‘I’m not sad. I miss her, that’s all. Miss the way she’d hug me for no reason, the way she’d listen when I rambled on about God knows what, looking so interested when really she must have been thinking get to the point, Abby, I’ve got a million things to do. I know that sounds soppy—’
‘It sounds incredible,’ he interrupted.
The tears began in earnest now, though not only for the memory of her mum. ‘That’s so wrong, you know. Every child should have at least one parent who loves and cherishes them. I’ve been lucky enough to have two.’
Meticulously he wiped at her cheek. ‘Please don’t tell me some of those tears are for me. I had a very privileged childhood. I lived in a grand house, went to an expensive school and had pretty much anything I wanted.’
‘Except love.’
He stilled. ‘Love isn’t a concept Faulkners understand.’
Abby was smart enough to know where he was going with that particular topic. ‘You’ve just told me you’re not a Faulkner,’ she pointed out.
‘I’ve grown up with them, Abby. Your family and mine couldn’t be more different.’ His blue gaze riveted on her. ‘We couldn’t be more different.’
Her heart, moments ago feeling so full, slowly started to shrivel. She slid off his lap, feeling gutted when he didn’t try to stop her. ‘I guess this is the part where you tell me the sex was great, but that’s all there’ll be.’
The warmth and closeness of a few minutes ago had been shattered. Now he was sitting in the chair as stiff as a board, staring at her with that reserved, highly disciplined expression she was coming to loathe. And not talking.
‘Fine. As I value myself too much to get locked into a meaningless relationship that only revolves around sex, I’ll be on my way.’ She’d taken two steps away from him before she remembered how she’d arrived. ‘Damn it, I can’t even storm out because I don’t have my car, which is your bloody fault. I’ll have to phone for a taxi but don’t worry, I’ll do it outside so we’re not in the same room for any longer than we need to be.’
Her words were met with a crashing silence.
Oh God, she was so stupid when it came to men. Scurrying into the kitchen she found her shoes where they’d been discarded while they’d been … he’d been … her heart faltered and she clutched at her chest. She’d already allowed him to take too much from her – her job, her body. She was damned if she was going to let him take her heart.
Grabbing her handbag off the kitchen stool she marched to the front door.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Doug remained in the armchair, his mind throwing down restraint after restraint, keeping him immobilised. Abby was blue skies and sunshine. She didn’t need a dark cloud like him in her life, dampening her spirit and blocking out the warmth. In time she’d thank him for this.
‘Oh shit.’
The sound of a hard clunk, quickly followed by an anguished exclamation, snapped him out of his paralysis and he dashed into the hallway. Abby was hanging onto the hat stand by the door, her foot caught in the tassels of the rug.
‘Here.’ He reached out to help but she swatted his hand away, as if she couldn’t bear him to touch her.
‘I’m fine.’
The coldness of her tone shocked him. He wanted to feel the heat of her anger; for her to shove at him, yell, slap him round the face. Anything instead of this … indifference.
‘That rug’s a death trap.’ She nodded to where she’d just pulled out her heel. ‘Make sure you warn the next woman you bring back to here to have sex.’
‘Jesus, Abby. I didn’t bring you here to have sex.’ Why was he just standing there, so gutless, so useless? Why wasn’t he on his damn knees, pleading with her to stay?
The look she threw him bordered on contempt. ‘It was more a spur of the moment thing, then? Abby’s upset because she’s lost her job. I know how to cheer her up. I’ll shag her.’
The sharp words tore through him, the trail they left so painful that for once, he spoke without thinking. ‘I brought you here to explain why I’m impotent where my father is concerned,’ he snapped. ‘And so you would understand why, despite the fact that you’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met, and I’m so damn attracted to you I can’t think straight when we’re in the same room, I have to keep pushing you away.’
She turned to face him, hair rioting around her face, her huge brown eyes looking like those of a confused Spaniel. ‘I know I’m only a PA, or at least I was one—’
‘Stop it,’ he barked, his anger rising. ‘I’ve never treated you like that.’
