been right here, in Dina’s Queen Anne home, sitting at her generously sized bleached oak kitchen table. Since then, they’d filled the emptiness of the huge house by converting several of the rooms into an office suite, one that had so far escaped Gabe’s notice. The division of labor worked to each of their strengths. Catherine manned the front lines, while Dina ran the business end of things. Right now the older woman wore her shrewdest and most businesslike expression.
“You’re being evasive, Catherine. That’s not like you. Tell me what went wrong. Oh, wait. I’ll bet I can guess.” A broad smile flashed, one identical to Gabe’s. When they’d first started working together that smile had caused Catherine untold pain. Even now it stirred a twinge that wouldn’t be denied. “Gabriel put those patented Piretti moves on you, didn’t he?”
Catherine deliberately turned her back on her partner. “One or two,” she admitted. Dumping fresh coffee beans into the grinder, she switched it on, relieved that the noise of the machine made conversation impossible.
The instant the machine shut off, Dina jumped in. “It was just the same with his father. I never could resist him.” A hint of sorrow appeared in her eyes and cut faint grooves beside her mouth. Not that it detracted from her startling beauty, a beauty she’d managed to pass on to her son, if in a slightly more masculine form. “Funny how much I can still miss him after all this time.”
Catherine abandoned the coffee and wrapped her arms around Dina. “From everything you and Gabe have told me, he was an incredible man. I only wish I could have met him.”
“He’d have adored you.” Dina pulled back and forced a smile. “You’ve evaded answering me long enough. What happened? Why did Gabriel refuse to help?”
“He didn’t refuse,” Catherine told her. “He just put a price on his help that I’m unwilling to pay.”
“Ah.” Understanding dawned. “He wanted to get back together with you, didn’t he?”
“How did you…?” Catherine’s eyes narrowed. “Did you speak to him before I went over there?”
“I haven’t spoken to Gabriel about you in months. I haven’t spoken to him at all in the past three days,” Dina insisted. She crossed to the coffee machine and made short work of starting the brewing process before turning to face Catherine. “I am, however, a woman, and I know my son. He’s still in love with you.”
No, not love, Catherine almost said. Lust, maybe. But he’d never truly been in love with her. Not that she could explain any of that to Dina. “He said that he’d only help if I moved back in with him.”
“Naturally, you refused.”
“Naturally.”
“Because you don’t have feelings for him anymore, either.”
Catherine didn’t dare answer that one. Instead, she regarded Dina with troubled eyes. “I know you’ve always hoped that we’d work out our differences, but that’s not going to happen. You understand that, don’t you?”
It was Dina’s turn to look troubled. “I’ve never wanted to push for answers you weren’t ready to give. I gather something went horribly wrong between you. You were so ill during those early weeks after the two of you broke up that I didn’t have the heart to ask. But I always thought that you and Gabriel would work it out. You were so right together. So in love.” She swept that aside with a wave of her hand. “Never mind. You were absolutely right to refuse him. It was quite rude of Gabriel to put conditions on his help.”
Catherine smiled in relief. “You’re not upset?”
“I’m disappointed.” She poured them both a cup of freshly brewed coffee, putting an end to the subject. “Why don’t we forget about all that for now and get down to business? I suggest we double—and triple-check that everything’s in place for tonight’s affair. We can’t afford any errors.”
No question about that. Between their financial woes and the contracts they’d lost, there was added urgency on getting every event perfect. The next several hours flew by. Much to Catherine’s relief, the intensity of the work didn’t allow for thoughts of Gabe to intrude. Every ounce of concentration and effort went into putting the finishing touches on the Marconi event. More than ever she needed tonight to be a stunning success, for Natalie Marconi to rave about Elegant Events to all of her closest friends—and more importantly, her husband’s business contacts.
By nine that night the party was in full swing, and Catherine worked behind the scenes, keeping everything running with smooth efficiency, while remaining as unobtrusive as possible. Having a half dozen walkie-talkies that kept all the various stations in touch with each other certainly helped with speed and communication, not to mention coordinating the progress of the party. But she always faced last-minute glitches, and tonight proved no exception.
This time around the band showed up late and the caterers underestimated the amount of champagne necessary to fill the flutes of the several hundred people who’d come to toast the Marconi patriarch. Both problems were corrected before anyone noticed, but it took some fast maneuvering, a flurry of phone calls and an exhausting combination of threats and pleas.
Catherine paused by the doorway leading outside to the staging area and, for what seemed like the fiftieth time that night, examined the checklist she’d posted there. Every aspect of the evening was listed and carefully initialed by the responsible party once it had been dealt with. She’d found the list a lifesaver on more than one occasion since it kept everyone up to date on the progress of the event, and ensured accountability. Only a few boxes remained blank. The birthday cake. A few catering chores. And, of course, the post-party cleanup.
Satisfied, she had started toward the kitchen to speak with the caterers about the cake when she felt a telltale prickle along her spine. She turned, not the least surprised to discover Gabe lounging in the doorway behind her.
For a split second, all she could do was stand and stare. That’s how it had been the first time she’d seen him, too. One look stole every last ounce of sense and sensibility. He stood a full six feet two inches, with mile-wide shoulders, topping a powerful, toned body. He’d encased all that potent masculinity in formal wear, which turned his body into a lethal weapon that no woman had a chance of resisting. But it was far worse than that. Gabe Piretti also possessed the striking features of an angel coupled with the burning cobalt-blue eyes of a devil. And right now he had those predatory eyes fixed on her.
It wasn’t just the raw, physical impact of the man, Catherine was forced to admit. Perhaps for some women that would be sufficient. Maybe his looks, along with the embarrassing number of digits that graced his bank account, would satisfy. But she’d always wanted something else in the man she chose as her own. She wanted a heart and a mind that worked in sync with hers. For a brief time, she’d found that with Gabe. At least, she had until he made it clear that money was his god, and what she had to offer was only icing to fill in the cracks of his multilayered cake.
Maybe he hadn’t caught her helpless reaction to his appearance, though why she even bothered to indulge in such pointless speculation, she didn’t know. One glimpse of the amusement gleaming in his eyes put paid to that forlorn hope. How could she have forgotten? Gabe could read people at a single glance. It was part of what made him such a good deal-broker. No one pulled anything over on him.
Except Roxanne.
“Should I even bother to ask what you’re doing here?” she asked.
A half smile eased across his mouth. “I was invited.”
“Of course.” She didn’t doubt that for a minute. “You neglected to mention it when I saw you this morning.”
He lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug. “Must have slipped my mind.” His attention switched to her mouth. “I believe I was preoccupied with more important matters at the time.”
“Speaking of more important matters, I have to work right now. So if you’ll excuse me…” She started to press past him, but he shifted just