He swallowed hard, then, to make the illusion complete, pressed a kiss to her lips.
Her soft, warm lips.
Just to make it look good, he held the kiss, lingered over her mouth, breathed in the sweet feminine scent that was Abby. He felt her lips tremble under his…
Callan jumped at the new and unexpected burst of song as Emerald and Ruby began to sing “Some Enchanted Evening.” His heart pounding, he stared at the women, then looked at Abby. Her eyes were wide, her expression apologetic as she stared back at him.
Cheers and applause persuaded Abby’s aunts to continue, which they enthusiastically did.
Bemused, Callan waited for his pulse to settle. It wasn’t the kiss that had rattled him, he told himself. Hell, that little peck he’d given Abby could hardly be considered a kiss. It was simply her aunts’ bizarre behavior, that’s all.
Nevertheless, as Callan sat back and waited for Emerald and Ruby to finish their song, he wondered what the hell he’d gotten himself into.
Four
Abby stared at the pile of mail flowing over her desk, the blueprints strung from one doorway to the other and the mountains of files scattered on the small sofa and coffee table that made up the waiting room area. She’d only been gone from her desk since yesterday afternoon and already the office was almost as big a mess as her life.
Almost, but not quite.
With a sigh she closed the office door behind her and made her way to her desk, stepping around several boxes lying in the middle of the floor. Callan’s office door was ajar, and she could hear him talking on the phone.
“No, Ray, Abigail hasn’t left. Francine was just filling in for the day.” Pause. “Damn right. I agree completely. No one could take Abigail’s place here.”
Abby hesitated, feeling a little guilty over eaves-dropping, but too curious not to listen. The Ray who Callan was talking to had to be Ray Palmer, a developer from Boston who was building a new shopping center and movie theater in Bloomfield. He was a demanding, oftentimes difficult man, and though Abby had never met the man in person, she’d enjoyed working with him in spite of his gruff manner. Maybe it had been the flowers he’d sent her one day after losing his temper on the phone over a permit problem, or maybe it was simply the way he always asked her how she was, as if he really cared. He was a lonely widower with a grown “single” son whom he’d mentioned several times to her with the obvious intention of match-making.
“Don’t worry, Ray,” Callan went on. “Abigail’s not going anywhere. She’s much too valuable to Sinclair Construction to ever let go.”
Abby had to swallow the lump in her throat. Knowing that she was “valuable to Sinclair Construction” should make her feel proud and happy. So why did she feel as though she wanted to cry?
She was just a little overwhelmed at the moment, that was all. Why wouldn’t she feel a little emotional? In the past twenty-four hours, she’d quit her job, flashed her breasts at her boss, and gotten “engaged.” The same old things that every woman went through on a daily basis.
She had to leave. She’d thought she could face him, talk to him, but she couldn’t. Not now, at least. Not with the feel of that kiss he’d so gently, and so casually, planted on her during lunch. Her mouth still tingled from the touch of his lips on hers, For that matter, her entire body tingled. How could she have a conversation with him with that image so strong in her mind?
And when he’d slipped that ring on her finger, she’d felt as if an electrical current had shimmered up her arm. She lifted her hand and stared at the ring now, felt that same jolt of electricity rush through her blood.
“Abby?”
She jumped at the sound of his voice. Breath held, she looked over her shoulder and saw him watching her from his doorway. She hadn’t even realized that he’d hung up the phone.
Darn, darn, darn. She turned slowly and faced him. “Oh, hello.”
He glanced behind her. “I thought you were taking your aunts sight-seeing.”
“I told them I had something important to do at the office.” Not wanting to look directly at him, she focused on her computer screen, felt her pulse jump at the “Fatal Error” message on the monitor. Oh, dear. “They dropped me off here, then took my car and headed for the theater district in Philadelphia.”
He had an amused look in his eyes as he folded his arms and leaned against the doorjamb of his office. “Is there anyone we need to warn?”
