Chapter Thirteen #2
“Oh, thanks, Mary.” Delia entered the vestibule and made her way up the huge central staircase while the older woman hurried to the kitchen.
Delia, energized by the run to the house, pushed the heavy oak door open. “Gabriel, have you forgotten—” She halted mid-sentence. He was in a meeting with the bank manager, and she had barged in without knocking. “Oh, sorry, Mr. Brady-Greene. Gabriel. I didn’t realize...”
She was about to duck back into the corridor, but the look in Gabriel’s eyes kept her rooted to the spot. She read amusement and something else.
He rose and crossed the room at a leisurely pace, self-assured, elegant, and sexy. Dressed in a pair of dark slacks and white shirt, both equally useless at obscuring his physical charms, he was the very image of a young lord.
She stared at him, but before she could arrange her features into something resembling a neutral expression, he took her into his arms and kissed her. It was a chaste kiss, a mere press of his warm lips to hers. Much like the way he’d kissed her in front of the Brady-Greene residence.
“See you in a moment, darling.” He held her loosely. “Mr. Brady-Greene and I are almost finished.”
Heat rushed into her face. “I’ll...eh...take Renoir to the park.” She withdrew from Gabriel’s embrace and patted her leg to entice the wolfhound to follow her.
Renoir’s ears pricked at the mention of his name. He lifted his head off his paws, got to his feet, then bounded over to her, tail wagging.
She stroked his gray fur. Glancing up, she quickly said, “Goodbye, Mr. Brady-Greene, and sorry once more for having interrupted the meeting.”
The banker had risen at her entry and was still standing. “A good day to you, Lady Renwood, and no need to worry, it is always lovely to see you.”
Delia and Renoir raced each other around the park for two laps by the time Gabriel fell in step beside them.
“I totally forgot our running date today, please forgive me. Brady-Greene ‘happened to pass by’ on his way to Manchester, and I had to entertain him with further tales about the future of the Renwood line.”
“No, I’m sorry for interrupting your meeting. It was an accident.”
Gabriel turned to her and smiled. “A useful one, if you ask me. He’s now utterly convinced we’re married.” He dropped his gaze to the dog. “Even Renoir played his part to perfection.”
~ * ~
S andra stood in the center of Delia’s living room, cup of tea in hand, contemplating the whitewashed wooden floorboards and the duck egg blue walls edged with white coving. “Your flat is so neat and tidy. How do you do it?”
Delia loved her interior design choices. Her place was bright and soft, her furnishings sparse. The walls were bare except for Gabriel’s painting of the DNA molecule. His present was the perfect piece of art to complete the space.
She drank from her cup. “There’s never any time to make a mess.”
“Funny, I always seem to manage.” Sandra sauntered toward the painting. “That picture is new. Where did you get it?”
“Ah, a friend gave it to me.” Delia took a quick breath.
So far, she hadn’t mentioned her plans involving Gabriel.
Fielding Tom’s concerned questions was bad enough, adding another person into the mix would be overwhelming.
“Time for tea and Danish pastry, I think.” She’d hunted all over Renwood for the pastry her friend craved.
Three years in the UK hadn’t dulled one bit of Sandra’s longing for her home country’s baked goods.
“Danishes.” Her eyes took on a wistfulness. “Real ones?”
“Absolutely. I know you miss them.” Delia shepherded her friend into the kitchen, took a paper-covered plate from the fridge and placed it in front of her. With a flourish, Delia uncovered four custard-filled pastries. “Ta-da.”
“Oh my God, Puddingteilchen. Where did you get them?” Sandra’s face glowed.
“There’s a new bakery by the river; they have all sorts of nice stuff.
” Delia made a fresh pot of tea, and together, they devoured the sweet, sticky, and perfectly delicious pastry.
She leaned one elbow on the table and studied her friend.
“I’ll miss you something fierce when you’re back home.
You’re my only true ally in John Winter’s lab.
“You’re way too afraid of our boss, you know that? He’d have to close his lab in the morning if you chose to leave. The way he bullies you into getting DNA samples from the hot aristocrat is simply awful.”
Delia dropped her gaze. “I’m not getting any more samples for John. You’re right, I should have stood up to him sooner.”
Sandra patted Delia’s arm. “I’m not blaming you. He abused his power.”
“Yeah, but I should’ve been a better friend to Gabriel right from the start and...”
“ Gabriel, is it now?” Sandra grinned at her. “What’s the story with you and the earl?”
Delia hesitated for a moment. Sandra was privy to her plans to have a baby via sperm donor, and she deserved to know about Gabriel’s involvement in Delia’s scheme. Sandra would probably be less inquisitive than Tom.
“Do you remember the time you told me to make babies with him?”
Sandra’s eyes widened, and her mouth formed the shape of a silent ‘O.’
“That’s what we’re doing. In actual fact, he volunteered to be my sperm donor,” Delia grasped Sandra’s hand. “Now that I have tenure and can plan my life a bit better, I’m ready to have a child.”
Warmth spread through her, and her chest expanded with joy. Things were finally happening.
After years of stasis, her life was moving in exactly the right direction. “I told Gabriel about it during one of our painting sessions...”
“Painting sessions?” Sandra squinted at her.
“Long story. Anyway, he offered to be the sperm donor and co-parent with me once the little one is born.” Delia nearly bounced in her seat with excitement.
Sandra blew air out of her puffed-up cheeks. “Goodness me, that’s quite the development.”
“Yes, I suppose it sounds like that.” Delia shrugged. “But I left out a couple of intervening steps.”
Sandra threw her head back and laughed. “Understatement of the century. How come I’m only hearing about this now?”
“I don’t make a habit of striking up friendships, and Gabriel—” Delia scratched the back of her neck.
“Tell me about it.” Sandra chuckled. “It took you—what? A year to open up to me?”
“That’s because we met in a professional setting. I was supposed to help you settle into the lab for your post-doc. Plus I like to keep work and private life separate.”
“Delia, you have no private life to speak of.” Sandra pursed her lips. “But back to Gabriel. How come he gets fast-tracked into your sacred inner circle?”
“I don’t know.” Delia stroked the wooden table, worrying a knothole with her index finger.
“It surprised me how quickly we became close. But...he was so vulnerable and open right from the start, I immediately trusted him. He has a kind heart, and I want him to be well. That’s why I agreed to sit for a painting, to take his mind off his recent loss. ”
“And the sperm donor thing?” Sandra quirked her head.
“He offered, out of the blue.” Delia focused on her friend. “I couldn’t believe my luck, I mean, you’ve seen his DNA...”
“Oh, those telomeres, how could I forget?” Sandra laughed. “But don’t you fancy him?”
Delia straightened in her seat. “I think it’s quite a normal biological reaction to fancy someone that handsome, especially if he’s also a good person.”
“Why don’t the two of you get together since he’s single and all?” Sandra put up a hand. “Just pointing out the obvious.”
Delia gave her a stern look. “Because it’s fine exactly the way it is. I’m not in the market for a serious relationship. He’s more traditional, I think. And I don’t want to hurt him or raise expectations I have no intention of fulfilling.”
“Ah. No matter, you still get to have a baby with his outstanding genes,” Sandra cooed.
“Exactly.” Delia drummed the edge of the table with her fork. “Besides, co-parenting as friends is ideal. No broken hearts, no power play, no need to punish or thwart the other parent. Just harmony and friendship.”
Sandra whistled through her teeth. “Sounds glorious, but I predict trouble when one of you meets someone else and decides to couple up.”
Delia shook her head. “We’ll be fine. We’ve got it all figured out.”