A Bargain with the Enemy Read online

‘For God’s sake, Rafe, will you just—?’

  ‘I know, I know. Shut up,’ Rafe sighed heavily at Michael’s terse admonishment.

  Gabriel gave a shake of his head as he and Bryn finally left the gallery together, maintaining his hold on her elbow as the two of them walked towards the private lift at the end of the marble hallway. ‘I apologise for Rafe,’ he bit out abruptly. ‘As you may have gathered, he has a warped sense of humour.’ A warped sense of humour that on this occasion had been at Gabriel’s expense; Rafe knew and had played upon the fact that Gabriel hadn’t liked the interest he had shown in Bryn.

  ‘He seemed...very nice,’ Bryn answered him uncertainly as they stepped into the lift together.

  ‘Nice is not a word I would ever use to describe my brother,’ Gabriel rasped. ‘Annoying, irritating, sometimes infuriating, but never anything as insipid as “nice”.’ Even as he said it Gabriel knew he was being unfair to Rafe; after all, his brother had been the one to warn him that Bryn Jones was Sabryna Harper after Michael had decided against doing so.

  ‘Both your brothers were far more polite to me than I could ever have expected, in the circumstances,’ she murmured softly as they stepped out of the lift and walked down the hallway to Gabriel’s office.

  Gabriel shot her a sideways glance. ‘Than I led you to believe, perhaps?’

  ‘Well... Yes.’

  He drew in a sharp breath at the speculation in Bryn’s tone. ‘I advise you not to complicate an already impossible situation by falling for the charms of one of my brothers!’ he bit out harshly.

  ‘I wasn’t— I didn’t— Why would you even think I might do that?’ Bryn reacted with predictable accusation.

  ‘You already know the answer to that question, Bryn,’ Gabriel murmured as they entered his office, closing the door firmly behind them before turning Bryn in his arms, his hands resting lightly on the slenderness of her hips.

  ‘Do I?’

  ‘Yes.’ He nodded. ‘But just so that there’s no misunderstanding—if any of the D’Angelo bothers is going to be allowed to kiss these delectable lips today, then it’s going to be me,’ Gabriel assured her gruffly as he raised one of his hands to run a fingertip gently over her fuller, sensuous bottom lip.

  Her eyes darkened, cheeks suffusing with colour. ‘I’m not interested in being kissed by either Raphael or Michael,’ she breathed softly.

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Gabriel’s hand moved beneath her chin and tilted her face up towards his, his other arm moving lightly about her waist as he moulded the softness of her curves against his much harder ones. ‘How about me, Bryn? Are you interested in kissing me?’

  ‘Gabriel...’ she groaned breathily.

  It took every particle of willpower Gabriel possessed not to just take that kiss as he felt the way Bryn’s body trembled against his, but he knew that he couldn’t, wanting, needing Bryn to make the first move. ‘A single kiss, Bryn,’ he encouraged throatily. ‘For luck. To the success of the exhibition this evening.’ His breath caught in his throat as he waited for her answer.

  Bryn gazed up at him searchingly, longing, aching to once again feel Gabriel’s lips on hers, to lose herself in that pleasure. At the same time as she knew that a single kiss wouldn’t be enough, that she wanted so much more from Gabriel than just passion and pleasure. So very much more. And that Gabriel didn’t have any more than that to give her.

  ‘I can’t,’ she breathed softly as she pushed against his chest to be released.

  Something dark and primal moved in the depths of his eyes as his arms tightened about her. ‘Can’t or won’t, Bryn?’ he rasped harshly.

  She closed her eyes briefly before answering him. ‘Let me go, Gabriel.’

  His mouth thinned, a nerve pulsing in the tightness of his jaw. ‘Why are you doing this, Bryn?’ he groaned. ‘Why are you making us both suffer because of your stubbornness?’

  This wasn’t about Bryn being stubborn; it was so much more than that—she felt so much more than that. ‘You know why.’

  ‘Because you’re worried about your mother,’ Gabriel rasped. ‘Because of how you believe she would feel about the two of us being together.’

