Chapter Six
Evelyne clung to the belief that Gabriel would return, did not allow the fear he wouldn’t to take root.
Perhaps he wished to never have her throw herself at him again, but he wouldn’t leave her without a way to survive. If he was so worried about what Alexandre would think about seduction, then he’d certainly be too indebted to Alex to leave her to fend for herself forever.
And more… He was too good of a man to let that be how he abandoned her. He had brought her here because of Alex, but he had not sat at dinners with her, listened to her, had actual conversations with her for Alex. He had not procured her paint and such for the house for Alex. That had been for her.
There was something more between them than just her brother, than just him saving her.
She told herself that for three long weeks.
Long weeks where she spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about that night.
About the way his mouth had shaped to hers.
Brief, far too brief, but he had kissed her back.
His grip on her wrists had done more in a few seconds than grappling with Jordi in the dark completely naked had ever done.
Which had given her some pause, as she recounted the moments over these weeks. Maybe she was a child. She thought not being a virgin meant something, but everything in that kiss, those few, minor touches with Gabriel in his bedroom had been something…far different than what she’d experienced.
It was like a whole dark, promising world she didn’t fully know about.
But wanted to. And he had not been unmoved. She was not imagining anything. She had felt his want throb between them—in his gaze, in his anger. And when she’d told him that he was only angry at himself for wanting her, she had hit the mark. She knew it.
He had been cold and cutting, but she had seen underneath that. Just like she’d said—she knew all about angry men.
Besides, he hadn’t really given a good reason for nothing to happen between them. He’d never said: Evelyne, I do not want you. No, he had brought up her brother, made snide remarks about her.
But he had not denied that an interesting and complicated heat erupted between them.
Sometimes, she touched herself and thought of him, and she was quite determined if—no, when—he returned, she would tell him so.
Watch his reaction. She could picture it.
He would get that pinched look about his mouth, but his nostrils would flare, his eyes would heat and his hands would curl into fists as if he could fight away his attraction to her.
She smiled to herself, because he couldn’t. He wouldn’t have run away if he could.
Almost exactly a month after their kiss, three months into her life here on the Maine coast, Gabriel returned.
For the first time, he did not wait until nightfall. He appeared at the front door one late dreary afternoon. He carried enough bags that excitement and joy twined with troublesome hope so that her heart actually trembled.
Did he intend to stay for some time? Was it possible she wouldn’t be quite so lonely anymore? Was it possible he had dealt with whatever…reservations he might have about her to want to explore this thing between them?
“What is all this?” she asked as he carried it all inside and dropped the bags and one box on the floor in the sitting room.
She had repainted this room, switched out some of the furniture.
It still wasn’t perfect, but with one entire wall a window out to the sea, she was determined to keep working at it until she was satisfied.
So she could sit in here and enjoy the beauty of the world outside.
“Supplies,” he said, the word clipped. “We will go through them, and I will put them where you’d like, but I only have a few hours.”
She blinked, some of her hope deflating, though a seed of it stubbornly held on. Surely he didn’t mean… “A few hours?”
“I have a plane to catch at three.”
This made no sense. He was here with all these things, and he was leaving in a few hours? On a plane? “To where?”
He did not answer her question. Instead, he opened one of the bags he’d brought. “These are contacts that will change the color of your eyes. The instructions for how to wear them are on the box, or I’m sure you can find some instructional videos to help learn if that’s necessary.”
“Change the color of my eyes, but…why?”
“If you dye your hair as I’ve suggested multiple times, wear these color contacts and dress to hide your figure, you may enter society here.
You will use the fake name and backstory I gave you.
You should be able to take care of yourself just fine without these risky visits.
I have brought you a car. You can drive, can’t you?
I have obtained you an American license that no one will be able to question. ”
It fully dawned on her. This was not a visit. This was not going back to the way things were or moving forward on a new path. Together. “You’re leaving me,” she said as he crushed all that horrible hope, causing a river of pain. “For good.”
He did not look at her. He looked at all he’d brought. His words were formal and final. “It is for the best.”
