The Party Starts at Midnight

by Lucy King

  And this time Abby couldn’t help smiling back, because, if she was being honest, she’d never really been able to reconcile the Jake she’d come to know over the weeks with the man she’d briefly considered he might be. It hadn’t made any sense, hadn’t seemed right.

  ‘I’d love to,’ she said, now with genuine regret because she enjoyed dancing, ‘but I really can’t. There are so many things that still need to be done.’

  ‘Come on,’ said Jake cajolingly. ‘It’s Christmas. You and your team have done an amazing job tonight. Surely you can relax for five minutes. You deserve it. Besides, you know you want to.’

  ‘How do you figure that?’

  ‘You were swaying and your feet were tapping so hard I was beginning to fear for my carpet.’

  He was right, and as the music segued into an irresistible mash-up of Christmas tunes she could feel it happening again. Her feet were itching and her body was tingling with the urge to move. And whether it was the effect of his charm and powers of persuasion or the sudden overwhelming need to burn off her frustration at her totally wrecked peace of mind she didn’t know. All she knew was that she was going to relent.

  ‘All right,’ she said and instantly felt the pressure inside her ease, ‘I guess five minutes wouldn’t hurt.’

  ‘Great,’ said Jake, taking her hand and leading her towards the dance floor. ‘Let’s hit it.’

  * * *

  Ten seconds ago Leo had been semi-engaged in a one-sided conversation with a planning officer for an east London council and thinking about heading upstairs to bed because he’d had more than enough of tonight.

  Firstly he’d hit his limit with all this relentless festive bloody cheer about an hour ago, and if he had to agree one more time that, yes, Christmas was a lovely time of year when frankly he couldn’t think of a less lovely time of year he wouldn’t be responsible for the consequences. And secondly he was sick to the back teeth of the unusual, unnerving and deeply unwelcome way that tonight he hadn’t been able to concentrate on, well, anything, really.

  All he wanted, therefore, was to leave, find some space and some distance to sort himself out.

  However the moment he spied his brother first leading Abby onto the dance floor and then taking her into his arms, semi-engagement in the conversation turned to disengagement, his mood turned from bad to filthy and any intention he might have had of going vanished.

  Oh, damn it all to hell. Just when he thought he’d got over his ridiculous fixation with Abby, there she was, right in front of him, derailing his thoughts and destroying his concentration.

  All night he’d been aware of her, flitting in and out of the room while she presumably checked that everything was on track and kept Jake up to speed with what was going on. Every time he caught a glimpse of reddish-blonde hair he’d found his attention veering away from whatever conversation he was having in case it was her, which, nine times out of ten, it wasn’t.

  This time, however, it was, although what she was doing on the dance floor and in Jake’s arms he had no idea.

  Or did he? Hadn’t Jake mentioned he’d be asking her to dance? And hadn’t he, Leo, told him to go for it? He had, and given how persuasive he knew Jake could be he shouldn’t be surprised that Abby had fallen for it. It wasn’t his concern who she danced with, so that thing burning inside him wasn’t jealousy, of course, because that would be absurd. No, it was boiling frustration that he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind, that he was somehow off tonight, and that once a-bloody-gain the conversation he’d been sort of having was history, that was all.

  ‘Leo?’ said the woman beside him, and with annoying difficulty he snapped his attention away from the dance floor to his companion.

  At least he could be sure that his expression reflected none of the mess churning around inside him, he thought, giving her a quick smile as if that might make up for the fact he didn’t have a clue what she’d been saying. ‘What?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Let’s talk next week,’ he said, going for non-committal and generic in the hope that it covered all bases, which apparently it did.

  ‘I’ll call you.’

  ‘Great,’ he said, his attention already fading and his gaze involuntarily sliding back to the dance floor, more specifically to the woman in the middle of it who was now beginning to move.

  ‘Would you like to dance?’

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t.’

  ‘I see,’ said Anna? Hannah? Susanna? with a faint smile. ‘You’re the type that likes to watch.’

  And it seemed he was, because despite his best efforts to the contrary he couldn’t take his eyes off Abby. At first she seemed to be messing around, dancing as cheesily as the music, but then something slower came on and her moves gentled, became less frenetic, more languid, more sinuous. Jake twirled her and dipped her, tried—and alarmingly pleasingly failed—to pull her in close, and the longer he watched, the more transfixed Leo became.

  It was odd, he thought, his pulse beating unnaturally fast. It wasn’t as if she were the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, so why was he so aware of her? Why did he find her so arresting? So compelling? Why did he want to leap to his feet, shove Jake aside and take over?

  None of it made any sense, and because it didn’t he didn’t like it one little bit. It meant he didn’t know what was happening and therefore wasn’t in control, which was a situation he hadn’t experienced for years and had taken great care to avoid.

  But Abby was a situation he couldn’t avoid because unfortunately, later, he was going to have to seek her out.

  When Jake had asked him before dinner if what had happened up there in his flat was going to be a problem he hadn’t needed to expand. They were both well aware that their reputation was a fragile thing. Not all their developments were popular and their opponents would use anything they could lay their hands on to influence planning decisions. As his brother was always saying, the integrity of the company—and the two of them—was of utmost importance, and if anything called it into question serious damage could be done.

