"Oh," she said, having no desire to argue and little ability to resist him, "that one does the trick."
As she crossed the room, he opened his arms. She walked into them, welcoming the comfort she always found there.
"You know—" She tilted her head back so she could look at his handsome face. "When you hold me, I can almost forget about everything else."
"Almost?" His smile would tempt Satan. "I must be slipping." He caught her by the hand, pulling her toward the staircase.
"Where are we going?" It was a silly question.
"What?" He mocked. "You think you can issue a challenge like that and expect me not to respond?"
As was his habit of doing, he swung her up in his arms, holding her close against his chest. "You should know better, Abby. I don't take my ability to make you mindless lightly."
"I do know." She laughed against his shoulder. "Why do you think I brought it up?"
"You little tease." He took the stairs as if she weighed no more than a feather pillow. "And now," he said seconds later as he let her slide down the length of his hard body, "I'm going to make you forget everything but two simple words."
Her knees went weak as his lips began to sear a trail of flaming kisses down the side of her neck. "What two words?" she asked, her ability to concentrate on anything but his wicked mouth slipping away with alarming speed.
His tongue found her ear and he whispered, "Gage, please."
Five minutes later, pleasure was her abode. It hummed through her veins as he plucked the chords of her desire. It drove her upward, seeking more of his touch. She opened herself to it, welcomed it, gave herself up to it, and he gave her what she asked for.
"Gage, please," the words came forth on a breathless moan. "Please," she said again, and again, and again.
~~~
Gage watched the moon crest above the bank of skylights running across the back peak of the bedroom ceiling to spill its muted light into the room. Abby's fingers played in the hair on his chest, her nails scraping lightly over his flat nipple. He shivered.
Catching her hand, he brought it to his mouth and kissed the baby soft skin on the inside of her wrist. He could feel the beat of her pulse against his lips.
"I went to the Roundhouse this afternoon to meet with Simms," he said. He'd planned to tell her earlier after they'd finished working, but he'd seen that envelope from Stevens and jumped on her about it without thinking. Of course, then he'd gotten to spend a very enjoyable two hours making it up to her.
Abby leaned up on her elbow beside him. Her expression turned immediately worried. She searched his face, his eyes, silently looking for the answers to the dozens of questions he knew were already racing through her mind, pricking her fears.
"What did he want?" she asked, and he heard the concern in her voice.
He slipped an arm around under her hip, lifting her onto his chest. "Relax, he just wanted to talk."
"About what? Why did he want to talk to you? He didn't accuse you of anything, did he?" She sounded anxious. "I won't let them harass you because of me. That's so unfair. Guilt by association, you know that's all it is!"
"Hold on there, tiger." He chuckled and pulled her up higher where his mouth had access to hers. "Baker's an asshole, and I wouldn't be inclined to ask Simms to join me for a drink after work, but after our meeting this afternoon, I am considering canceling the contract I took out on him."
"That's not funny, Gage."
"You're right. But I never claimed humor as my strong point." He caught her lower lip between his teeth. "Want to know what is?"
She grinned against his mouth. "I already do. Now, what brought about this change of heart?"
"I believe he thinks you're innocent," he told her.
She pushed up on both hands, locking her elbows, and stared down at him as if she didn't know if she'd heard him right.
"He thinks I'm innocent?"
"He didn't say that precisely, but I believe he's uncovered some things that make him question your guilt. Did you know he talked to your father?"
"No," she said, glancing away. Her mom had called several times to see how she was doing, but her dad hadn't bothered to get on the phone once, either to offer support or find fault.
"Rachael must have created some doubt in Simms's mind when she went in to see him about your diary. Apparently, he contacted your father sometime after her visit and got a similar story. Of course, Simms didn't reveal any of this to me until after I answered his questions about the night your dad confronted me."
"He called Rach to ask about James as well, and within minutes of when we left the station," Abby said.
"It worked to your advantage he was able to reach her so quickly." Gage kissed her forehead. "She must have been pretty convincing then as well because Simms seems to be putting a lot of effort into trying to validate your story."
"I hope you're right. It's weird, though. I'm surprised Simms would be willing to accept anything Rach tells him because they seem to aggravate the hell out of each other. I've never seen her act like she did when we ran into him outside the Westville Café. I know she pushes the envelope sometimes, but she was shoving the whole mail truck off the cliff that night."
Gage chuckled. "What did Simms do?"
Abby frowned. "Actually, I think he was amused, which of course pissed Rach off even more." She drew a deep breath. "She's just upset the police suspect me, and she probably blames Simms personally since he's the one leading the investigation. I do know she doesn't like him, though, and she doesn't try to hide it. In fact she seems to go out of her way to make the point, especially to him."
"Well, whatever the case, I think Simms believes you were telling them the truth now about the waiter and the diary."
"But even if the police verified what I said, the diary still presents a problem. They might believe you and I didn't have an illicit affair fourteen years ago, but they suspect we're involved now. It also doesn't change the fact they found my diary in Dick's townhouse. Or that Dick believed you and I were having an affair. It's still evidence and somehow it fits in to his murder. It stills ties things to me."
