by Lucy King
‘It was completely and utterly amazing,’ she said, the delight in her voice so obvious it made him smile. ‘I don’t think I’ll be coming down off the high for days.’
‘I told you to trust me, didn’t I?’
‘You did.’
‘Was it worth it?’
Abby flashed him a grin. ‘What do you think?’
‘The job?’
‘In the bag.’
‘Well done,’ he said, and told himself that whatever it was that had just stabbed him in the chest was hunger because it couldn’t possibly be pride. Definitely hunger. He was ravenous.
‘Thanks. Although I’m not sure how much of it was down to me and how much of it was Caroline wanting to stay in Jake’s good books.’
‘Don’t be modest,’ said Leo, knowing that wanting to stay in Jake’s good books was a complete waste of time. ‘You’re brilliant at what you do.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Tell me more about this morning.’
‘Are you sure? Because once I start I might not be able to stop.’
‘We have an hour to kill,’ he said. ‘So I say, go for it.’
She shifted and twisted round a bit and even though he had to keep his eyes on the road he could feel hers on him. Could feel the heat of her gaze right down to his bones.
‘Well,’ she said, her voice brimming with enthusiasm, ‘first of all I had the set tour, which was absolutely fascinating. You know parts of it are actually like a proper hospital. I bet if push came to shove they could carry out real operations there.’
‘Would you want to risk it?’
‘I would if Joe Hamilton was the doctor on duty.’
‘Joe Hamilton?’ said Leo, thinking, as his gaze flickered from the road to her for a second, that he didn’t like the look of adoration on her face one little bit.
‘Cardiac surgeon. Brilliant. Gorgeous. Arrogant. Big hit with the women but a total bastard, naturally. I saw him having a sneaky cigarette behind a trailer. We chatted for a bit and it was dreamy,’ she added with a sigh.
Leo hmmed and frowned and told himself that he couldn’t possibly be jealous of this Joe Hamilton person because being jealous of a fictional character was just plain mad.
‘Then what?’ he prompted when the silence stretched for a bit too long and it occurred to him that she might well have drifted off into a daydream about the brilliant, gorgeous cardiac surgeon.
‘Oh. Well, then I got to see some actual filming, which is of course far less glamorous and far harder work than you might think as a viewer. And when it was time to stop I had lunch with the cast and crew.’
‘Fun?’
‘Brilliant. The stories they have. You wouldn’t believe half of them... So, anyway, what about you? What did you do while I was living it up with the stars?’
‘I checked out a site nearby for possible development.’
‘Interesting?’
‘Very.’
‘So a good day had by all, then?’
‘It would seem so.’
And if things went the way he hoped it was only going to get better.
* * *
Abby couldn’t remember the last time an hour had passed so quickly or conversation had been so effortless. They’d told each other more about their mornings, and then moved on to other, more general things. She’d asked him about rowing and he’d invited her to the Boat Race. A casual invitation, sure, but that hadn’t stopped her holding it close and melting a little bit more inside.
She couldn’t remember ever wanting someone so much, quite so desperately either, but then she’d never come across anyone like Leo before.
Where he’d got the reputation for being cold, ruthless and forbidding she had no idea because when the man put his mind to it he could be charming. Very charming indeed. Who’d have thought that he’d turn out to have a sense of humour, albeit an extremely dry one? Who’d have thought he’d actually be able to crack jokes?
Her immunity to it, to him, was now non-existent, and she’d lost count of the number of times she’d had to bite her tongue to stop herself demanding he drive her to the nearest hotel. And it didn’t even matter, because now she’d decided to embark on a fling, relationship, whatever with him, she didn’t need to be immune. She didn’t need to resist him any longer.
All she needed to do was tell him. And wasn’t now, when they’d arrived back at her house and were within spitting distance of privacy and a bed, the perfect time?
‘Thank you, Leo,’ she said, unclipping her seat belt and twisting round to face him, her heart pounding so hard she was in danger of cracking a rib.
‘What for?’
‘Today. Setting up the meeting. And the tour.’
‘No problem.’
She smiled. ‘It was thoughtful.’
There was a moment’s silence, then he frowned. ‘Thoughtful?’
‘It’s the first time that anyone’s set anything up for me in as long as I can remember.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘When you do what I do, whenever there’s a wedding or a party or whatever—and I don’t mean work, I mean when it comes to friends—you end up being asked to organise it. And it’s fine. It really is. I love it. It’s just that every now and then it would be nice to go to something that I haven’t had to organise. Like today. It was lovely.’
You’re lovely, she thought, although that was something she’d be keeping to herself for now because it was so unbelievably sentimental if she did tell him she’d only sound like a soppy fool. Instead she let her gaze drift over his face. She saw heat in his eyes and tension in his jaw. She heard the tiny hitch of his breath and it drew her attention to his mouth.
Then it was she who was being drawn to him because almost as if she had no control over herself she was slowly moving forwards, closer and closer, until her mouth was a centimetre from his and she could sense the restraint he was exerting over himself, not moving a muscle.