  And while Leo might be the numbers man who preferred to stay in the background and leave all the publicity stuff to his brother, the business and its success meant everything to him. He hadn’t spent years building it up only to have it potentially destroyed by one moment of lunacy, so if Abby had a problem with what had happened earlier he’d fix it. The sooner the better. He really had no choice.

  To that end, he ought to be figuring out a strategy, not watching his brother maul Abby and grinding his teeth. Somewhere else, because here he was barely able to think straight, let alone strategise, so, with a muttered excuse and a tight smile to the planning officer whose name he couldn’t remember, Leo got to his feet.

  He shot Abby one last quick glance, which was a mistake because for one split second she returned it, and he nearly crashed into a table. Taking the feeling that he’d been thumped in the solar plexus and then bashed over the head as pretty much par for the course this evening, Leo set his jaw and made for the exit.

  * * *

  Alone in the vast conference room that had doubled up as the venue for tonight’s celebrations, Abby flopped onto a chair, eased her heels off with a grimace and flexed her toes. God, that felt good. Her shoes were about as comfortable as shoes could get, but after six hours on her feet and then a quarter of an hour on that dance floor she could quite happily do with never setting eyes on the damn things ever again.

  Crossing one leg over the other and massaging one of her soles, she glanced round the dimly lit room, now cleared of the festive decorations that had festooned the place, the crockery, the cutlery, the glassware and the tablecloths, and, in contrast to the noisy buzz of earlier, eerily silent.

  Tomorrow the tables would go, the dance floor would be dismantled and the room once again div
ided into three, but just for five minutes, before she turned off the one remaining light and left, she could reminisce and indulge in the satisfaction of a job well done.

  All in all, tonight had been quite a night, she thought with a smile as her mind drifted over the events of the evening. The food, the drink and the entertainment had all gone off with the minimum of hitches, the guests had had a great time and Jake had been pleased. As far as she knew no one had photocopied their bottom and the stationery cupboard hadn’t been commandeered for inappropriate usage.

  Of course, with the attention to detail and the meticulous planning she always lavished on every event she organised, she’d have expected nothing less than perfection, and the subcontractors she worked with, most of whom she’d known for years and were the best, knew that. But still. Tonight had been good.

  Which was particularly pleasing because this was the first event she’d organised for the Cartwright brothers and she was hoping it wouldn’t be the last. Clients like these—who were big, influential, and willing to give her the perfect combination of a generous budget, few requirements and total control—weren’t all that common and she wouldn’t mind hanging onto them.

  She certainly hadn’t minded hanging onto Jake when she’d locked gazes with Leo back there on the dance floor and her knees had practically given way, she thought as the giant glitter ball moved a fraction, caught the light and took her back to the moment in question.

  It hadn’t been so much the look on his face that had rocked her, because that had been as neutral as ever, but it was the sensation that he’d been watching her. Intently. And for a while. That had made her feel all weirdly flustered inside and if Jake hadn’t been there to catch her when she stumbled she’d have ignominiously hit the deck.

  Leo had disappeared by the time they’d come off the dance floor, thank goodness. So had the brunette, although she didn’t want to think about that particular coincidence. Switching into work mode a lot later than she should have done, Abby had legged it to the kitchens and from then on had focused on what she was there to do.

  She hadn’t seen Leo again, and it occurred to her now that the prospect of doing so in the future was highly unlikely. The night was over and even if she did get more work here she’d likely liaise with the relevant department. The only reason she’d had direct contact with Jake about this evening was because he held the admirable and rare view that if he handled things—even if it simply meant hiring her—then it was a party for everyone, not everyone bar the person who had to organise it.

  And it was totally fine. Better that way, actually, because Leo Cartwright, whether in her league or out of it, had made her feel all kinds of things she’d really rather not, none of them remotely professional. Plus, he made her think with her body instead of her head, and that was unusual enough to be deeply unsettling, so all in all if she never saw him again, it would be for the best. In fact—

  ‘Here you are.’

  At the sound of the deep voice behind her Abby gasped and jumped, and swivelled round to find the man himself standing in the doorway, leaning one shoulder against the frame, his hands in his pockets, his eyes dark and his expression inscrutable as he looked down at her.

  She blinked, just in case tiredness had caught up with her and she’d started hallucinating, but no. He was still there. Looking tired and dishevelled with his bow tie hanging untied around his neck and the top couple of buttons of his shirt undone, but nevertheless so devastatingly handsome that she went all hot and tingly while her stomach did a weird kind of swoop.

  ‘Goodness, you gave me a fright,’ she said, clapping a hand to her chest as if that might sort out her suddenly erratic breathing.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said with the hint of a smile that sent her stomach into free fall all over again, her head into a spin and made her wonder dizzily what it was about him in particular that had her responding so viscerally. ‘Although fair’s fair, don’t you think?’