Her points were well taken, but Gage still didn't think Simms believed she'd killed her ex or that their relationship had anything to do with the guy's death. He also didn't feel the need to let her know he'd virtually confirmed their relationship with the detective.
"I didn't say we should break out the Dom Perignon and chocolates yet. I just thought you'd like to know Detective Simms might be more on your side than we thought. I can't say I like him. Like Rachael, I don't like seeing you get hurt, but he's smart, and I've got a feeling his focus is shifting away from you because he's on to something."
"I hope you're right, Gage. I just want things to be normal again, although I'm not sure what that is anymore after the last year and a half."
He rubbed a hand down her back. "It'll get better." He vowed to himself he'd make it better for her.
They were both quiet for several minutes, each nursing their own thoughts.
"I'm supposed to meet Matt Silver at four tomorrow afternoon for a site visit. Is there anything I should know before going?"
"Wear comfortable shoes," he advised.
She laughed. "Comfortable shoes, that's it?"
"Yeah," Gage smiled down at her. "And make sure you wear the hard hat Matt gives you. Other than that, I just thought you might enjoy seeing the actual site."
"I think I will, too. Will you be there?"
"No. I've got to go to New York tomorrow morning. Brett and I will be catching a flight out of La Guardia for Chicago later in the afternoon."
"Oh," she said, sounding surprised. "You didn't say anything. How long will you be gone?"
"A few days. I meant to tell you sooner, but I got distracted with other things, and it slipped my mind. Brett and I are meeting with GFI's executive managers Saturday to announce some organizational changes, and I've got a Board of Directors' meeting Monday morning. I'm hoping to be back late Mon
day night, Tuesday at the latest."
She nodded. "Does Simms know?"
"I told him this afternoon. He rolled her onto her back and came over her. "I'll call you when I get home tomorrow night, but the plane doesn't get into O'Hare until almost ten so it'll be late."
"You don't have to do that." She glanced away with lowered lashes, her eyes hidden from him. "You're going to have a long day. You'll probably be tired when you get home."
He could tell something he'd said bothered her. "It really did slip my mind," he said, guessing she might be hurt he hadn't mentioned the trip until now. He tipped her chin up. "You're not upset, are you?"
"Of course not," she said and sniffed. "You're being pulled in a dozen directions. You certainly don't owe me an accounting of where you are or what you do with your time."
He watched her a moment, not sure he liked her response. He'd never wanted commitment from a woman, maybe because he'd never thought he could devote himself to a relationship the way other people did. It had never bothered him before now. He'd never be able to give her as much time as some men could, but for the first time in his life he was willing to offer whatever was in his power to. And if they couldn't have as much time, he'd work that much harder to make what they could get special.
"I'll miss you," he said. He'd considered asking her to go with him. But he'd be working all weekend, probably late every night. Expecting her to hang out at his house all day just so he could steal a few hours with her while they slept would be selfish.
She touched her palm to his cheek. "I'll miss you, too."
"I should probably get going." He rolled over and sat up on the edge of the bed. "I'm supposed to meet Brett at the Amtrak station at six tomorrow morning." He picked up his clothes where they'd been hastily discarded and began to dress.
He'd already stayed later than he'd planned. By the time he got back to
Rittenhouse Square it would be after eleven. He still had to review tomorrow's meeting notes and pack a few things to take to Chicago. He'd just finished tying his shoes when he heard Abby moving behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw her scoot off the other side of the bed. She drew on a light blue chenille robe that had been folded on top of the wooden chest near the footboard.
"I hope you have a good trip. I've always loved taking the train." She wrapped the robe closed and tightened the belt around her waist.
"When I was a kid," she said, coming around beside him, "my mom and I took Amtrak into the city a couple of times, and I'd always beg to sit in the dining car. It probably doesn't speak well for my palate, but I liked the food."
"Then it shouldn't be difficult to—" He stopped and shook his head. "Do you know I just realized I've never taken you out to dinner?" He looked down at her and frowned. "I've never taken you out anywhere. We've never had an actual date, Abby."
"We had lunch at Reggiano's."
"That doesn't count; it was business. In fact, almost every time we've been together it involved business."
He looked around for his suit coat and remembered he'd left it on the couch. "When I get back, I'm going to take you on a real date." He walked out of the room and she followed.
He put his briefcase down again when they were standing at the front door and drew her into his arms.
He lowered his head, brushing his mouth lightly over hers. "Think about me while I'm gone," he said against her lips right before savoring them one last time.
He jogged the two blocks to his car. He felt uncomfortable leaving her. He couldn't attribute the feeling. She'd seemed fine when he left. Her kisses had been as warm and sweet as always, but he'd sensed something. Maybe he'd imagined it. Maybe he just hadn't wanted to leave because he wouldn't see her again for several days.
He started the car and glanced in the rearview mirror. He backed up, forward, backed up again, forward again, backed up once more and eased out of the tight spot.
The last couple of weeks hadn't been easy. Between worrying about Riv One, staying in the loop with Chicago, and trying to nurture a relationship with Abby, he wasn't sure where he'd found the energy to keep going. And that was without the added pressure of Carpenter's murder investigation hanging over both their heads.