She would never see him again. She would never see anyone she knew again, or at least until she was very old. She would be wholly alone in this world for so long as her father drew breath. Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them back out of habit.
She looked at him, refusing to meet her gaze. No. Just…no. She would not let him cast her off. Not easily. “Who’s best?”
He still didn’t look at her. “You can drive, can’t you? I thought I remembered Alexandre making sure of it,” he asked again instead.
“Yes, I can drive,” she retorted, irritation and panic mounting in equal measure. “Though I suppose I haven’t done it on the side of the road that they do here.”
“You’ll pick it up. Town isn’t far.”
Town isn’t far. This was beyond anything she had considered, and her brain was struggling to catch up. She had spent the past month alone and now he was cutting off what little joy, what little connection she had.
All her hope. Again.
“What if… What if something happens?”
“Should you have an emergency, you can of course still contact me, but I cannot continue to live my life if I am continually popping in to keep you going every few weeks. I have work, Evelyne. A life.”
“Other women?” she demanded, and didn’t care if she sounded a bit like a harpy. She wanted to harp.
He gave her a sharp, disapproving look. Finally. “There are not other women. There are women. Because the word other suggests there is a woman in my life. And there is not. You are like…a ward. At best.”
“At best.” She laughed, bitterly she knew. There are women. Oh, she wanted to hurt him. She shook with rage, and she was self-aware enough to know underneath the rage was fear, but she was so tired of being afraid.
“All the boxes and bags are labeled. It should be everything you need. You have a driver’s license, a passport, credit cards. Everything you could possibly need to be Lina Marino.”
She tried so hard to fight back the tears, to focus on the anger, but this was so gutting. She had survived these past three months on his visits. And maybe she had been in some denial. Denial that this would be forever.
Now he was describing a forever in which she couldn’t even be herself. She had to pretend to be some Italian billionaire’s wife. Not even this Italian billionaire’s wife.
She was free from abuse, but not free. She was utterly alone, and she could not even be herself. When he was here was the only time she could even begin to experience what herself meant. How would she discover who she really was now?
The first tear fell, and she quickly dashed it away with the back of her hand. “Is this really necessary?” she croaked out. “Couldn’t you have just made me promise not to kiss you?”
He got very stiff then. “This isn’t about that.”
Fury leaped at that, twining in with the sadness, disappointment and fear. She looked up at him now, eyes narrowed. She settled on the fury, held on to it, nurtured it. She wanted that above tears. She wanted to hurt him as he was hurting her.
Fair? No. But none of this was fair. And if it wasn’t, if nothing could be, if even in escape she could not have any sort of freedom, then why be fair? Or rational? Or anything other than furious?
“No, Gabriel, you do not get to pretend. You are punishing me because I had the audacity to suggest we might enjoy each other.”
“It is not punishment,” he returned flatly. But she saw something in his eyes. A kind of softening. Which did not make her feel better. It somehow made her madder. That he could be soft, that he could be interested, that he could be so many things when it came to her and want to cut them all off.
“I am not punishing you, Evelyne,” he said with that infuriating gentleness.
“You are. You’re leaving me alone. Forever.”
Gabriel thought he could fight anything. He’d prepared to fight anything, even a bit of hysteria, but the tear that tracked down her cheek sorely tested that preparedness. Because it wasn’t hysteria. There was a bone-deep sadness in her, even underneath this new flash of temper.
She had been cut off from all she knew, and he was her only anchor. But he could not safely continue to be this for her. She might be upset, but he was doing her a favor.
If she got under the surface any deeper than she already was, he would only make her miserable. He would only be shades of her father. Even if he never laid a hand on her, he would not be the man she thought.
He could not be the man she needed. Calm, rational, in control.
“If you wear the disguise, you can meet people. Make friends. Make a life here.” He tried to keep his voice from softening. “It will not be so bad.”
“But it will all be a lie.” She dashed another tear off her cheek, but another spilled over and she left it there to trail down the soft gold of her skin. “No one will really know me. I cannot ever be me.”