“You know what I mean because when you’re stuck for something to say, you always change subjects so fast it gives the other person whiplash.”
“You’re very fast with the whiplash when you want,” she said, rising up to pedal harder. “Besides, I’d never change the subject to avoid losing.”
“No? Isn’t that why you change your hair colour without warning?”
And just like that he’d won. Not just this this point but the entire thing. Game, set, and match.
Had he really got under her mask and discovered something not even she knew about herself? Was that what she did, change her appearance to create the illusion of being ahead of the game?
By the time they reached the end of the cedars and emerged onto the exposed road, the rain had faded to a drizzle.
“Don’t concede the point already.” He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Surely you can think of an answer.”
No, she couldn’t.
“Talk to me, Rapunzel. What are you thinking?”
“I think we’ve escaped the worst of the rain only to get splashed with mud. We both need a change of clothes.”
“Have I offended you?” he asked, and his smile began to fade.
“No, but…” She fixed him with a steady look. “You’re not looking through your camera now, are you?”
“No...” he answered slowly, waiting for her to explain.
“Perhaps this insight should be saved for when you’re behind the lens.”
A moment passed. “Okay.” He nodded, no sign of his easy smile anywhere.
Somehow things had become very serious. She seemed to have dampened the mood more than the rain ever could. Which was a shame because he hadn’t said anything wrong. It was only her own mixed emotions making her a little sensitive. And if she wasn’t careful, he was going to notice, which would make things awkward.
Because the conversation had strayed into personal territory, she couldn’t swerve out of it too abruptly; that too would be obvious.
Surely, she could handle this. Just make it a joke.
“I’ll tell you what,” she said in a light, teasing voice. “You being a great talented photographer of fairy tales. If you can take a serious picture of me, not Rapunzel, not Sleeping Beauty, not the…” She let go of the handle to touch her painted skirt. “Then I will answer your question about the colour thing.”
“Aren’t you a good negotiator?” His smile returned, and she felt like she’d won a thousand pounds.
They had reached the Du Montfort grounds and were now going over soggy grass.
“Okay, Rapunzel. Challenge accepted. Maybe tonight when you’re looking at the new moon in the sky, I’ll be able to glimpse the real you.”
Her hands wobbled, making her wheel hit a puddle and throw up a sheet of water that hit them both.
Laughing, he veered away and hit the cedar tree by the front door to the house. The impact shook the tree and all the water held in the fronds rained down drenching them.
Her clothes stuck to her like a second skin, and she could see water dripping from the tip of Gabriel’s nose and streaming down his throat inside his collar.
“Isn’t it lucky we went through the forest to avoid the rain?” he cracked.
They were both laughing as they burst through the front doors.
“Where the hell have you been all day?” Nicole’s icy voice cut through their laughter.
Twelve
“We got caught in the rain,” Gabriel said, kicking off his muddy boots by the doormat.