“The entire city, most likely.” Needing to keep busy, she picked up a manila folder sitting on the sofa, straightened the papers inside, then moved to the file cabinet beside her desk. “But if they keep to the route I mapped out for them, they shouldn’t get into too much trouble.”
Callan chuckled. “Something tells me your aunts aren’t the kind of people who pay a lot of attention to maps.”
“I suppose they aren’t.” She could picture them now, driving down a dirt road that was just too tempting to pass by. They would probably end up in a cow pasture somewhere, or in an Amish barn.
Closing the file cabinet with a soft click, Abby turned and faced Callan. “Mr. Sinclair, about this ring…” She gently touched the gold band. “Well, you shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble. I insist on reimbursing you for your expense.”
“Not necessary,” he said, glancing at the ring. “It has a fourteen-day return policy. Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful.” Exactly what she would have chosen herself, she thought. Her gaze lingered on the brilliant diamond and shiny gold band, and the lump that had been in her throat a few moments ago felt as if it had moved to her chest.
No one had ever given her anything this exquisite, and it didn’t seem to matter to her emotions that it wasn’t truly an engagement ring. She turned quickly and blinked away the moisture burning her eyes.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “For the ring and for lunch today. I know how awkward it had to be.”
He grinned at her. “Interesting would have been the word I would have used.”
Here it comes, she thought, and prepared herself. From the age of six, Abby had heard the taunts and insults about her unusual family. She’d learned to ignore the ridicule, had even pretended it didn’t bother her. But the fact was, it had hurt. It still did.
She’d spent her childhood praying that no one would notice her, that just one day she could walk home without someone pointing a finger and laughing. Bloom-field was the first place that she’d ever felt she’d finally fit in, the first place where no one made fun of her or her family.
Until today. After that lunch and her aunts’ musical presentation, everyone in town would be laughing at her, talking behind her back.
Well, too bad, she thought, and lifted her chin. Let them talk. In spite of the embarrassment she’d lived with growing up, she loved her aunts.
She wasn’t going to let anyone, not even Mr. Sinclair, say anything bad about Aunt Ruby or Emerald.
“I apologize if my aunts caused you any embarrassment,” she said evenly. “I assure you it won’t happen again.”
“Did I say they embarrassed me?” He placed a hand on his chest and lifted both brows. “Of course, you might have prepared me that they break into song at the drop of a hat, but other than that tiny little quirk, I think they’re terrific. Reese thought so, too. Thanks to their musical performances, his lunch crowd stayed longer and ordered more food and drink than ever. He already invited them both back for dinner, no charge, as long as they sing.”
Abby groaned silently. It wouldn’t be long before every one in Bloomfield heard about Ruby and Emerald Bliss, which meant that it wouldn’t be long before the entire town heard about Callan Sinclair and Abigail Thomas being engaged.
Alaska wasn’t far enough, she decided. A remote island somewhere. Just as long as no one knew her.
She moved to her desk and stared blankly at her computer screen. The “Fatal Error” message was definitely a sign. “This isn’t going to work.”
He stepped behind her and looked
at the computer. “I’ll get a repairman out here. Hell, I’ll buy you a whole new computer if you want one.”
She shook her head. “That’s not what I mean. I mean you and me, pretending to be engaged. The whole town is going to hear. I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask me to do anything, Abby. This was my idea, remember? Look, we got through lunch, didn’t we? We can manage a few more days.”
A few more days? How could she manage a few more days, when she’d barely made it through one little lunch? Even now his closeness made her feel light-headed. Made her feel warm. “Mr. Sinclair—”
With a sigh, he took hold of her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Abby, that’s the first area we need to work on. Now, try it again. What’s my name?”
With him holding her so close and his dark gaze so intent on her face, Abby couldn’t think of her own name. His name…
“Callan,” she said softly, and when he smiled his approval, she said it again, even softer, “Callan.”
His smile faded as he stared down at her. He moved his large hands up her arms to her shoulders. “Now you just need to relax.”