  ‘Is it?’ she said, for a moment not having a clue what he was referring to because all she could think of was how there wasn’t anything fair about him at all. Everything was dark. Smoulderingly, broodingly and sizzlingly attractively dark.

  ‘I think so.’ A pause. ‘Although, strictly speaking, you’d have to be the one who was naked.’

  Abby snapped her gaze back to his, to find him watching her with a look of cool amusement on his face. Naked? What on earth was he talking about? Did he want her naked? For a moment yet more heat rushed through her and her heart galloped and she seriously considered leaping off the chair and throwing herself at him.

  But then—thank heavens—sanity struck and it suddenly hit her. The penthouse. His state of undress. The misunderstanding. The half an hour she’d been so badly trying to forget.

  Really not wanting to go there, Abby hmmed while her heart rate slowed and her body temperature cooled, and decided it might be safer for her poor overworked organs if she changed the subject.

  ‘So what can I do for you?’ she asked, trying not to worry because the party had ended an hour ago and why he’d be roaming the ground floor of the hotel at nearly one in the morning she couldn’t imagine. ‘Is there a problem?’

  He shook his head. ‘No problem.’

  ‘Then what is it?’

  ‘I wanted to thank you for everything you did this evening.’

  A warm glow of professional satisfaction spread through her, momentarily dampening the desire. ‘You’re welcome.’

  ‘It was a great party.’

  ‘It had good hosts.’ She shot him a quick smile. ‘Not to mention an excellent planner.’

  ‘The latter is certainly true.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  And then that seemed to be that for conversation because Leo didn’t say anything else, just carried on looking at her, and quite suddenly Abby found that she couldn’t have said anything even if she’d wanted to because their gazes had locked and all she could concentrate on were his eyes. His mesmerising, thought-destroying, soul-shattering eyes...

  Dark and bottomless, they were the kind of eyes a girl could lose herself in, she thought dizzily. Totally lose herself in, forgetting everything while clinging to those shoulders and wrapping her legs around his waist and crying out as he smoothly slid inside her, moving slowly at first then faster and harder, until there were no words, no thoughts, nothing but spiralling tension and breathy moans and then lovely, lovely release...

  ‘Thanking you wasn’t the only reason I came to find you,’ he said, his words—oddly loud and hoarse in the heavy, thick silence—cutting through her thoughts and making her land back on Earth with a bump.

  ‘Oh?’ she said, her voice a lot breathier and her heart beating a lot faster than was appropriate for a woman who never lost herself or clung, and who’d sworn never again to think about what she’d seen when that bed sheet had slipped.

  ‘I’d like to apologise for what happened earlier.’

  ‘You already did,’ she said with an overly bright smile, as if beaming like a maniac might somehow detract from the give-away blush she could feel burning her cheeks and the breathlessness.

  ‘Not enough. Not nearly enough. I was totally out of order.’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘It was a misunderstanding.’

  Taking a couple of deep steadying breaths and pulling herself together because she had absolutely no business fantasising about him, Abby twisted round and slipped her feet back into the vices that were her shoes. ‘I’ll say.’

  ‘But not one I’d ever make under normal circumstances.’

  ‘No, well, I guess the circumstances weren’t all that normal,’ she said, trying not to wince as leather heel met sore blister.

  ‘They weren’t. I’ve spent the last month scoping out development possibilities across a dozen countries on three continents. I barely kn
ow what time zone I’m in.’

  ‘As you said, I must have given you quite a shock.’

  He nodded. ‘You did.’

  ‘You were probably a bit disorientated. Confused, even.’

  ‘I was. And I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ she said with a wave of her hand and a reassuring smile as she straightened and turned back to him. ‘Really. It’s not an issue.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  She nodded, crossed her legs to ease at least one of her poor lacerated heels and linked her hands around her knee. ‘Absolutely. I’m not going to go round telling everyone you accused me of being a prostitute, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

  He arched an eyebrow. ‘No?’

  ‘Of course not. In my business discretion is a given. Whatever the occasion and whatever the circumstances. So your secret is perfectly safe with me.’

  His expression didn’t flicker for a second, but Abby thought she detected a slight ease in the tension gripping his shoulders and there was definitely a faint smile playing at his mouth. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Anyway, I’m sure there are perfectly valid reasons for thinking that your brother would procure a prostitute for you,’ she said, curiosity getting the better of her because the Cartwright brothers were notoriously private, this one being especially hard to read, and she suddenly wanted to know everything.

  ‘Possibly.’

  ‘Care to share them?’

  ‘Not particularly.’ He rubbed a hand along his jaw and regarded her thoughtfully. ‘You know, I’d actually quite like to forget about the whole thing.’

  ‘Oh, so would I, so would I,’ she said with a regretful shake of her head as she decided she wasn’t above a little emotional manipulation if it meant finding out what was going on behind that stony façade of his. ‘But you see it’s going to niggle away at me for days.’ She bit her lip and frowned. ‘And now I think about it, maybe I do deserve an explanation.’

  Leo arched an eyebrow. ‘In return for your silence?’

  She tsked and grinned. ‘You make it sound like blackmail.’