Introduction To Romance (10 Books). Кэрол Мортимер

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!’

      She turned sharply at the sound of Gabriel’s voice, trying to focus through the black spots wavering in front of her eyes. ‘Why?’ she had time to gasp before those black spots all merged into one huge black hole into which Bryn thankfully fell.

      She wasn’t aware of being swept up into Gabriel’s arms, of the sympathetic gasps of the other guests as he carried her across the room, or her mother’s concern as she followed the two of them out of the gallery and up to Gabriel’s office, leaving her stepfather and Rafe to deal with providing an explanation for her having fainted.

      No, Bryn was aware of none of that as she slowly returned to consciousness and heard her mother and Gabriel talking softly together.

      * * *

      ‘—should have warned her,’ Gabriel muttered disgustedly, holding Bryn’s hand tightly in his as he sat beside her limp form on the sofa in his office.

      ‘You wanted it to be a surprise,’ Mary soothed.

      ‘And this is the result!’ he cursed grimly as he looked down at Bryn, her lashes very dark against the pale delicacy of her face.

      ‘It’s just a faint, Gabriel,’ Bryn’s mother assured ruefully. ‘If I know my little girl, she’s been too excited about tonight to bother eating today.’

      Gabriel stood up abruptly, running an agitated hand through the dark thickness of his hair. ‘I just wanted her to have the two of you here tonight to share in her success.’

      ‘I know that, Gabriel,’ Mary assured gently. ‘And so will Bryn once she’s thought things through.’

      ‘You think?’ Gabriel knew Bryn well enough by now—knew what she thought of him only too well—to know that she was more than capable of believing he had some Machiavellian reason for inviting her mother and stepfather to the exhibition.

      Because he hadn’t thought his actions through properly, should have realised the shock it would be for Bryn when Mary and Rhys arrived at the gallery this evening.

      ‘I think,’ Mary echoed, having now taken Gabriel’s place on the sofa beside Bryn. ‘I accept my daughter can be fiery on occasion, Gabriel—part of her Welsh heritage, I’m afraid,’ she added ruefully. ‘But she isn’t so headstrong that she will judge you unfairly. And what you’ve done for her, in regard to her inclusion in this exhibition at Archangel, and inviting Rhys and I here this evening to share in her success, was incredibly kind of you.’

      ‘Bryn doesn’t see me as being in the least kind,’ Gabriel drawled ruefully.

      ‘Oh, I think you might be pleasantly surprised at what my daughter sees in you,’ Mary murmured dryly.

      Bryn knew that last remark was directed towards her rather than Gabriel, that her mother, at least, was aware Bryn had recovered from her faint but was now choosing to appear as if she hadn’t.

      Mary squeezed her hand to confirm it. ‘When she wakes up you need to tell Bryn everything, Gabriel,’ she told him—and Bryn—softly. ‘She especially needs to know what you did for us five years ago, what you did to help the two of us make a new life together in Wales after William died.’

      Bryn frowned at this revelation, at the same time knowing her mother’s comment ‘when she wakes up’ was pointedly directed at her.

      And she did need to do that; lying here listening to this conversation was totally unfair to Gabriel. Besides, she very much wanted to hear all about what Gabriel had done for them five years ago.

      Mary released Bryn’s hand before standing up. ‘You’re a good man, Gabriel,’ she told him. ‘And if you give my daughter a chance, I believe you will find she already knows that. Now, I think it’s time I returned back downstairs, and left the two of you alone to talk.’

      ‘But—’

      ‘My mother is right, Gabriel,’ Bryn spoke at the same time as she opened her eyes and looked up at them both. ‘You and I do need to talk.’ She swung her legs to the floor and sat up slowly.

      ‘I’m not sure you should do that just yet.’ Gabriel stepped swiftly forward and sat down on the sofa beside her before once again taking one of her hands in both of his. ‘You’re probably a bit shaky still from—’

      ‘Mamma?’ Bryn looked up at her mother pointedly.

      Mary nodded. ‘I’m going downstairs now to bask in some of my daughter’s glory,’ she murmured indulgently. ‘No doubt I will see the two of you sometime later this evening?’

      ‘No doubt,’ Bryn nodded distractedly, having eyes only for Gabriel.

      ‘And, Bryn?’ Her mother paused in the doorway. ‘You’re wrong. Gabriel isn’t in the least “unsuitable”. In any way,’ she assured before she left the office and closed the door softly behind her.

      CHAPTER TWELVE

      ‘WHAT WAS THAT about?’ Gabriel prompted.

      Bryn’s vision was slightly misty with tears as she turned to look at him, knowing that her mother had been referring to the conversation the two of them had had in Wales three weeks ago, when Bryn had insisted the man she loved wasn’t suitable.

      She gave a shake of her head. ‘It doesn’t matter anymore. I— Gabriel, I need to thank you for inviting my mother and Rhys here tonight. It’s made my evening so much more special.’

      ‘So much so you fainted, damn it,’ Gabriel grated self-disgustedly.

      Bryn held on to his hand as he would have pulled away and stood up. ‘I want you to stay right here,’ she told him firmly as he looked at her questioningly. ‘I need to say some things to you, and I want you to be next to me when I say them.’

      A frown appeared between his eyes. ‘Am I going to need some of my single-malt whisky to get through this?’ he drawled.

      ‘I don’t believe so, no.’ She smiled ruefully, drawing in a deep breath before speaking again. ‘I’ll admit, when I first realised my mother and Rhys were really here—rather than just a figment of my food-deprived, champagne-induced imagination—that I wondered why you had done it. I only wondered for the