“I am relaxed,” she lied.
“You’re stiff as a concrete post.” His fingers worked at the knotted muscles on her shoulders. “And every time I touch you, a look of sheer terror comes over your face. What are you so afraid of?”
Her knees went weak when his fingertips massaged the nape of her neck. Heat curled from the top of her head and worked its way through her limbs, then pooled low in her belly. “I’m not afraid,” she insisted. “I just don’t…think of you that way, that’s all.”
He lifted one brow. “What way?”
“You know.” Abby felt her cheeks burn. “That way.”
“Oh.” His hands were moving on her shoulders again. “So what way do you think of me, then?”
His thumbs were moving in slow circles over her collarbone. She resisted the urge to close her eyes and lean into him. “Professionally,” she responded.
“Well, there’s the problem, then,” he said thoughtfully. “We need to change the way you think about me. Just for two weeks, of course.”
“But—”
“No buts.” He put a finger to her mouth, gently rubbed her bottom lip. “There’s that look again, Abby. Ruby and Emerald are going to get suspicious if you panic every time I touch you.”
She was too paralyzed to panic. Her heart pounded so furiously she was certain he could hear it. The masculine scent of him, the heat of his skin, the rough texture of his fingertip on her mouth. If he wasn’t still holding her with his other hand, she was certain she’d slip to the floor.
She blinked, forced herself to remember she was a grown woman, that he was simply trying to help her out of an embarrassing and difficult situation with her aunts. So maybe she was attracted to him a little. Or maybe even more than a little. Maybe a lot. So what? He certainly wasn’t attracted to her, so this had nowhere to go. What harm could it do if she did pretend for a few days? She might actually enjoy it.
“I’m not afraid,” she whispered, not sure she could tell the difference between fear and the thrill of his touch. “And I won’t panic.”
“We need to be sure,” he murmured, then slid off her glasses and set them on the desk. “For your aunts’ sake.”
“Of course.” She swallowed the thickness in her throat. “For my aunts’ sake.”
Callan stared at her mouth, then slowly, so very slowly, lowered his head to hers. She struggled to breathe, told herself it was just a test, an experiment. How else would they know?
The air shimmered with anticipation and still he hadn’t actually made contact. A shiver ran through her, her lips parted, waiting…waiting…
Callan hadn’t really intended to kiss Abby. He’d just wanted her to relax a little, to be comfortable around him. And what better way to get her to loosen up than to hold her close, to touch her and have her whisper his name? Didn’t that always work with other women?
But as he closed the distance between them, as he hovered near enough to feel her soft, sweet breath against his mouth, he wasn’t thinking about other women. He wasn’t thinking at all.
He had to taste her. Not like that little peck at the restaurant, though that brief brush of lips had intrigued him. No, he needed to really taste her this time. He had to.
He pressed his lips lightly to hers, a whisper of a touch, yet it packed more wallop than a prize-fighter’s punch. The shock of pleasure reverberated through him clear down to his boots, then sprang back upward and settled just below his belly. Stunned, he slid his hands down her back, pulling her closer as he eased the kiss deeper. Her lips parted, welcoming, and though he’d certainly never intended tongues to get involved here, his body seemed to suddenly have a mind of its own.
His heart slammed in his chest at the tentative slide of her warm, wet tongue over his. The kiss was as contradictory as the woman herself: wild, yet innocent, sweet, yet exotic. He’d never experienced anything like it. Her arms slid around his neck; her breasts pressed against his chest. Beautiful, soft breasts that he’d glimpsed briefly just last night and had thought about much too often. Incredible breasts encased in mint-green lace. His hands ached to touch them. His mouth ached to kiss them.
Her low moan brought him back to his senses. This was Abby, he reminded himself. He couldn’t take advantage of her, she didn’t know what she was doing. His body raged at him, but he’d regained just enough control to win the argument.
Slowly, reluctantly, he broke off the kiss and made the mistake of looking down at her. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen and wet from his kiss.