And for a split second, a moment before their mouths met, Abby hesitated. Once she did this there’d be no going back, so was she one hundred per cent sure she wanted to?
She was, oh, how she was...
‘Do it,’ he said so softly she almost didn’t hear him.
‘Do what?’
‘Kiss me.’
‘Is that what you think I’m thinking of doing?’ she murmured teasingly.
‘Yes.’
‘Can’t imagine why.’
His gaze held hers. Their breaths mingled, and she was nearly passing out with anticipation. ‘You want to. You know you do. I know you do. So do it. Out of gratitude, if nothing else.’
What?
Abby went still. ‘Out of gratitude?’ she said, drawing back and frowning at him, the feelings of loveliness and anticipation evaporating beneath a whirl of confusion. ‘Why would I kiss you out of gratitude?’
‘Because you are. Grateful, I mean. Aren’t you?’ He smiled faintly. Warmly. With satisfaction.
In triumph?
‘So you might as well give in, Abby,’ he said, and just like that her dreamy bubble burst and everything about today became blindingly and horribly clear.
By organising the meeting and the set tour Leo hadn’t been being thoughtful. He hadn’t been being lovely.
He’d been manipulating her. And why? Well, to make her break her work/pleasure rule and get into her knickers, of course. Why else?
How could she have been such a fool?
Hadn’t she thought he’d given in remarkably easily when she’d turned him down at dinner a week ago? Hadn’t she congratulated herself on a job well done? She should have analysed it more. Should have asked herself the questions such an end to the night should have thrown up.
And she
was such an idiot for assuming he’d changed. Such a bloody idiot. Or course he wouldn’t have changed. He was a man. There she’d been thinking that there was something going on between them, that things were maybe developing, and all he’d been doing was manoeuvring her into bed.
Everything he’d said today had been planned. Designed. Calculated. He hadn’t suddenly decided to open up to her. He hadn’t suddenly embraced the idea of expressing his feelings, his innermost thoughts. And he never would.
Yet she’d been imagining a relationship with him. Had she gone truly insane? Would she never learn? After all she wasn’t even dateable, was she? Not after the night she’d slept with him. Not now. Maybe not ever again.
Why would he do something nice, something thoughtful, for her anyway? They hardly knew each other. She was nothing more than a challenge to be won, and she’d been so blindsided by the strength of their chemistry, the charm, her fledgling feelings, which with hindsight she should have nipped in the bud way back, she just hadn’t seen it coming.
Well, whatever, she thought, the hurt and humiliation shooting through her congealing into something hard and cold in her stomach. She saw it now. She saw it all. The tiny part of her that was flattered that he wanted her so much could forget it. His behaviour sucked. He wasn’t the man she’d thought he was. He was a louse. And as for her, there weren’t words to describe what an idiotic fool she’d been. Talk about dumbing down. She hadn’t even needed to try.
‘On second thoughts,’ she said coolly, ‘forget the kiss.’
Leo’s smile faded and he looked genuinely perplexed, as well he might, because he must have thought he had her right where he wanted her. ‘Forget it?’
‘I’m grateful, but I’m not that grateful.’
He frowned. ‘I don’t get it.’
‘Don’t you?’ she said, arching an eyebrow, her tone just this side of scathing because that she’d been such a fool hurt. Badly. ‘Really? Well, why don’t I put you straight? I know what you’re doing, Leo.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Today. The meeting. The tour. The charm. The invitation to the Boat Race. It’s all been about buttering me up.’
Something flickered in the depths of his eyes, and his fingers tightened on the steering wheel and if she’d had any last, lingering hope that she’d got it wrong, that he was interested in her and not just because of the heat they generated in bed, it evaporated.
‘What I don’t get,’ she said, using the stab of pain to fuel her words instead of rip her apart, ‘is why you would do something like that. Why you would go to such lengths just to get me back into bed.’ She kept her gaze fixed to his but it was hard when it was so impossible to work out what was going on in that warped head of his. ‘And why would you so completely disrespect my decision to keep work and fun separate? Does what I want matter so little compared with what you want? Why have you singled me out? What’s so important about me?’She broke off to give him a chance to answer any one of those questions, but of course he didn’t, so she said as much for her benefit as his, ‘You know, my time is too valuable to waste playing such ridiculous games and I’d have thought yours was too. So you know what? Enough of this. It stops now. I’ll see you at the party, Leo, and not a moment before.’
And how she did it she’d never know with the way her whole body was shaking, but she got out of the car, walked up to her front door and she didn’t look back once.
* * *
It was only when Abby closed her front door behind her and disappeared from view that the restraint Leo had been employing snapped, and, swearing violently, he thumped the steering wheel.
How had things gone so badly wrong? How had he managed to ruin what had been a near perfect moment? Everything had been going so well. So well. He’d had her practically in the palm of his hand. She’d been on the verge of giving in, kissing him, and he’d been burning up with anticipation, dizzy with desire. He’d been so close to achieving what he wanted and giving her what he knew she wanted.
