‘I’ve made a lot of mistakes,’ she conceded, looking down at her clasped hands. ‘And I have to live with them. But you shouldn’t have to suffer for them, and for that I apologise.’ Briefly her eyes sought his. ‘I came here to tell you that Sebastian is doing what he feels necessary to protect us all financially, should Charles decide to call your bluff. So you don’t have to worry. Do what you need to do.’
The remorse in her tone left him reeling. ‘That’s … good to know.’
‘Good luck.’
A smile flickered but was quickly extinguished. Almost as if she was afraid to show emotion any more. Feeling a touch emotional himself, Doug leant across and kissed her cheek. ‘Thank you.’
Doug peered through the glass in the door to his father’s office and saw he was sitting behind his desk, as he was every Friday. ‘Don’t want to encourage an atmosphere of slacking off on a Friday,’ had been his explanation.
‘We need to talk,’ Doug announced, barging straight in without knocking. ‘More accurately, I need to talk and you need to listen.’
‘If this is about that blasted secretary of yours—’
‘It involves Abby, yes,’ he interrupted. ‘It also involves the threat you made to me when I was eighteen.’
Choosing not to sit, Doug walked to the desk and put his hands on the edge, just as he had a few days earlier when he’d almost strangled the son-of-a-bitch.
‘I’m hear to tell you to go ahead and announce that I’m not your son. Throw your wife and daughters out.’ He inched his head forward so they were almost nose to nose. ‘In fact, I’ll go one better than that. If you don’t bring Abby back I’m going to announce that not only am I the product of my mother’s affair, but the only reason I’m working at Crumbs is because you blackmailed me into it.’
Charles surged to his feet, gripping the desk in a mirror image to Doug’s stance. ‘Don’t you threaten me, boy.’
‘Oh, this isn’t a threat,’ Doug replied coldly, standing up to his full height. ‘It’s a promise.’
‘You think anyone will care what you have to say? You’re just the product of a meaningless fuck who I was gracious enough to take under my wing. I made you managing director to please my wife.’
‘You really think that will stick? That your wife will happily stand by what you say?’
‘She’ll say what I bloody well tell her to say,’ he thundered.
Doug stared at the man in front of him, feeling a surge of strength, of power. He’d been so terrified of him as a child, but actually he was nothing but an arrogant, blustering fool. Why hadn’t he realised this sooner? Why had he let him trample over him for so long? ‘I think you’ll find your days of ruling the roost are numbered, old man, though if you want to maintain that illusion, there is a way out for you. As long as you agree to my terms.’
His father slammed himself back onto his seat and laughed harshly. ‘Your terms?’
‘Yes. Before I take you through those, have a look at these sales figures from the last few months. What do you see?’
Charles didn’t bother to look. ‘I don’t need you to show me sales figures. I know exactly what’s happening in my company.’
‘Then you know that sales are up. In particular sales of three old brands you wanted to get rid off.’
‘Your point is?’
‘My point is that you wanted to sell them. It was Abby who saw their potential when nobody else did. She was also responsible for the change in packaging, which has since resulted in Crumbs being shortlisted for several design awards. Finally, she’s the mastermind behind the savoury range, hailed only last week as another Crumbs triumph.’
Doug took a sadistic delight in seeing his father go ashen in shock. ‘What do you hope to gain by telling me this?’
‘It isn’t what I hope to gain, but what you could gain. Invite Abby back to Crumbs not as a personal assistant, but as a management trainee. I’ll guide her as much as she needs. When she’s ready, you’ll give her a department to run. Director of Development and Innovation would be a good fit.’
‘That’s preposterous. I’ll never let that woman be a director in this company.’
‘Then you’re a bigger fool than I thought you were. Offer Abby the job and not only will I keep quiet, but the company your family built will continue to thrive. Don’t offer Abby the job in the next twenty-four hours and I’ll go to the press. I’m sure there will be quite a lot of interest in the twisted family life of Lord Faulkner.’
His father banged his fist on the table. ‘I won’t be threatened like this.’