  Tears burned in her eyes. ‘And you don’t think that’s important?’ she choked. ‘You believe that I should just take what I want and to hell with how it affects anyone else?’

  ‘If I’m what you want, then, yes, damn it, that’s exactly what I think you should do!’ His eyes glittered darkly.

  Bryn gave a shake of her head. ‘You said it yourself, Gabriel. This is an impossible situation that doesn’t need to be made any more complicated than it already is.’

  ‘And when I said it I was warning you not to take Rafe’s flirtation seriously,’ he grated harshly.

  Bryn blinked back the heat of tears. ‘Gabriel, we only have one last day together to get through. Do you think we could try to do that without arguing?’

  His expression sharpened. ‘You think I’m just going to gracefully bow out of your life after tonight?’

  She tensed. ‘I was under the impression— Eric told me weeks ago that you would be returning to the Paris gallery after the opening night of the New Artists Exhibition.’

  ‘Did he?’ Gabriel gave a humourless smile.

  Bryn looked up at him searchingly, a sick feeling forming in the pit of her stomach as he met her gaze unblinkingly. ‘You don’t intend going back to Paris tomorrow?’ she guessed weakly.

  ‘No, I don’t,’ he answered with satisfaction. ‘In fact, Rafe, Michael and I were discussing that very thing when you arrived. Michael is flying to New York tomorrow to take over the gallery there for a month, Rafe is going to Archangel in Paris and I’m staying right here to oversee the rest of the New Artists Exhibition and auction.’

  And Bryn knew that the exhibition was being opened to the public tomorrow, the paintings to be on display until they were included in the next Archangel auction in two weeks’ time.

  Which meant that Gabriel was going to be in London for at least those same two weeks, possibly longer—and his very presence in London would continue to be such a torment and torture that she wouldn’t know a moment’s peace.

  ‘Let me go, Gabriel,’ she instructed. ‘Please,’ she added as his arms remained firmly about her waist. ‘I have to be at the coffee shop by ten o’clock.’

  He frowned darkly as he slowly released her. ‘You’re working today?’

  ‘Of course I’m working today,’ she dismissed impatiently as she stepped away from him, finally able to breathe again now that she wasn’t pressed up against the disturbing length of his body. ‘I haven’t sold any of my paintings yet, and I still have my rent to pay at the end of the month,’ she added ruefully.

  Gabriel moved to lean back against the front of his desk. ‘As of this morning, one of your paintings has a reserved sticker on it.’

  Her gaze sharpened. ‘It does?’

  Gabriel nodded. ‘Michael wants it.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘He does?’

  Gabriel smiled ruefully. ‘Hmm.’

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘The rose.’

  The dying red rose, Bryn’s representation of the death of hopes and dreams rather than just the flower itself.

  Did the austere Michael D’Angelo, a man who gave the appearance of being so totally self-contained, a man who surely had no hopes and dreams to die, appreciate the full meaning of her painting?

  ‘That’s— I’m flattered,’ Bryn murmured softly.

  Gabriel nodded grimly. ‘You should be. Michael’s private art collection is very exclusive. I have every reason to believe that Lord Simmons is very interested in purchasing one too.’

  ‘That’s...amazing.’ Bryn’s eyes glowed excitedly as she reached out and grasped his hands impulsively. ‘This is really
going to happen, isn’t it, Gabriel? I’m really going to sell some of my paintings, maybe even be able to paint full-time!’

  ‘It’s as real as it gets, yes,’ Gabriel confirmed huskily as he pulled her in between his parted thighs before placing her hands against his chest. ‘Tonight is your night, Bryn.’ His hands cupped either side of her face as he gave in to the hunger and kissed her gently on the lips that had haunted and tormented him for the past five years. ‘And I want you to enjoy it. Every single moment of it,’ he encouraged.

  ‘Oh, I will,’ she assured him happily, her hands warm against his chest. ‘I— Thank you, Gabriel, for giving me this chance. I really— I know I’ve been difficult on occasion—’ she grimaced ‘—but I—I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me.’

  Gabriel could only hope that Bryn still felt that way after tonight.

