The Price of Gold | Fortune's Fool #1

23 | scent of peppermint

• [ s c e n t   o f   p e p p e r m i n t ] •

♥ louisa ♥

"I FORGOT HOW hard it was to go anywhere with you," I muttered, shaking my head as yet another woman batted her eyelashes promiscuously at Gabriel. I leaned against the metal barrier that was fixed across one side of the pavement. Over the other side was the River Thames, its murky colour tinting the bank a dark brown as it splashed side to side.

Gabriel tipped his head back as laughed in a carefree way, the caramel undertones of his skin glowing warmly and reflecting the light from the day that bounced against it.

"Seriously? Says you." He rose a rich earthy coloured eyebrow and gestured to the middle-aged man behind me that was excitedly gawking at my long legs. I sighed dramatically and shrugged my shoulders, as he flashed me a boyish grin that read you know I'm right.

I was feeling too guilty about lying to him to care about my slip up of I forgot how hard it was to go anywhere with you. He genuinely felt so grateful towards me for telling him what he thought was the truth.

But was there an anonymous texter?

Of course not.

I'd told him a load of rubbish.

It was Logan who had informed me of Gabriel's whereabouts. Majority of my conversation with Gabriel at Maitre Choux had been a load of crap and right now as I stood besides Gabe, an emotion I didn't want to feel was flooding through me, gushing and persistently demanding attention like the river beneath me.

Guilt.

God, why did I feel guilty for lying when I was doing it for her? I should feel happy. And proud. Overjoyed. And like a good person for not disappointing her for once.

But I didn't.

The look of sheer trust Gabriel had given me as his hands trembled despite his efforts to stop them and his voice shook regardless of his attempts to conceal it, was utterly crushing. When he touched my hand with nothing but thankfulness, I nearly lost it.

In that moment I felt like the worst person in the world. It was as if no matter what I did, I was always the bad guy.

"Sometimes I do wonder what you think about so much," he interrupted me, forcing me to push my gaze towards his dark cinnamon eyes that reminded me of those limited edition spiced hot chocolate drinks you could only get at Christmas. "Like you're always contemplating deeply about something. You know, with your eyebrows furrowed and staring into the distance."

I lightly smacked him on the shoulder as he attempted to imitate me. "I do not look like that." He rolled his eyes and tutted.

"My bad. Sorry I can't miraculously transform my shirt to a teeny tiny Jean-Paul Gaulthier gown." I laughed looking down at my nude coloured dress that happened to be designed by Gaulthier.

I wouldn't have been surprised if Gabriel was a British Vogue enthusiast. He still had his extremely good fashion sense.

Or are you just saying that because you know he's model quality?

"No, but in all seriousness, what do you think about so much? You'd be so much more fun if you got out of your head more." He remarked, pressing his coral lips together as I mentally traced his sharp almost cuttable jawline.

I quickly looked away when memories of what those very lips felt like against my own came back.

"Nothing interesting," I lied, pulling my mouth into a small smile. "To be honest, you'd find a lot more fascinating things if you looked in the mind of some empty-headed bimbo."