A wave of calm descended on Doug and he actually found himself smiling. ‘Too late. It seems I did learn something from you, after all.’
He turned and headed for the door. For thirty years he’d let the man behind that desk treat him like shit. No longer.
From this moment on, Charles Faulkner had lost the power to interfere with his life.
Abby couldn’t sit still. Ever since Doug had texted to say he’d pick her up at 6.30 p.m. she’d been stalking round the house like a trapped animal trying to find a way out. Currently she was in the kitchen, watching as Mandy fed George.
‘Will you just sit down.’ Mandy gave her an exasperated glare. ‘You’re making me nervous. And why are you so jittery, anyway? It’s not like this is your first date. You’ve already slept with the guy.’
Mandy hadn’t bothered to lower her voice and over in the adjoining sitting room Abby could hear Ellie hissing to Holly. ‘See, I told you. That means Abby and Doug are lovers.’ It was followed by loud, unrestrained giggling.
Back in the kitchen Mandy bit her bottom lip, mouthed, ‘Oops,’ and tried to hold back her own laughter.
‘Thanks, Mandy. Always good to know I can rely on you to be discreet.’
‘Sorry.’ She didn’t look it. ‘So, you were telling me why you’re wound up like a spring, ready to bounce out of the door the moment your dashing escort arrives.’
‘I’m worried,’ Abby admitted quietly.
‘About what?’
‘About what will happen when he realises I’m not the pretty, insanely smart woman he’s kidded himself into believing I am.’
‘Abigail Spencer.’ Mandy took two giant paces towards her and gave her shoulders a none too gentle shake. ‘Stop thinking such rubbish.’
Before her sister could give her any further reassurance there was a knock on the door. Abby bolted towards it like a rabbit on speed, her heart hammering as she took in the sight of the handsome grey-suited man on her doorstep. ‘Hi.’
He smiled at her more with his eyes than his mouth. ‘Hi, yourself.’
‘How did it go? I’m all ready. I even packed an overnight bag so I wouldn’t have to come home tomorrow in tonight’s clothes, which should reduce some of the questioning.’ The words wouldn’t stop careering out of her mouth. ‘I hope that’s okay. Oh, and I made a fish pie for dinner.’ Her hands flapped towards the bags on the floor by the door, one holding the neatly wrapped pie. ‘I hope you like fish. And that you’re not allergic to seafood because I put some prawns in it and it would be an awful shame to spend tonight watching you sick it all up. Or worse, go all blotchy and I’d have to rush you to A&E.’
She’d run out of breath. As her body sucked much needed air back into her lungs she noticed that Doug’s smile had reached his mouth now, curving his sensuous lips. Cupping her face, he kissed her. Not the quick peck of a man greeting his girlfriend with her family just round the corner, but a deep, slow, wrench-the-ground-from-under-her sort of kiss.
When he finally let her go he traced a finger down her cheek. ‘Fine, I’d be disappointed if you hadn’t, I do and I’m not.’
‘Sorry?’
‘The answers to your questions.’
‘Oh.’ Embarrassed, she dropped her eyes down to the floor. ‘Sorry. When I’m excited or nervous I talk even more than usual. It’s probably going to really get on your nerves.’
‘You’ll never get on
my nerves, Abby. Never.’ His finger nudged her chin back up. ‘Please tell me you’re excited, not nervous?’
‘Yes, at least I’m far more excited than nervous but, well …’ She trailed off, annoyed with herself. Why couldn’t she be cool like his other women must have been? Like Geraldine must have been? ‘Sorry. This is all a bit new still. You know, dating the boss I fancied from day one.’
He smiled again, a hint of smug. ‘You did?’
She shook her head, laughing. ‘Of course I did. Have you taken a good look at yourself recently?’
‘I’d rather look at you.’ While her heart performed a series of neat somersaults he reached inside and grabbed the bags. ‘Do you need to say goodbye?’
‘No, I’m good. I did that half an hour ago, and then again ten minutes ago. I think they’re sick of me now.’
They settled into his car but Doug didn’t immediately turn on the engine. Much to her surprise he reached over and took her hand, bringing it to his lips and planting a gentle kiss on the palm.