‘No.’ She glanced down at her feet. ‘So why do you need to push me away, if all you want is sex? Though I suppose there are plenty of women out there better at sex than me. If I had to make a guess, I’d say I’m only Brownie badge status.’ She winced, finally looking up at him. ‘And that sounds wildly inappropriate because unless things have changed radically in the last fifteen years, I doubt Brownies have a badge for sex.’
Her monologue was everything he found irresistible about her. Funny, honest, with a touch of crazy. Suddenly he knew he couldn’t let her go. Not when she was the only bright light in his world.
Walking up to her he loosened her fingers from the door handle, placing them on his chest so she could feel the pounding of his heart. With his other hand he cupped her face. ‘Stay. Please.’
She chewed at her bottom lip. ‘Why?’
‘When I said we couldn’t be more different, I was trying to warn you that I don’t know how to have a proper relationship. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to try.’
He pressed his lips gently to hers, hoping to convey at least some of what he was feeling.
‘In the past my relationships with women have only ever been about sex. It was an … outlet for me. A pleasurable means of working off a shitty mood. I don’t know if I’m capable of anything more.’
The hand on his chest moved to hold his. ‘Any man who lives through a loveless childhood yet still has the humanity to buy his ex-nanny a house and give a job to the dubious father of his crazy PA’s nephew, and for that matter give a job to his crazy PA in the first place, is capable of anything he puts his mind to.’
He tilted her face so he could stare into her eyes, afraid to hope. ‘Is that your way of telling me you’re prepared to give me a chance?’
‘No.’ The yellow handbag she’d been holding landed with a thud on the floor. Then, in front of his astonished eyes, she slipped off her shoes and unzipped her dress, inching it over her hips with an unconsciously sexy movement. That was until the zip caught on her underwear and she let out a muffled curse. ‘This was supposed to be my way of telling you.’ She craned her neck to glance behind her then looked at him despairingly. ‘But the flaming zip is stuck and now I’m stood half undressed in your hallway and feeling like an out of practice hooker.’
He couldn’t help himself. The relief, the joy, the fact that she looked so bloody adorable. He started to laugh.
‘Are you going to help me?’ She shot him a deadly look, one that promised all sorts of payback when she wasn’t caught up in her underwear.
‘I might. If you make it worth my while.’
‘That’s what I was trying to do, though clearly even my Brownie badge will need to be handed back now.’
She gave up pulling the dress down and wriggled it over her head instead. Once she’d dropped it on the floor she unclipped her bra and stood naked in front of him.
Doug stopped laughing. ‘Christ, you’re stunning,’ he croaked. ‘You don’t just take my breath away, you suck it all from me.’
‘Really?’
He allowed himself the luxury of tracing the soft curves of her breast with his finger. ‘Really,’ he affirmed, dipping his head to lick at one exquisite breast.
Her body trembled at his touch. ‘I hope you’ve got enough breath left to carry me upstairs, because I’d like a bed this time.’
Abby had guessed which was Doug’s bedroom
when she’d snooped around earlier. Not because there were any personal effects on the highly polished mahogany drawers, or any clothes draped over the big antique armchair, but because it smelt of him.
He lowered her gently onto the immaculately made bed before sitting on the edge, his blue eyes burning with intent. ‘I want to do it right this time.’
Self-consciously she nodded at her naked body and then over to his fully clothed one. ‘If doing it right means you keep your clothes on, I’m going to put in a strong objection.’
Immediately he stood, shrugging off his clothes in about the same time it took her to take off her shoes. There was no show, no posturing, just a quiet dedication to the task. ‘Better?’
The bed dipped and she watched in awe as he climbed over to her, the muscles of his chest rippling beneath his lightly tanned skin. Clearly grappling men on the floor was good for muscle definition. Supporting his head on his hand he lay alongside her, easing one of his legs between hers. Wiry hairs tickled the inside of her thighs, but then she turned to look at him and the only thing she could feel was heat.
