Gabrielle sighed. “They’ve wasted such a lot of years.”
So did we, came the unbidden thought. It all fell into place then. The reason he felt unsettled was because of what had happened in the hospital room this afternoon. It must have subconsciously stirred up memories of five years ago.
“Why did you leave, Gabrielle?”
She looked startled. “Um, when?” she asked, lowering her gaze to his chest.
“You know when.”
She shrugged, but still kept her eyes downward. “It wasn’t easy living with my father after my mother left. And before that it had never been much good, either.”
He paused. “No, why did you leave me?”
Her eyes lifted and he could see she’d known what he’d meant all along. “I explained it in the note.”
And he’d brushed that aside at the time, allowing work commitments to prevail. Nothing and no one had been going to stop him from making his millions. Not even this beautiful woman in his arms.
“Ahh, the note,” he murmured, half to himself. “You didn’t want me coming after you, if I remember rightly.”
She looked uneasy. “That’s right.”
And that made him wonder. “Why?”
She blinked, then gave a bland smile. “This is beginning to sound like an inquisition,” she joked, but her strained look told him she didn’t actually find it amusing.
He scowled. “What are you hiding, Gabrielle?”
Something flickered in her eyes, before she glanced downward at their nak*d bodies entwined on the bed. “Nothing, apparently,” she mused.
She wasn’t fooling him. She was using sex to get him to change the subject. And that meant she was definitely hiding something.
Or someone.
God, he felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. That thought had never occurred to him before. He’d always assumed he was enough for her.
He squared his shoulders, prepared for a blow. “Was there another man involved?”
Her eyes widened in total surprise. “What! No, of course not.”
Fierce relief washed over him. He began to breathe again. “Just as well,” he growled. “You’re my wife now and if another man comes looking for you, I’ll kill him.”
She stared for a moment, clearly surprised. Then her eyes softened. “Damien, you have no need to worry. I won’t be leaving you again.”
He expelled a breath. For once she didn’t sound as if their marriage was a fate worse than death, and suddenly he felt more than pleased about that. He’d never realized before how much he’d missed by not being married. He was enjoying being able to work alongside Gabrielle, coming home with her, sharing dinner, sleeping together. They were a couple.
And one day they might even have a family.
He swallowed hard. The thought of Gabrielle carrying his child made him feel kind of strange. Like he was standing on shifting sand.
“Damien?” she said in a low voice, querying his silence, sending him into action.
He eased her off him and rolled out of bed. “Let’s get something to eat,” he muttered, standing, glad to be back on solid ground.
The sound of water running in the shower roused Gabrielle at four the next morning. For a moment she lay there half-awake, remembering the feel of Damien’s lips on hers after they’d gone to bed. He’d taken her with his body, conquering her, dividing her, seeming to know what she wanted before she did. It had made for an incredible union.
She must have fallen asleep again because she woke to the sound of water still running in the shower. This time her eyelids flew open. What on earth was Damien doing in there?
She threw back the covers and hurried into the bathroom. And stopped dead when she saw him nak*d in the shower, his forehead pressed against the tiled wall as if he didn’t have the energy to hold himself up.
“Oh my God,” she said, racing across the room. She slid the glass door back, thankful to find the water cold. “Damien? Are you all right? What’s the matter?”
He looked up at her groggily. “I was hot,” he mumbled, his eyes not really focusing on her, his cheeks flushed.
She felt his forehead. His skin was warm despite the cold water running over him. “You’ve got a fever,” she said, turning the taps off.
He seemed to become aware of her. “Allergy.”
A slice of panic raced through her. Allergies could be life threatening. “You need an ambulance.”
“No!” He tried to straighten up. “My doctor. He knows. Call him.”
Her panic receded as common sense took hold. If it had been life threatening, Damien would be dead by now. Oh God, she couldn’t think that.
She took him by the arm. “Let me help you back to bed.”
He made a feeble attempt to step out of the cubicle. “I can make it,” he said, then swayed as he tried to stand by himself.
“I’m sure,” she said wryly, grabbing a towel to throw over his shoulders and dry him, but he pulled it away and wrapped it around his trim hips, looking thoroughly sexy and masculine. “Here. Lean on me.”
“I’m too heavy.”
“Just lean a little, then. I can manage.” She slowly led him back to the bedroom and helped him down on the bed. He groaned when his head touched the pillow, and she frowned as she looked down at him. “I’ll go call your doctor.”
“Good,” he rasped.
She hurried away and made the call after finding his doctor’s private number in the address book by the telephone. Thankfully the doctor seemed to take it in his stride that he was being called out before dawn.