And then—snap—he’d screwed it up.
It had been the ‘thoughtful’ thing that had done it, he thought darkly, wishing he could rewind time and do the last ten minutes again. That she’d so totally misread the situation had made him feel uncomfortable. Somehow traitorous. And oddly guilty.
Not liking or understanding any of that he’d needed to get things back on track, put what was happening back into perspective, and that was why he’d gone for the gratitude angle.
But what a mistake that had been because he’d underestimated Abby. He’d never considered that she might see his plan for what it was, but he should have because unlike him she was no fool.
He’d never considered the consequences of her seeing through him either, but if he had he’d have assumed he’d have felt annoyed. Frustrated, perhaps.
Instead he felt like a complete and utter heel.
Leo ran his hands through his hair and forced himself to unclench his jaw before it shattered. He should have said something when she’d launched all those questions at him. In this instance silence had not been an effective weapon. It had simply proven his guilt.
But what could he have said when she’d been right on practically every count?
Her words ricocheted around his brain all over again and he grimaced in, yes, shame, because what right did he have to so completely disrespect her wishes? None. Was what he wanted more important than what she wanted? Of course not.
He’d been acting like a jerk. Envious of and frustrated by her strength of will when his was non-existent, and completely overwhelmed by the attraction, the desire he had for her.
But that was all it was, he reassured himself, as he struggled for calm. Desire. It would fade. Eventually. It always did. He didn’t know why he’d singled her out. There wasn’t anything special about her. And their time was too precious to waste.
So that would be it, he thought, pulling himself together and gunning the engine. No more obsessing. No more planning. And no more games. He’d be backing right off.
* * *
The reasons Leo had rescheduled all his appointments for the three days that ran up to party night, therefore, were purely of a practical nature.
For one thing the event was taking place at his house. If there were any questions about anything it would be better and quicker if he was on hand to answer them. For another, as he’d never really thought about the preparations of any event he’d ever attended, he’d like to see what was going on, how things were done, and, in this case, where, exactly, his money was being spent. He wanted to make sure no damage was done to the furniture. See that no one ran off with the silver. That sort of thing. He might even be able to help.
Besides, it had been a while since he’d been down here, and he’d kind of forgotten why he’d bought the house in the first place. It would be good to reconnect with the building and figure out what he was going to do with it.
If the need arose, he could easily work from here. And relax, because it was peaceful out here, and on the bank of the lake was a boathouse, which contained at least two skiffs and half a dozen oars.
His reasons for coming had nothing to do with wanting to see Abby, of course. Absolutely nothing at all. She’d told him in no uncertain terms to back off and leave her alone, and that was exactly what he’d done.
Bar replying to a couple of emails she’d sent he hadn’t been in touch, and that had been absolutely fine. He hadn’t missed the contact in the slightest. He hadn’t missed her in the slightest. The last fortnight had been terrific. Not as busy as he’d have liked work-wise, but, hey, he’d sculled so many miles along the Thames he could have gone to Holland and back. Twice. And taking his parents to the Boat Race had been fun. Huge fun.
He had to admit, though, that staying away from Abby hadn’t been easy. His conscience had kicked in with full f
orce practically the minute he’d arrived at his office after dropping her home, and had then set about hammering him with wave upon wave of guilt at the way he’d behaved. Guilt that time had only increased and only a grovelling apology might assuage.
But how could he deliver an apology when she was undoubtedly not in the frame of mind to receive one?
It was a dilemma that had been puzzling him for a while and he’d spent a considerable amount of time wondering how to manufacture an opportunity to do so before remembering that he was no longer manufacturing anything when it came to her. But now he thought about it, if the chance to apologise arose this week, then he’d try, because frankly the guilt was driving him insane.
The gravel on the drive crunched, and Leo leapt to his feet and strode over to the window of his first-floor study to see who it was. He watched Abby get out of her car, pause, then turn and bend down to reach for her handbag, and as his entire body tensed and his pulse spiked he told himself once again that he’d made the right decision to reschedule his appointments and come here, because, whatever the secondary benefits, all he was really doing was keeping an eye on what was his.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘SO ARE YOU THERE YET?’
Holding her phone to her ear with one hand and swinging her handbag over her shoulder with the other, Abby smiled because a fortnight on and Gemma sounded as if she was still bristling on her behalf.
‘I’ve literally just arrived,’ she said, closing her door and leaning against it for a moment because she could definitely afford to relax enough to have a quick conversation with the best friend who’d been so loyal over the last couple of weeks.
‘And is he there?’
Seeing as hers was the only car she could spy, apart from a small green hatchback that she presumed belonged to the housekeeper, it didn’t look like it. There was certainly no sign of a red—what was it?—V-something-engine, bazillion-horsepower, nought-to-a-hundred-in-a-nanosecond number.
‘Nope,’ she said, ignoring the faint stab of what she would have suspected was disappointment if being disappointed that he wasn’t there weren’t completely and utterly absurd.
