THE RELUCTANT BRIDE (7 page)

“
You've
an appointment with Human Resources at nine thirty,” said
Jenny.

“
Cancel
it.”

But
when she got to Rod's office he had already left, Sue told her with
another knowing look and wouldn't be back until late afternoon.

All
day Gabriella hid in her office, giving Jenny the excuse that she was
catching up on reports but in reality unable to face the speculative
looks of those the grapevine, alias Sue Landon, had already reached.

It
was almost five when she heard Rod's car drive into the car park
below her window. She gave him a few minutes to get to his desk, then
phoned.

“
I
meant it,” she said. “I'm not going to marry you.”

There
was silence on the other end of the phone.

“
I've
been thinking about it all day and really, the whole thing is
ridiculous. I should never have listened to you.”

She
listened now but the silence continued. Why didn't he say something?”

“
I'm
no actress, Rod. No one is going to believe that I – that we –
and -and I can't possibly tie myself down for five years. I'm not
even sure I want to stay with Englands. There are other firms, you
know, and I've been considering a change. Somewhere bigger, with more
potential. Perhaps even abroad, the market's opening up now, you
know, and my French is pretty good.” She found herself
inventing wildly, babbling into the silence, and drew herself up
short. “Besides – I know I should have told you beforfe
but – there's my fiance.”

That
drew him. “Your fiance?”

“
Bernard.”
She swallowed and waited.

“
I'm
coming round.”

“
Rod,
it's no good arguing about it. I've made up my mind.”

“
I'll
be with you in one minute.”

“
I'm
just leaving -”

“
Stay
there.”

“
Rod,
I've got an appointment -” Damn him. He had put the phone down.
But she could still avoid him. Grabbing her briefcase she stuffed
papers into it, slung her jacket over her shoulders, locked her desk
and was out of the door.

He
caught her as she was unlocking her car. His hand closed over hers
and took possession of her keys.

“
Your
place or mine,” he drawled.

“
Neither.
I've no time to talk now, Rod. I told you. I've an urgent
appointment.”

“
I
imagine that's as close to the truth as the excuses you've just been
making.”

“
I
resent that. We're not all liars, Rod.”

He
raised an eyebrow. “We don't all go back on our word, either.”

“
I
didn't give my word. Well, if I did, you bullied me into it. I don't
consider that it has any meaning in those circumstances!”

“
Well,
it's obvious you've got cold feet, Gabriella.” He gazed at her
for a full minute, lips pursed in a soundless whistle. “Look,
I'm the last one to force you into anything -” Oh really? She
wanted to laugh in his face. Rod was a world master at forcing people
to do what he wanted. “But I can see you need to talk this
through. Why don't you come back to my apartment? I'll knock up
something to eat and we can discuss it properly without interruption
or distraction.”

It
was a perfectly reasonable suggestion. But back to his apartment?
Alone? Oh, for heaven's sake, she scolded herself. She was over
twenty one and Rod wasn't a rapist. Even if he made a pass he would
surely take no for an answer. She risked a glance at him, seeing from
beneath her lashes the sensuality of the dark face, the strength of
the long body that leaned against her car, and shivered.

“
I'll
have to phone my mother,” she said.

“
Will
she be all right alone?”

“
Yes,
I always leave a meal prepared in case I have to work late. But I
can't stay all evening,” she warned.

His
eyes narrowed in amusement. “Don't worry, I've other plans for
later.”

With
whom? she wondered. “I'm sure I don't want to keep you,”
she said stiffly. “May I have my keys now?”

He
lived in the older part of the town, a street of Edwardian
semi-detached houses converted into luxury apartments. She parked her
car behind his on the long curving drive that led to the entrance of
one of the largest properties and looked around with curiosity as he
led her into his apartment on the ground floor.

The
living room was spacious and he had painted the walls and doors and
the carved woodwork of the Adam style fireplace white. The beige and
black furnishings gave the room a neutral look but he had introduced
colour with modern paintings, books, comfortable cushions and an
Oriental rug before the hearth. He had good taste, she admitted. Or
had one of his girlfriends advised him?

Rod
knelt and switched on the gas logs that filled the fireplace.

“
The
phone's over there. You can call your mother while I see what I can
find in the fridge.”

“
Mum?
I'll be home later. Can you heat up your dinner? - Yes, I'll have
eaten – Well, actually I'm with Rod.” Gabriella held the
phone away from her ear. “Really, Mum, it's only a meal, don't
read too much – Look, I won't be late – Yes, I know
you'll be all right. Bye, Mum.”

She
put the phone down with a sigh. Rod certainly had one fan. Her mother
was already planning the wedding.

Good
smells were drifting into the room from a door at the far end. She
wandered towards it, finding Rod looking very large and almost
domesticated in the small kitchen.

“
Like
pasta?” he asked. “Tagliatelle alla Romana, my
speciality.”

She
wondered how many women he had cooked it for.

“
There's
some salad in the fridge. Oil and vinegar on the shelf. Cutlery in
that drawer.” He followed er to the table with glasses and a
bottle of red wine. “Right, ten more minutes.” He slipped
a CD into the player and switched it on before returning to the
kitchen.

She
sat in one of the big feather cushioned armchairs, warmed by the
fire, soothed by the heart-stirring melodies of Saint-Saens' Organ
Symphony. She was surprised to find herself strangely contented and
relaxed. She could almost say she was enjoying herself. Of course, it
was only the warm comfortable room, the music …

She
woke to the touch of a hand against her hair and opened her eyes to
see Rod bending over her.

“
It
seemed a shame to wake you,” he said., “but I haven't
found a way to stop pasta glueing itself together if it's kept
waiting.”

“
Sorry.”
Her cheeks warmed. How long had she slept? How long had he stood
there watching her? “It looks good,” she said, stumbling
to the table. “Do you enjoy cooking?”

“
Sometimes.
Just simple things, but most nights I eat out.”

I'm
sure you do. Gabriella pictured a gaggle of girlfriends all vying to
cook intimate dinners for him.

“
Now
tell me about Bernard,” Rod demanded when they had finished
eating.

“
He's
an accountant.”

“
Yes?”

“
We've
known each other two years.”

“
What's
he like?”

She
toyed with the last of her coffee, avoiding his intent gaze. “He's
– very nice. Quiet. Very dependable. We like the same things.
Concerts, walking -”

“
Have
you slept with him?”

“
That's
none of your business!”

“
Well,
when are you planning to marry?”

“
We
– haven't exactly fixed a date yet. Bernard still has to
qualify, but -”

Rod
leaned back in his chair. “It sounds as if I'd be doing you a
favour by taking you away from him.”

“
My
God, you're arrogant! How can you possibly judge -?”

“
Your
eyes don't light up when you talk about him. You don't find him
physically attractive – and if you really are planning to marry
him, it's for all the wrong reasons.”

“
What
do you mean?” she whispered.