like to stay for dinner? We can go over my schedule. It can be a bit daunting if you’re not used to it.”
Surprised, Gabriel shrugged. He had to eat. Might as well get to know her over good food. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d appreciate that. I like to be prepared so, yes, a schedule would be great.”
“I’ll go and tell my assistant to ready our meal, then.”
Gabriel wondered if he wanted to eat anything cooked by Deidre. The little woman was so somber and skittish, she gave him the creeps. And it took a lot to scare Gabriel Murdock.
Maybe he should be more wary of the princess he was about to get to know on a personal level. After all, beauty and grace could hide a multitude of sins.
* * *
The man was sinfully handsome.
Lara took another bite of the catfish smothered in crawfish étouffée, her stomach almost recoiling at the rich New Orleans food. Her nerves weren’t the best these days. Since Theo’s death, she’d been an emotional wreck and her doctors had given her more sedatives and antidepressant pills than she cared to remember. But the pills didn’t help the never-ending ache in her heart. She pretended to take them, but most of the prescribed medication went down the drain. She had to have a clear head for the task ahead.
Tonight, she thought this distress might have more to do with the man sitting beside her at the antique Queen Anne table than the spicy food or a lack of pills. But those annoying hang-up calls hadn’t helped her nerves, either.
Gabriel Murdock ate the food with gusto, his manners impeccable even while he enjoyed each bite. He was buff and in shape, so he could afford the spicy sauce and crusty catfish. His hair was dark and curly, with just a hint of gray near the temples. His eyes were an interesting shade of brown—almost golden at times. She’d heard many tales regarding the renowned photojournalist, some of them good and some of them bad. “Infamous” was how Deidre had described him. He traveled light and often, never stayed in one place for long and was rumored to be one of the best at getting a story with just one shot of his camera. But he had also been involved in exposing corruption and righting wrongs by being nosy. Malcolm had thoroughly researched the man, but had given his okay to this assignment.
“He’ll be aware and on high alert,” Malcolm had told her. Apparently these were impressive qualities in a good photojournalist. “He tends to dig deep to get his stories.”
Deidre, on the other hand, warned Lara almost immediately.
“You’d best watch out for that one, ma’am,” her overprotective assistant had cautioned. “Especially since you refused to bring a full detail with us.”
“I’ll be perfectly fine,” Lara had replied. “I don’t want guards hovering around me day and night. Our smaller team is sufficient. I need some freedom for a change.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
But Lara knew that the guards were out there somewhere, watching in spite of her need to break free. She wasn’t so complacent as to think they had let her get away with her request so easily. She would always be a member of the royal family, even if her husband was no longer alive. She owned a mansion full of priceless artifacts and antiques, too. And that meant protection, since even now she had death threats and stalkers and all sorts of other worries to consider. Now was not the best time to have a photographer trailing her, but it couldn’t be helped. She needed publicity for her cause. She’d have to be very careful about what she revealed to him, however.
But this one—Gabriel—seemed capable of handling anything they might encounter together. The man had been embedded with American troops in the Middle East, had trailed drug lords and terrorists undercover through the jungle to get the real story. He seemed to be content and confident in his own skin, even if his eyes did hold a rim of sadness. Lara felt a strange sense of peace, the first real peace she’d felt since Theo’s death.
“This is really good,” Gabriel said now. “My compliments to the chef.”
“We have a good friend who is an accomplished chef,” Lara replied, happy that he approved of the cuisine. “Even though Deidre is an excellent cook, Herbert insists on cooking for me when I’m in town. He so enjoyed teaching Theo all about Creole and Cajun cooking and the difference between the two.”
“Spoken like a true Louisiana soul,” Gabriel replied. “Did your husband enjoy eating the local dishes?”
“Oh, yes. He was willing to try anything. Even alligator meat and frog legs—I’ve never managed to acquire a taste for either.”
The room went quiet as she remembered the good times she’d had with Theo. Finally, she glanced over at Gabriel and realized he’d put down his fork. “I’m so sorry. It’s just...I miss him.”
“I understand.” He pushed his plate away. “From everything I’ve seen and heard, he was a good man.”
“The best.” She blinked away her grief with a quick flutter of her lashes and a flash of regret in her expression. “Now, let’s move on, shall we? We have a lot to discuss. I’ll show you some of the other art pieces—some I own and others on loan for the reception we’ll hold here before the official show in the Quarter. As you know, I intend to be in New Orleans for at least three months. How long do you plan to...shadow me?”
He gave her a direct look. “I have the whole month.”
One month, weeks and weeks, with this nice-looking man. Lara had to wonder if they’d get along, or if they’d wind up getting on each other’s nerves.
“Don’t look so glum,” he said, as if reading her mind. “I don’t bite. I know my job and I know my place.”
She shook her head. “But I want you to feel comfortable. I want you to get the story right. You know, a lot of people think I’m just interfering, trying to get publicity or pity, anything you can think of. They can’t seem to grasp that I lived here for many years and I want to give back to the place I love.”
“I don’t care what other people think,” he replied. “I’m here to follow you and to capture that essence that makes the world so fascinated with you.”
“I’m not so sure I have an essence,” she retorted, embarrassed by the way he looked at her. “I do care or I wouldn’t be here.”
“I believe you.”
“Then let’s get started. I’ll have Deidre bring dessert and we’ll eat while we compare.”
For the next couple of hours they nibbled on their mini-fruit tarts and drank more coffee while they went over the details of the next week.
Finally, Lara glanced up and noticed the time. “It’s close to eleven. You must be exhausted.”
“No, I’m good.”
He gave her that look again, the one that made her blush. Was he one of those night owls who needed little sleep?
“But I imagine you’re tired.”
“I am rather fatigued,” she said, patting at her hair. She longed for a bubble bath and a good night’s sleep.
They both stood up and Lara was about to escort him to the door when Deidre walked in with a package. “Ma’am, I found this at the back door.”
“The back door? That’s odd. No one alerted us.” Lara took the square box and began to open it, thinking it might be the stationery she’d ordered from her favorite local paperie. “Do you mind if I check on this?” she asked Gabriel. “This might be the addressed invitations for the gala and silent auction we’re having at an old mansion in the Quarter. We had a typo in the first batch, so they were going to do a rush order to get them here in time.”
“Of course not.” He sat back and studied his notes.
Deidre watched as Lara tugged at the box. “I’ll put it away after you’re finished,