Noah was quick to laugh. “We get that a lot.”
Gabi made sure there was plenty of space between them. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
That charming smile didn’t fall, but something shifted in his eyes. “Nothing good, I’m sure. My brother has an interesting grasp on reality.”
There was no proper reply, so Gabi kept silent.
He stuck his hand out in front of him. “Noah Blackwell.”
Nice controlling move . . .
Gabi looked at his hand but made no movement to close the distance to shake it.
“You’ll have to excuse me, Mr. Blackwell. In the space of one minute you’ve insulted my husband, and in turn, me. What are you doing here?”
He slowly lowered his arm, his smile becoming much more sinister. “What did he tell you?”
This was not a game she wanted to play. She glanced out into the circular drive of the hospital, fully expecting to witness someone with a camera nearby. If they were out there, they hid well.
“I’m not the evil twin, Gabriella.”
Her head snapped to his. “I don’t believe I’ve given you leave to use my first name.”
“I see he’s already poisoned you. He does have a way of manipulating everyone around him to get what he wants.”
“Why are you still standing here? Whatever goal you’ve set out to accomplish is not going to happen.”
Noah Blackwell sat back on his heels and smiled again. “I have a feeling our paths will cross again. It’s been a pleasure, Mrs. Blackwell.”
She didn’t look at him as he passed by her and into the hospital.
Two minutes later, Hunter pulled his car into the drop-off.
Casual slacks . . . but not jeans . . . and his button-up shirt and dinner jacket brought relief. He stepped out of the car to greet her and she stepped into his embrace and sighed.
“It’s good to see you,” she said.
“Well, if I thought dinner was going to start like this, I would have come earlier.”
She started to shake.
“Gabi?” Hunter pulled out of her hug and studied her. “What’s wrong?”
She looked behind her. “I-I just met your brother.”
Hunter’s hand squeezed her shoulders, his face turned to stone. “You what?”
“Here . . . he stepped into the hospital less than three minutes ago.”
His gaze moved beyond her, then back. “Did he hurt you?”
“No . . . just said a few things. I thought he was you at first.”
“Wait here.” Hunter ran toward the door.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” she yelled after him.
If Hunter heard her, he didn’t indicate it.
Gabi stood beside the open door of Hunter’s Maserati, the engine still humming as it idled in the drive.
Hunter disappeared behind the sliding doors of the hospital, leaving her staring after him. She held on to the top of the car with the passenger door opened and tried her best attempt at appearing patient.
With all the fidgeting she was trying to control, Gabi was fairly certain any cameras pointing on the outside of the hospital painted her as a woman standing by the getaway car.
Hunter emerged from the doors several minutes later. Gabi did a mental check . . . he was wearing slacks, not jeans.
She sighed.
“Did you see him?”
He shook his head. “He doesn’t stick around for long.”
There was a car behind them, pinned because of a small bus that had sandwiched them in. The driver tapped his horn. Hunter held the passenger door while Gabi slipped inside.
“Are you OK?”
“Shaking . . . which is stupid, he didn’t do anything. I think it was the shock of realizing a half a second too late that he wasn’t you. I almost kissed him.”
Hunter gripped the steering wheel with both hands. “But you didn’t.”
Gabi wrapped her arms around her stomach. “No.” She really wasn’t feeling well. The car hit a buckle in the road and her head started to spin.
“What did he say?” They stopped at the red light and Hunter glanced her way.
“That he wasn’t the evil twin. I told him he was wasting his time talking to me.”
“But he knew who you were.”
“Yes. Said he recognized me from the paper . . . or something like that.” The light turned green and Hunter kept driving. “What game do you think he’s playing?”
“The same one he’s been playing since our teens. Undermine, discredit, and deceive.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier if the man followed in your footsteps and earned his own living?” Gabi asked.
Hunter actually laughed. “Not when someone else can do all the hard stuff and he can sweep in and take.” Thirty minutes later, they were sitting in a quiet booth in a tiny, informal steakhouse.
“You look like you could use a drink,” Hunter told her.
“I don’t think—”
The waiter stepped up and Hunter ordered them wine.
He waited until after their wine arrived before asking for every detail of her encounter with Noah.