Oh, hell.
He was reaching for her again when the outer door opened and Gabe walked in. His brother froze, stared, then without a word, turned and walked out again.
Dammit, dammit, dammit.
Wouldn’t it just figure? Gabe rarely came to the office, but he just had to pick this exact moment to walk in. He had no idea how he was going to explain to Gabe that this was just an experiment, so to speak. Nothing more than an innocent kiss.
Innocent? He nearly laughed out loud. Who the hell was he kidding? There’d been nothing innocent about it at all. That kiss had been downright hot.
Which was exactly why he had to put a stop to it right now.
He took hold of her arms, caught sight of the computer monitor behind them and all he could see was, “Fatal Error.”
That was an understatement.
“Abby.”
“Hmm?” She stirred, unintentionally rubbing her breasts against his chest. He clenched his jaw to keep from dragging her into his office and taking her right there on his desk.
“Abby,” he said again. “Gabe just walked in.”
Her eyes, smoky-green and glazed with desire, opened slowly. “What?”
“My brother just came in, then left again.”
“Oh, dear.” With a gasp she dropped her arms and jumped away from him. Her face went pale. “Oh, dear.”
Not exactly the same words that had come to him, but close enough. “Don’t worry about it,” he said lightly. “I’ll explain it to him later. He’ll understand.”
The look in her eyes was doubtful. “He will?” Not in a hundred years. “Of course he will. Gabe can be a little intense, but he’s a reasonable man. He knows how important you are to the company. Hell, if I hadn’t suggested this, then Gabe would have done it himself.”
Though Gabe wasn’t the man for the job at all, Callan thought. Gabe would take the whole engagement business much too seriously, and besides, he wasn’t even remotely Abby’s type. Not that Callan knew what type was Abby’s, but it certainly wasn’t Gabe.
“I’m so sorry.” She sank down on her desk chair and closed her eyes. “What a mess I’ve made of everything.”
He wanted to comfort her, reassure her that there was no need to be concerned, but with his body still thrumming from that kiss, he decide
d it would be better to keep his distance. If he touched her again right now, he might not be so valiant.
Who would have thought that Abigail had that much passion underneath her tailored clothes and rigid manner? Some man was going to be a very lucky guy, Cal decided. He stared at her rosy, still-swollen lips, and his throat went dry. Very lucky.
But all he wanted was a secretary, he told himself. A good secretary was like gold, and Abby was twenty-four karat. He wouldn’t risk losing her just because he suddenly seemed to have a raging case of testosterone. He’d been busy these past few months and had seriously neglected a few basic human necessities. Though he hardly thought it prudent to go out on any dates while Emerald and Ruby were around, he would be sure and take care of those needs once they were gone.
“Everything is going to be fine,” he said, though he was feeling a little, uh, “tense” at the moment. “And there’s nothing to be sorry for, Abby.”
“Oh, but there is.” She bit her bottom lip, and the tiny, though incredibly sexy, gesture made blood shoot like an arrow to the middle section of Cal’s anatomy. She looked at him, her eyes round with misery. “There’s something else I haven’t told you.”
They’d already survived their sudden “engagement” and lunch with her aunts, what else could be so diffi-cult? Cal thought. He’d had no idea that Abby was such a worrier. “Just say it, Abby,” he encouraged. “It can’t be that bad.”
“I—” she hesitated, drew in a deep breath “—I told them that we were living together.”
Cal called a family meeting at his apartment late that afternoon. Reese and Gabe were sprawled on the living room sofa, arguing over which game to watch, basketball or baseball, while Lucian rooted through the refrigerator for a beer. Even his sister, Cara, who lived outside of Philadelphia, had made the thirty-minute drive after receiving his cryptic phone call. He hadn’t seen much of her since she’d gotten married a few months ago, but he’d been as consumed with his work lately as she’d been with her new husband, Ian, and her new job as vice president of the Killian Shawnessy Foundation that Ian’s grandmother had started in her grandson’s name.
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