When she came back, Damien had fallen asleep. His cheeks were flushed and he started mumbling. It was obvious he was a little delirious and that worried her. The doctor said he knew the problem and would come straight around, so she hoped he kept to his word. She didn’t like seeing Damien like this.
All at once he started to move restlessly. “Mum?”
Oh, heavens. “Damien?”
“I’m sorry, Mum. Sorry I couldn’t be…” He trailed off to sleep again, making Gabrielle wondered what he’d been about to say.
Just then the doctor arrived. “It’s a food allergy,” the older man said after she let him into the apartment and they went into the bedroom. “Some sort of preservative. It makes him dizzy and gives him a fever. He must have eaten some of it last night.” He put his bag down on the bed and gave Damien a cursory glance. “Do you know what he had for dinner?”
“Our housekeeper cooked lasagna, but I’m sure she must know about the allergy.” Gabrielle couldn’t imagine Damien risking this too often.
The doctor opened his bag and started to prepare an injection. “It’s hard to tell what’s in some foods. He might’ve got a good dose of it by accident.”
Deep concern filled her. “Isn’t there anything you can do about it?”
“There’s some allergy tests, but he won’t have them done. He says he can handle it.” His eyes held a rueful glint.
She found herself smiling back at him, relieved more than anything that he was here. “That sounds like Damien.”
He gave the injection, then looked up at her again. “By the way, I’m Ken. I’ve been Damien’s doctor for a few years now. I believe you’re the new Mrs. Trent.”
Her cheeks warmed. “So word’s out?”
“Definitely. And there are a few very disappointed ladies around the place, let me tell you.”
She pushed aside a sense of jealousy and let her mouth quirk with humor. “I’m sure they’ll get over it.” Not like her. She loved him too much to lose him again.
He gave her a speculative look, then nodded in approval. “You’ll be good for him.”
“I know,” she said, serious now.
Ken left not long after, saying he’d be back before lunch to check on his patient. Reassured that Damien was okay, she made herself a cup of coffee then curled up on the luxurious leather club chair by the window and watched him as he slept. It was a rare opportunity to look at the man she loved, without fear of him catching her.
At that thought she blinked. Good Lord. This is what it had come down to. Her sneaking peeks at Damien to satisfy the longing in her heart. Yet she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Everything about him… every feeling for him…was a precious thing to be cherished and savored.
It was just the way it was.
A few hours later he woke her, trying to get out of bed. “Damien?”
Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he turned his head slowly, his gaze sliding across the room at her. “What are you doing over there?”
“I fell asleep in the chair,” she said, getting to her feet.
He paused while he swallowed. “You should have gone to the spare room.”
“You might have needed me.”
Another pause. “I’m fine,” he said, but he didn’t move.
She walked over to him. “Where are you going, anyway?”
“To the bathroom…then the office.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Really? You can’t even stand up. Besides, it’s Saturday. There’s no need to go anywhere.”
“I work every day.” But he still sat there, like he was trying to get his balance. “Is Ken coming back?”
“Later this morning.” She touched his forehead and frowned at his damp skin. “Perhaps you should see about getting something done about this allergy?”
His mouth set. “No.”
She let that go. “Come on. I’ll take you to the bathroom.”
“I can do it myself.” He pushed himself up, then rocked on his feet.
“You’re one stubborn man,” she declared, pulling his arm around her shoulder. “Come on.”
A few minutes later she had him back in bed. “You were delirious earlier on, you know,” she said, trying to get through his thick skull this was serious and she had been very worried about him.
“I don’t remember,” he said, closing his eyes.
“You were talking to your mother.”
His eyelids shot open, and a hint of the old Damien was back. “Is that so?”
“You were talking about being sorry.” She considered him. “You really shouldn’t keep things inside you, Damien. It’s not good for you.”
“Perhaps I’ll hire a publicist,” he mocked, but it was weak at best.
She hid a smile. “I can see you’re starting to get better.”
“Yes. So stop mothering me.”
She winced inwardly even as she angled her chin. “I’m so glad my services are appreciated.” She turned on her heels and headed for the door. Of all the ungrateful…
“Gabrielle?”
Hurt, she wanted to tell him to drop dead, but the memories of finding him in the shower were still fresh in her mind. She stopped at the door and turned to look at him. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry.” His eyes softened with gratitude. “Thank you for looking after me.”
Oh, she was such a weak woman where he was concerned, she decided, as tender warmth entered her heart. “You’re welcome.”