“Hello, Dad. Is something wrong?” She turned her back to Deacon.
He ran the back of his hand over his lips. Instead of getting Gabrielle out of his system, he only wanted her more. He was in so much trouble.
Gabrielle turned back to him. She didn’t have to tell him how much she loved her father. It was there in her voice when she spoke of him. It was in her eyes. It was in her actions by coming here and working for Deacon. She was a devoted daughter. Deacon just hoped her father deserved such devotion.
When she ended the call, Deacon asked, “Is everything all right with your father?”
She nodded her head. “He’s fine.”
Deacon noticed how her gaze failed to meet his. “But he’s not happy about you being here.”
“No. He isn’t.” She sighed. “My father used to be such an easygoing guy. But the accident, well, it changed everything—for both of us.”
Right then the wall went back up between them. Deacon could feel the warmth slip away. The chill was as distinct and real as the kiss they’d shared—the kiss that would not be followed by another. He would be left with nothing more than the memory.
“I know how death can change people.” His mother changed after his father’s death. Even though the man didn’t deserve her undying love, she’d given it to him anyway. When his father passed away, his mother was cloaked in sadness. She moved on with her life, but it was never the same. She was never the same again.
Gabrielle’s gaze briefly met his. “About what happened between us—”
“It was nothing.” He was a liar. A bold-faced liar. “We lost our heads for a moment. It won’t happen again.” At least that part was the truth.
Gabrielle glanced away. “You’re right. It was a mistake.”
Her sharp words stabbed at him. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. It was best that they parted ways until he got his emotions under control.
He wasn’t mad at her. He was angry with himself for losing control—for complicating an already messy situation.
“I should go.” She just turned and walked away.
This situation was such a mess. An awful mess. How in such a short time had Gabrielle taken his dark hopeless life and filled it with light? He didn’t know how he’d go back to the dark again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE SUN WAS sinking into the sky when Gaby called it quits for the day. Deacon had made himself scarce the rest of the day and perhaps that was for the best—for both of them.
Things were confusing enough. That kiss only intensified the conflicting emotions within her. She had no business flirting with him—coaxing him into kissing her. She should keep a respectable distance from this man. He was trouble.
Wait. Was that the answer? Could she be drawn to Deacon because he was so different from the other professional men she’d dated? Did Deacon’s dark side act like a magnet?
Whatever it was, she had to get a grip on it. Because her reason for being here had absolutely nothing to do with becoming romantically involved with Deacon Santoro. And she’d do well to remember the circumstances that had led her here.
Gaby sighed as she let herself inside the guesthouse. There was still enough light filtering in from outside that she didn’t turn on the lights. Instead she kicked off her heels and moved to the couch.
Her cell phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number. She was about to ignore it when she thought of her father. Something might have happened to him.
Needing to be certain her father was all right, she answered the call. “Hello.”
“Gabrielle Dupré?” The male voice was unfamiliar to her.
Concern pumped through her veins. “Yes.”
“My name’s Paul. I’m with Gotcha magazine. Do you have a comment on the photo?”
“Photo?” She had no idea what this man was talking about. Thinking it was probably a scam, her finger hovered over the end button.
“The one of you in Deacon Santoro’s arms. Would you like to comment on why you’re in the arms of the man that allegedly killed your aunt?”
“There is no photo.”