she was letting on.

All in all she had given an award-winning performance. She hated herself for it, but her hands were tied.

Now she stared down at the overnight bag that was on the seat next to her. She was travelling first class at Gabriel’s insistence. Well, it was preferable to the car he had offered to send for her, or the helicopter that he’d assured her would be no great trouble. She had explained a lot to her parents, but there was no way she could have explained a helicopter landing in the village square to collect her.

As soon as her eyes alighted on the overnight bag her pulses began to race and she had to lean back and briefly close her eyes. Tonight she should have been going to the movies with two of her girlfriends, who had now also been on the receiving end of a few white lies. Her life, which had been so uncomplicated before, now seemed to be comprised of a string of half-truths. She was an innocent little insect that had inadvertently strayed into a spider’s web, and her every move ensured greater entrapment.

Gabriel had told her that a driver would be sent to collect her from the station. But she walked out into the blinding sunshine to see immediately that any prolonged period of reprieve was at an end—because Gabriel himself was there, casually dressed and looking ludicrously out of place amidst the banks of stressed-out, tired passengers leaving the station.

She couldn’t fail to notice how many women looked at him. He, with arrogant indifference, appeared not to notice the attention he was getting. He was lounging against the railings, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. Across the street she could see his black limo, parked and waiting.

Gabriel spotted her as soon as she walked out of the station and noted with dissatisfaction that she seemed to have gone to great pains to dress in the least flattering outfit conceivable. Not jeans this time, but combat trousers the colour of sludge and yet another T-shirt. The flat shoes had been replaced with trainers. He didn’t think that he had ever gone out with or even personally known any woman who possessed a pair of trainers. As far as he was concerned that kind of footwear was suitable only for the gym.