Maya checked her watch. Paulette would be at home and wouldn’t mind if she showed up unannounced. She’d break open a bottle of wine and commiserate with her. For a moment, Maya wondered how much to tell her, but then she decided that honesty was the best way to go. If she wanted to keep Paulette as her friend—and she desperately needed a friend on whose shoulder to cry—she had to tell her the truth. Slowly, and very gently.
Twenty
Gabriel almost collided with Yvette when he ran into the foyer. If he hadn’t been struggling to pull his pants up and gotten the witch’s hair caught in his zipper, he could have caught Maya before she’d managed to flee the house.
“Have you seen Maya?” he asked gruffly.
Yvette raised an eyebrow. “She left in Samson’s Audi.” Then she walked calmly past him as if it didn’t matter.
Anger churned in him. He spun around and grabbed Yvette by the shoulders. “And you didn’t stop her?”
She shook off his hold and snarled at him. “I don’t make it a habit of jumping in front of cars driven by pissed-off females.”
He narrowed his eyes. He wouldn’t take any disrespect from his subordinates. “It’s your job to protect her.”
“I was OFF DUTY! Why didn’t you protect her? She must have had a reason to run out of here, so maybe you should look at yourself before you blame somebody else.” Yvette planted her fists at her hips and glared at him.
“You don’t like her.” It was all too clear to him.
“And why should I?” She let out a huff. “She gets attacked and turned, and everybody goes gaga over her, as if she’s someone special. And where does that leave me?”
Gabriel took a step back as the realization sunk in once more. Yvette had had designs on him. “By ‘everybody,’ you mean me, don’t you?”
“Forget it!” she spat and turned.
***
A viselike grip on her arm held her back. Yvette swallowed back the tears—she wouldn’t give Gabriel the satisfaction of admitting that he’d hurt her. All these years they’d worked together and she’d thought they’d gotten closer. Their relationship had evolved from a purely professional one to more of a friendship. She’d hoped that eventually Gabriel would let his guard down and come to her for more than just work and friendship. She’d given him enough signals to show her willingness to take things further.
She’d given him time to get used to the idea, and then Maya had shown up. And within days, Gabriel had turned into a horny, lusting man just like all the others. Only, he wasn’t lusting after her, he was lusting after Maya. What did Maya have that she didn’t?
“Take your hand off my arm or I’ll break it,” she warned him.
He must have heard the seriousness in her voice, because a moment later he let go. “I think a talk between you and me is long overdue.”
She turned to look at him. “There’s nothing to be said.” If he thought he could get her to confess her feelings, he’d be waiting till the Devil strapped on ice skates and skated in frozen over hell.
Was there pity in Gabriel’s gaze? No, she didn’t want pity.
“Yvette, I’ve never given you any reason to believe that I had any interest in you other than as a valued colleague and friend. I have no other feelings for you. If I ever gave you the impression that I did, I apologize.”
He apologized to her? That was rich! “You men are all the same. Nothing will ever change that, will it? A new woman shows up, and suddenly you start panting. Damn it, you don’t even know her!” She knew she was out of line talking to him like that, but at this point she didn’t care anymore. Let him fire her. Maybe it would be best for all of them.
“No, I don’t know her. But I love her.”
His words were like a stab to her chest with a sharp knife. She met his gaze, and there in his eyes she saw it. It was true. He loved her. No pretense, no bravado, just pure and simple honesty. Something in her shut down. If she’d had any hope left that one day there could be something between them, that his infatuation with Maya would fade, the sparkle in his eyes told her it would never happen. He’d found what he was looking for.
“She’s your mate?” Her voice cracked.
“If she’ll have me. Unfortunately she’s misinterpreted something and hates me right now.”
Yvette recalled the look she’d caught from Maya. “I don’t think hate is the right word. A woman who hates doesn’t cry, not like Maya did.” Tears had streamed down her face, pain so clearly etched into her features. “She wants you still.”