Her insides melted. ‘What was that for? Not that I’m complaining.’ She shook her head for emphasis. ‘Nope, definitely not complaining.’
Still holding her hand he stared at her, as if trying to work out something. Whatever it was darkened his eyes. ‘You know sometimes when I look at you, my heart stops.’
‘Wow.’ She swallowed down the lump that had shot into her throat. ‘For a man who says he doesn’t do relationships, you’re really, really good at this.’ Tears started to prick and she had to work hard to stop them from falling. ‘Is that why you kept pushing me away? Because you were worried about it not starting again?’
He let go of her hand and started the car. ‘I kept pushing you away because I wasn’t the man you thought I was. You saw the managing director of Crumbs, heir of Lord Faulkner. That isn’t me.’
‘I saw a drop dead gorgeous guy with dazzling, yet kind eyes who looked like he could do with cheering up.’
He flicked her a glance loaded with promise. ‘I can guarantee whatever you’ve got planned to cheer me up, it’s going to work.’
The nerves slipped quietly away, though the excitement remained.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Abby woke slowly, stretching out her limbs, luxuriating in the knowledge that this was Sunday morning and, for once, she didn’t have to rush anywhere. Thanks to the surprising job offer from Crumbs three weeks ago she was now a working woman again. Not only that, she was a management trainee. She was still pinching herself but Doug had been remarkably calm about it all. ‘It’s only what you deserve,’ he’d told her in that quiet, patient voice of his.
It wasn’t so quiet or patient when they were alone in bed though.
Smiling at the thought, Abby lazily reached out her arm, expecting to connect with a naked male body like it had the previous few Sundays.
Instead she found a cool pillow.
Slipping off the bed she donned his dressing gown and headed downstairs towards the back of his house. The door to his studio was open and she paused, grabbing at the rare opportunity to watch him. The man she saw in the office, dressed in a formal suit, was so different to the man standing in front of the canvas, wearing a pair of tatty jeans and a paint-splattered grey shirt. The businessman was serious, controlled and flat. The artist was dynamic and energised, his body moving as one with his arm as he brushed paint onto the canvas.
Wanting to get closer, she tiptoed inside. Her arm knocked against a jar of paintbrushes on the nearby worktop, sending it crashing noisily onto the floor.
‘Oh God, I’m so clumsy. Sorry.’ Frantically she began to pick up the scattered brushes.
‘Leave them.’ He pulled her back up and kissed her soundly. ‘Good morning.’
Letting out a happy sigh, she rested her head on his chest. ‘Good morning to you, too. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just wanted to watch quietly for a bit but I guess Spencers don’t do quietly.’
She felt his chest rumble with silent laughter. ‘I’ve noticed that. You aren’t disturbing me though. I woke early and it was either paint or make love to you.’ His hand stroked her hair. ‘I wanted to do the second, but I figured you deserved a rest after last night so I came down here.’
She grinned, raising her head to look at him. ‘Last night was pretty amazing. What happened to the man who only did sex?’
Doug bent his head and planted a gentle kiss on her mouth. ‘You taught him how to make love.’
Emotion welled, making swallowing hard. ‘I must be a really great teacher then,’ she whispered. ‘Because he’s awesome and I can’t get enough of him.’
Doug’s arms tightened around her and suddenly she was being lifted up and carried down the hall. Letting out a squeal Abby flung her arms around his neck, inhaling turpentine and Doug. ‘Where are you taking me?’
‘Back to bed.’
‘But what about your painting?’
‘It can wait. I can’t.’
By the time Doug placed Abby on his bed, he was aching with need. He’d been so tempted to wake her up this morning when he’d studied her in the dawn light. So pretty, so sweet, so very, very special. He’d lightly kissed her temple but she’d been dead to the world and though his body had been crying out to take her, his conscience had told him he needed to let her sleep.
He’d always enjoyed sex, but what he’d found with Abby was more than sex … more than he’d ever dared hope for. It was no longer about physical release, but a primitive need to bury himself inside her, connect with her. Become one with her. And unlike physical release, where once had been enough, once with Abby only made him want her again. And again.