  The past two weeks of being close to Bryn, but never quite close enough, had been enough of a hell for Gabriel to know that the two of them couldn’t go on like this indefinitely, that something had to change, and that it wasn’t going to be the way he felt about Bryn.

  So he had made his arrangements accordingly. Carefully and quietly. Arrangements that would come to full fruition later this evening.

  And he wasn’t sure Bryn would ever forgive him.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘IS IT EVERYTHING you hoped it would be?’

  Bryn turned to smile warmly at Eric as he came to stand beside her. ‘It’s so much more!’ Her smile widened as he handed her one of the glasses of champagne he carried.

  There were over two hundred people crowded into the west gallery for this invitation-only showing, the men all wearing evening suits, the women chic and glittering in their evening gowns and expensive jewellery. Two dozen waiters circulated amongst them carrying trays of finger food and glasses of champagne and half a dozen huge arrangements of flowers perfumed the brightly lit room, all adding to Bryn’s light-headed euphoria.

  Bryn had chosen to wear a simple black sheath of an above-the-knee length, her only jewellery a simple silver bracelet about one of her wrists and a silver locket at her throat, both of them presents from her mother.

  Her smile faded a little at thoughts of her mother, knowing how much Mary would have loved all of this, how proud she would have been of Bryn’s success. Instead, Bryn still hadn’t so much as dared to tell her mother about the exhibition; how could she when that exhibition was being held at the Archangel Gallery?

  As might be expected, the D’Angelo brothers all looked amazingly handsome in their evening suits as they stood head, and sometimes shoulders, above the other guests, the darkness of their different lengths of hair becoming a sable sheen below the glittering lights of the chandeliers above them. Michael was as remotely austere as ever when he gave her a brief nod of acknowledgement earlier, Rafe as rakishly devil-may-care as he shot her another wink.

  But to Bryn’s biased gaze Gabriel was far and away the most distinguished man in the room, and she once again found her gaze shifting to the other side of the gallery where he stood in conversation with David Simmons. His mesmerising and dark good looks drew Bryn’s gaze to him again and again as if pulled by a magnet, her heart now skipping a beat as Gabriel laughed easily at something the older man had just said to him.

  A heart that ached. To be with Gabriel. To make love with him, just once.

  * * *

  Gabriel stilled as he felt a prickle of awareness, of being watched, at his nape and down his spine. Allowing his gaze to move unhurriedly about the room, he sought the source of that awareness even as he continued his conversation with the enthusiastic David Simmons.

  Bryn.

  Standing beside Eric on the other side of the crowded gallery, her eyes a deep and misty grey as they looked directly into his, the fullness of her lips curving into an enigmatic smile.

  Gabriel raised his champagne glass to her in a silent toast; the exhibition was only an hour old but already Bryn’s paintings were noticeably attracting the most attention.

  Her smile widened as she accepted his silent toast, her eyes glowing. With happiness? Or something else?

  ‘—keep you any longer when I can see I’m keeping you from where you really want to be,’ David drawled dryly.

  Gabriel drew his gaze reluctantly from Bryn’s as he turned back to the other man. ‘Sorry?’

  The older man chuckled good-naturedly. ‘I advise you go to her, man!’

  Gabriel gave a rueful smile. ‘Is it that obvious?’

  David continued to smile indulgently. ‘Lovely-looking girl. Beautiful as well as talented. Deadly combination, hmm?’

  ‘Deadly,’ Gabriel accepted heavily.

  ‘Then go to it, man.’ David gave him an encouraging slap on the shoulder. ‘Before that rascal of a brother of yours beats you to it,’ he added with a pointed look at Rafe making his way determinedly in Bryn’s direction.

  ‘Damn you, Rafe,’ Gabriel muttered impatiently even as he placed his empty champagne glass on the tray of one of the passing waiters before striding forcefully across the room to intercept his brother. ‘This isn’t what we agreed your role would be this evening, Rafe!’ He glowered in warning.

  Rafe raised mocking brows. ‘I just thought I would keep Bryn company while I’m waiting. She looks absolutely stunning this evening, by the way.’

  ‘Hands off, Rafe,’ he growled.