He hoped they were turning a corner on the investigation. Having Simms back off from Abby would be a huge relief to Gage's peace of mind.
If he could just hold everything else together for a couple of more weeks, the hellish schedule he'd had to maintain the last few months should ease up somewhat. The probe had been dropped. Brett was beginning to feel his way in Chicago, and Riv One was moving ahead on plan, or pretty damn close. Once things began to settle into a groove, he'd have more time to devote to Abby and could ratchet up his efforts to solidify their relationship.
"Just hang with me a couple of more weeks, green eyes," he said aloud as he maneuvered the car around a horse and carriage, "just a couple of weeks."
~~~
Abby lifted another section of wet hair away from her head with the brush and moved the hair dryer up and down as she blew it dry. She glanced at the clock on her bathroom wall. Gage was on his way to New York. This evening he would be flying home.
She turned off the dryer and dropped her hands. Home. He hadn't said he'd call her when he got to Chicago, or when he got in. He'd said he'd call her when he got home.
His life was in Chicago. She'd gone over all this in her head when she'd decided to grab the golden ring. She had no business feeling hurt. He'd never misled her with promises of a future. He gave her his present, and she'd accepted it for what it was. He hadn't asked if she wanted to go with him. Not that she'd have been able to just drop everything and hop on a plane with him, but he might have asked.
Was there a woman in Chicago who was a part of his present there? Someone who would welcome him back and drift to sleep in his strong arms and glory in the warmth of his seductive smiles until he had to leave again?
"This is ridiculous," she said out loud. She spun around and went into the bedroom to get dressed. He said he loved her. Why couldn't she believe it and trust him? He wasn't like Dick.
No, she thought, taking a pale green crepe suit from the closet, Gage would never tell her he loved her if he didn't mean it. It was her own insecurities making her doubt him when he'd given her no cause.
An hour later she walked into her office. There was a note on her desk to see Mr. Norwell as soon as she got in. Her phone started to ring and someone knocked on her door.
She looked up. "What's up, Madeline?"
"Mr. Norwell told me to send you to his office the minute you got here." She held up a couple of messages. "And Gage Faraday's secretary called twice in the last half hour. She said she needs to speak with you as soon as possible."
"Okay, thanks." Abby started to reach for the phone, wondering what was so urgent for everyone this morning.
"I think you might want to let that go into voice mail and go see him before he comes looking for you again. I'm afraid he's not in a very good mood."
"Is he ever in a very good mood?" Abby asked, but she took the woman's advice and came back around her desk to go pay a visit to her boss.
"Abby," Madeline said after Abby had started down the hall.
She turned and looked over her shoulder. "Yes?"
"For what it's worth, he was planning on making you a senior next month. He'd already filled out the paperwork."
That piece of information should have made her feel like doing cartwheels down the hall, but Madeline hadn't sounded cheerful, and Abby had a feeling her day had already reached its zenith and was about to start downhill.
Just wait until you know what he's got his shorts twisted in a knot over this time, she told herself. Despite Madeline's ominous tone, everything had been going so well with the Riv One account that Abby couldn't imagine Norwell being anything but thrilled with her performance.
The only other thing she could think was that it had something to do with Dick's murder. The police had been in
to talk with some of her coworkers, Norwell included. Although the press hadn't come right out and identified her as the primary suspect, they'd felt it necessary to inform the good people of Philadelphia that she and Dick had been recently divorced, and lest they forget, the senator's son had carried on several very public affairs.
Abby shook her head. Who cared? Didn't people have enough in their own lives to worry about? Who really gave a frick Dick had cheated on her? None of them were married to the bastard. Be kind. He's dead. Yeah, but it doesn't change anything.
"Mr. Norwell," she said, walking into his office, "Madeline said you wanted to see me."
Her boss picked up the paper from his desk. His puffy jowls looked blotchy, as if he had a nasty case of hives. They seemed to quiver with rage.
"You better have a damn good explanation for this, Carpenter."
Abby approached his desk, the palms of her hands started to sweat. Her breathing slowed. As she got closer she saw two photographs. In one, she was standing on the sidewalk outside her office building. Gage was standing next to her, looking down at her.
The other picture was harder to make out. It was of a car parked by the curb. There was a man and woman in the back seat. She drew nearer, looked closer. It was she and Gage. Kissing.
Her world began to spin. She swallowed as her eyes darted to the tag line in bold letters just below the photographs.
JUST BUSINESS?
Laughter burst in her chest, hysterical laughter that clogged the back of her throat in its mad rush for release. She couldn't let it loose. She was afraid if she did, she might not be able to stop. She'd laugh and laugh and laugh until it drove her completely mad.
~~~
Her day didn't go downhill. It rocketed to hell, and the devil's name was Harold Billings.
She had him to thank for bringing the article to Norwell's attention as soon as he'd arrived at the office, out of concern for the firm.
Concern my ass, she thought, fighting the pain that had settled in her left eye. Norwell probably would have seen it eventually, but it would have been nice if she'd seen it first. She might have had time to come up with something better than Damn them, are they everywhere?
A Murderous Game Page 21