Quickly he stripped off his clothes and joined her on the bed where she instantly welcomed him, parting her legs to invite him in. He’d never felt so cherished, so wanted, in his whole life.
He set an easy rhythm, teasing them both until they needed more. Then he drove them home.
‘Stay,’ he whispered, drawing her against him as they both caught their breath. ‘Spend the day with me in bed.’
She sighed, her breath fluttering against his chest. ‘As appealing as that sounds, you know I can’t. I need to go home and see the girls.’ She raised her head. ‘We always have a roast dinner on a Sunday. Family tradition. Dad would blow the kitchen up if he tried cooking one.’
Doug made himself laugh. It wasn’t her fault he lived for the days he saw her. Much as he wanted to, he couldn’t expect to consume her, to take over. She still had her life to lead and he … well, he’d spend the day painting, like he always did. That New York gallery wouldn’t fill up by magic.
Her finger traced gentle circles over his chest. ‘Of course you could always join us, though I won’t blame you if the thought of spending an afternoon with my family has you pleading work and diving back into your studio.’
He felt his heart lift and swell, filling with an emotion he didn’t understand, though he had his suspicions. ‘I’d love that.’
She shifted so she could peer into his face. ‘Really? Do I need to remind you of the last meal you had with my lot? It was the BJJ competition and you spent a lot of time deflecting questions.’
‘I’m more prepared now. Besides, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a home cooked roast.’
Her dark eyes softened. ‘I can’t imagine you go home to your family very often.’
‘Not if I can help it, no.’
She ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it down, and Doug was hard pressed not to purr. He couldn’t hold back the quiet groan though, and her lips curved as she kissed him. ‘You like being touched, don’t you?’
‘I like anything you do to me.’
‘Is being touched like a home-cooked roast? Something you’ve not experienced very often?’
He shut his eyes, focusing on the soothing feel of her caress. ‘Yes,’ he admitted hoarsely.
‘Then we’ve got a lot of making up to do, haven’t we?’ Kissing his nose, she sat up and push
ed away the duvet. ‘And it starts today with my roast chicken.’
‘Oh no.’ He caught at her arm and tugged her back. ‘It starts now with the touching, which continues while we take a shower. After that we can get to the chicken.’
‘By then I think we’ll need it,’ Abby added dryly, though she didn’t object when he rolled her back underneath him.
If the Spencer family were surprised to have an extra person for dinner they didn’t show it. Doug didn’t think anything fazed them. They were so rowdy and chaotic that the arrival of an extra body didn’t seem to register. It was vastly different to Sunday meals with the Faulkners, though the number of people sitting round the table was pretty much the same. Here there was laughter and mickey taking, not long periods of silence interrupted by moments of painful conversation. The Spencers sat round the table because they wanted to be there, not through force of habit. They lingered after the meal, continuing to chat while they cleared up. Not fleeing to their rooms as soon as they could.
Doug attempted to take some plates to the kitchen but he was shooed away by Abby. ‘No. Guests aren’t allowed to clear up, house rules. Go and sit down and someone will bring you a coffee.’
‘I’ll do it,’ Sally announced, then flushed when Holly and Ellie both rolled their eyes at her.
As he’d never had anyone have a crush on him before, at least not someone so young, Doug wasn’t sure what to do. ‘Thank you. White, no sugar would be great.’ He smiled, hoping it came across as sincere but not flirtatious.
Abby watched the exchange with a knowing look and when Sally was out of earshot she whispered in his ear. ‘You’re doing just fine. When you’re sixteen, having a crush on a gorgeous male is perfectly normal. At least in Sally’s case the male is one I approve of.’
‘Thanks,’ he muttered dryly, ‘but hell, I don’t want to lead her on.’
‘You’re not. You wouldn’t. She doesn’t even want anything to happen. Just for you to carry on treating her as you are doing. Like somebody special.’ She gave him a searching look. ‘I can’t believe you’re so unused to female attention.’
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