  His brother grinned unrepentantly. ‘Does Bryn know how damned possessive you are over her?’

  ‘Yes.’ He frowned grimly, not sure that Bryn wasn’t actually going to hate him by the end of this evening.

  Rafe chuckled. ‘And have you told her how you feel about her yet?’

  ‘Go to hell, Rafe.’

  Rafe looked comfortably unconcerned. ‘Of course. Why do things the easy way when you can so easily complicate the hell out of them?’ He gave a rueful shake of his head. ‘At this rate you’re going to end up as cold and remote as Michael!’

  Gabriel glanced across to where their older brother managed to remain withdrawn even while mingling with their guests. ‘He likes his life that way.’ He shrugged.

  ‘But you don’t, not anymore. Which is why—’ Rafe turned back to Gabriel, brows raised ‘—complicated or not, you should just grab your woman and to hell with everything else!’

  ‘We both know it isn’t that simple where Bryn is concerned.’ Gabriel grimaced.

  ‘Then I suggest you make it that simple and put the rest of us out of our misery.’

  ‘Your turn will come, Rafe,’ Gabriel warned impatiently. ‘And when it does we’ll see just how well you deal with it. And her.’

  Rafe gave a scornful snort. ‘There isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that I’m going to let some woman—any woman!—come between me and my bachelor lifestyle.’

  ‘Oh, it will come, Rafe, take my word for it, and when it does I’m going to enjoy seeing you have to eat your words.’ Gabriel chuckled with satisfaction. ‘In the meantime, keep your lethal charms away from Bryn,’ he added firmly.

  ‘Just can’t stand the competition, hmm?’

  ‘You’re too irritating for me to consider you serious competition,’ Gabriel drawled dismissively, his gaze once again returning to, and remaining on, Bryn as she chatted with Eric. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go and talk to “my woman”.’ But before he could even begin to cross the room to Bryn’s side he saw her face pale, her eyes widening in distress as she stared across at the entrance to the gallery.

  And Gabriel knew, without needing to turn and look, that the moment of truth had arrived.

  ‘Go now, Rafe!’ he rasped harshly as he strode towards Bryn.

  * * *

  Bryn was sure she had to be hallucinating, brought about, no doubt, by the strain of the past two weeks and
too much champagne on an empty stomach; she had been too excited about this evening to even think about eating today!

  Because she couldn’t really be looking at her mother and Rhys standing in the entrance to the gallery; it had to be her guilty thoughts of a few minutes ago that made her imagine she could.

  Except... Bryn was sure she would never have imagined Rhys looking so handsome in an evening suit; as far as she was aware her stepfather didn’t even own an evening suit. In fact, she didn’t think she had ever seen Rhys in anything other than jeans and casual tops, T-shirts or sweaters, depending on the time of year. He had worn a suit at his wedding with Mary, of course, but as far as Bryn knew that had been put at the back of his wardrobe the day after the wedding and forgotten about.

  Her mother looked slender and beautiful, of course, in her favourite gown, the same deep grey as her eyes, her ivory skin flawless, pale peach lip gloss on her parted lips.

  A smile now curved those peach-coloured lips, grey eyes lighting up with excitement, as Mary looked straight across at Bryn before her attention was distracted by Raphael D’Angelo as he joined them in the doorway, speaking briefly before kissing Mary’s hand and shaking Rhys’s.

  Bryn knew there was no way she could have imagined that.

  Which meant her mother and Rhys really were here. How on earth had—?

  Gabriel!

  Gabriel had to have done this.

  But why?

  Why would Gabriel do something so potentially destructive to what should have been a glitteringly successful evening for the Archangel Gallery? Was he, despite having consistently denied it, still so absorbed in the past that he was willing to take his revenge against Mary and Bryn at the cost of that success and all the weeks of hard work that had gone into this exhibition?

  No.

  Bryn couldn’t believe that of him. She wouldn’t believe that of the man she loved and had come to know so well these past few weeks. There had to be another reason, an innocent reason, for Gabriel having deliberately invited her mother and Rhys to the exhibition.

  ‘Bryn? Bryn!’