‘When I said I want to do this right,’ he continued, eyes fixed on hers, ‘I meant I don’t just want to have sex with you. I want to show you how much you mean to me.’
‘Oh.’ Suddenly her mouth was bone dry, her heart pounding. This was really happening. Ten minutes ago she thought she’d lost him forever and now she was on his bed. ‘I’d like that. As long as what I mean to you is something … good.’
His reply was to trail soft kisses over her heated skin, starting at her face before spending a sinful amount of time around her central erogenous zones. By the time he crawled back up to her, lust blazing in his stunning blue orbs, she was panting.
‘How am I doing so far?’ The huskiness of his voice sent another ripple of desire through her.
‘Pretty well.’
He cocked an eyebrow. ‘Pretty well?’
‘I don’t want to praise too much, too early. You need to have something to aim for.’
He chuckled, his breath fluttering across her skin, but then he bent to kiss her and all the playfulness disappeared. His mouth sought hers with a renewed urgency and it wasn’t long before he was entering her again, his body claiming her in one strong thrust.
‘Abby,’ he groaned as his hips began to drive into her.
She was pinned beneath his hard body as he plunged into her at a punishing pace, far removed from the slow, languorous love-making she’d been used to with Toby. That had felt like being lapped by the gentle waves of a calm Caribbean sea. This felt like being tossed into the middle of a storm, leaving her helpless, unable to hold onto anything. Yet it was without fear, and with heat, not cold. Storm was the wrong word, too, because this feeling was more electric; a raw energy surging through her, making her feel desirable, invincible. And the pleasure – it was like nothing she’d ever experienced, coiling inside her, tightening with every hard thrust until she thought she couldn’t stand it any more.
‘Doug. It’s too much. I can’t … oh God.’ He continued to pound into her until she felt like she was drowning in feeling. Moments later, she shattered.
Following a few more thrusts, Doug’s powerful body stiffened and collapsed on top of her.
For a few precious seconds she savoured the solid weight of him, the heavy thump of his heart as it beat against her chest. The heat radiating off his skin, surrounding her in him.
All too quickly he rolled off her, eyes staring up at the ceiling as he lay on his back.
Just as she turned to ask him what was wrong he jumped off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Doug disposed of the condom and then, arms resting on the sink, stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He didn’t look like an aggressive man, but looks could be deceptive.
Fuck. He’d told Abby he’d show her how much she meant to him, then taken her like an animal in heat. Trouble was, he was used to women who were sexually aggressive. The type who, like him, saw sex as an outlet rather than an intimacy.
Abby wasn’t that type.
There was a tap on the door. ‘Doug? Are you okay?’
His chest tightened painfully and he hung his head, cursing again. He didn’t want to go out there and face the concern he knew he’d see on her face.
‘I’m fine.’ He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. In and out, in and out. Finally he tugged a towel off the rail and wrapped it round his waist because God, he couldn’t face this naked, and walked back out to the bedroom.
Abby was sitting on the edge of the bed, her body dwarfed by a dressing gown she must have taken from the back of his door.
‘What’s happening?’ she asked. ‘One minute I’m having the best sex of my life, the next the man I thought was enjoying it with me has stalked off to the bathroom.’ Her eyes scanned his face. ‘And come out with an expression on his face more suited to a dentist waiting room than a bedroom.’
‘The best sex of your life.’ He shook his head. ‘Abby, how many men have you slept with?’
Her eyes darted away from his and onto the floor. ‘Three.’
‘Three including me?’ When she nodded, he let out a short laugh. ‘So the best sex of your life isn’t based on very much then, is it?’
Her eyes flew to his face. ‘Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to sully what, to me at least, was something special, though obviously I don’t know anything because I’m just a naïve little girl who’s only mustered three sexual partners. One took my virginity then didn’t touch me again, one stayed with me for six months before finding someone better. You’ve managed sex with me twice.’
