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“Who lives in Paris at least part-time. That city just keeps coming up.”
“Agreed.”
“I just wish—” She shook her head. “Never mind. What’s done is done.”
“Tell me.”
“When Ricci talked about the envelope and the cell phone messages, I had to remind myself that it all happened over a year ago, so I can’t try to track the sources. The trail is so cold, and that gets frustrating.”
“Yes, it does.” The fatigue in her boss’s voice reminded her that he hadn’t been allowed to go full out on chasing the kidnappers right after it had happened.
“Why did the king rein you in for so long?” Quinn asked.
“You saw the videos of Gabriel when I questioned him about the abduction.”
She had not yet met Gabriel when she’d viewed the videos, but they had made her cry. His mutilated ear had been wrapped in a white bandage that had wound around his head, a stark contrast with his dark hair and olive skin. The series of interviews had taken place in a comfortable, open room in the palace that had been filled with light, a deliberate contrast to the tent within a storage space where he’d been held captive.
Mikel’s questions had been gentle, but he had needed to collect every detail in order to commence the hunt for the kidnappers. Gabriel had begun every session with tight composure. He had answered Mikel’s queries with a brutal thoroughness, sparing himself none of the trauma of reliving the experience. However, there had always come a point where tears had begun to run down his cheeks, and he hadn’t been able to stop them. Mikel would halt instantly and wrap his arms around Gabriel while he had sobbed out the terror.
Even now, it socked her in the gut.
“The king watched those videos too. He couldn’t bear to subject Gabriel to any further questioning.” Mikel drummed his index finger on the seat cushion for a moment before he turned to her. “You know that Gabriel went through two surgeries to have his ear reconstructed. He didn’t touch his guitars for about six months. When he finally began to play again, that prick de la Cueva told him that he couldn’t hear right anymore.”
Mikel’s gaze went past her as he stared out the car window. “The king thought Gabriel might commit suicide, so he didn’t want any pressure put on him. Luis was also afraid that if I pursued the investigation, it might provoke the kidnappers to retaliate against Gabriel in some way. He was afraid even the media coverage of an arrest could push Gabriel over the edge. How could I argue with that?”
“Did you think Gabriel was suicidal?” Quinn had seen how deeply the loss of his music distressed him, but she’d never worried that he would injure himself. He was too aware of his obligations to those around him.
“He was a ghost of himself for those first months,” Mikel said. “He withdrew to his estate and spent a lot of time working in the lily fields nearby. He began to take a more active hand in managing his estate and his parents’ much bigger holdings, but it was busywork for him. I think there might have been a time when he lost all hope.”
“And that’s when people commit suicide. When they think life will never feel better.” Quinn wanted to go back in time so she could hold Gabriel and tell him he would be more than fine. “But he didn’t.”
“Luis does not understand that he sets an example that makes those around him stronger. He does what is right, not what is easy. Gabriel grew up watching his uncle make the hard choices.” Mikel shook his head. “I believed Gabriel could have survived an immediate investigation. Perhaps he even would have found a purpose in it. But one cannot go against the king.”
“What changed that Luis allowed you to hire me?” She had always wondered about the timing.
“Your professor sent your résumé to me. You have a unique skill set that I needed. I didn’t want to let you slip through my fingers.”
“I wasn’t that in demand.” After her release from prison, Quinn had despaired about finding a job in her field of expertise. Her criminal record had either eliminated or scared away most potential employers. Mikel’s offer to work in her field on an island paradise had seemed like a miracle. She’d jumped at it without hesitation.
“It took some convincing to persuade the king to overlook your background,” Mikel said in a dry tone. “I also promised him I would control Gabriel’s access to your discoveries.”
Guilt pinged at Quinn. “I guess I messed that up big-time.”
“No, you have done exactly what I had hoped…and more.”
When Quinn walked into her house late that night, Gabriel was sitting at her dining room table, crouched over his laptop. His dark hair caught blue highlights from the computer screen while his long, tensile fingers flew over the keyboard as though it were his guitar. She braced herself for the barrage of questions about her trip.
Instead, a smile of welcome lit his face as he stood and came toward her. “Quinn! Cariño mío!”
She watched the sexy flow of his long-legged stride in anticipation of the moment his arms would come around her and pull her against the hard, warm length of his body.
“I could get used to this,” she said, melting against him as she lifted her face to feel his lips slant over hers.
After a kiss that left her panting, he lifted his head and gave her a sexy smile. “You had better get used to it. I’m here to stay.” He slid his hands down to cup her butt. “Except for my trip to Granada to meet my new guitar instructor. Will you come with me?”
“If Mikel will give me the day off,” Quinn said.
“I was thinking four days off. I want to show you the Alhambra, one of the most beautiful places in Spain. There’s a restaurant on the side of the hill there with a terrace that looks out over the city. I want to watch the moonlight play in your hair while I feed you Jamón de Trevélez from my fingers.” His voice had dropped low and thrummed with seduction.