Her voice caught on her last words and Doug realised with horror that in his disgust with himself he was doing the one thing he’d been desperately trying to avoid. Hurt her.
Rushing over to the bed he took hold of her hands, gripping them when she tried to resist. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.’
She stared at him incredulously. ‘Seconds after coming inside me you roll away and shut yourself in the bathroom. How did you think I’d react?’
Tears rushed down her cheeks and Doug felt wretched. He tried to hug her but she was stiff in his arms, all that joy, that exuberance, gone. Thanks to him. ‘This is what I keep trying to tell you, Abby. I’m not relationship material. I’ll end up hurting you.’
She jumped to her feet. ‘Bollocks. You were doing just fine until you rolled away from me. Why, Doug?’ When he didn’t reply she pushed her face right into his, forcing him to look at her. ‘Why did you turn away from me?’
‘I thought I’d hurt you,’ he replied tightly. ‘You said it was too much and I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.’
‘I said that because it felt so amazing. That must have happened to you before.’
He leant forward and rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hands. ‘Yes, but not with someone like you.’
‘Like me?’
Her eyes were huge in her face, her blonde hair a tangle over his too-large dressing gown. She looked so sexy, yet so sweet. Something inside him snapped. ‘Yes, someone like you. Someone unique, someone special. You deserve a man who’ll treat you like a princess and shower you with love. Not an emotional screw up like me.’
Her eyes flashed. ‘Don’t say that about yourself.’
He took in a deep breath, fighting for his calm, feeling like a rowing boat pitching about on choppy waters, desperate to make its way back to harbour. ‘I’ve been angry for so long I don’t know how else to be. The only way I can keep it in check is by fighting and meaningless sex.’ His eyes held hers. ‘Now tell me I’m not a screw up.’
‘You’re not a screw up.’
Her inability to see him for what he was stirred the anger he was trying so damn hard to contain. ‘You don’t think it’s screwed up to punch my father so hard I knocked him out?’ he demanded roughly, pushing himself up.
Her face paled.
‘Oh, Doug.’
He couldn’t stand to see the horror in her eyes so he deliberately turned his back on her, walking towards the door where he placed a hand on either side of the frame, dragging air into his lungs, his chest so tight it was strangling the oxygen from him. He needed Abby to leave so he could lick his wounds. He needed a damn punchbag so he could get rid of some of the angst churning in his gut.
Suddenly he felt her hand on his bare back, her small frame beside him, pushing herself into his personal space. ‘How old were you when you hit your father?’
He turned to look at her. ‘Nineteen. Old enough to know better.’
‘Why did you hit him?’
Doug exhaled slowly, fighting for the control he wished he’d had back then. ‘He was threatening my mother.’ Her lips parted, ready to speak, but he cut her off. ‘That’s all it was. A threat. I don’t know if he’d have actually hit her.’
‘So it would have been better to watch him hit your mum first and then punch him, would it?’
‘Jesus.’ He rubbed at his face, his mind flashing back to the moment when his father, face red, veins on his neck pulsing with anger, had waved a clenched fist at his terrified mother. ‘No.’
‘So why was protecting your mum so wrong?’
‘It wasn’t. What was wrong was punching the lights out of my father, leaving him sprawled on the floor, knocked out cold, when I should have just restrained him.’ He shuddered, reliving the moment he’d come home from university for some stuffy do of his mother’s, only to find his parents having a flaming row in the study. He’d heard them argue before – and wasn’t that an understatement – but this had sounded different. There’d been more menace to his father’s words.
At least that’s what he’d told himself, but now he wondered if he’d made it up to justify his following actions. Justify assuming that the raised fist he’d seen his father wave at his mother had held a real threat.
Justify landing the first punch on his father’s jaw. Followed by the second. And the third. After which he’d watched in terror as the old man had crumpled, falling to the floor with a thud. He could still remember the rush of relief at finding he hadn’t killed him, that his father was still breathing. Quickly drowned out by the horror of realising what he’d done.
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