Penmort Castle (Ghosts and Reincarnation #1)(48)

“Cash, please,” she whispered in his ear, her voice back to soft, sweet and effective as her hands moved on him and he felt another strong surge of desire.

“Abby,” he said against her skin.

Both her hands moved into his hair and she held it in gentle fists as her head twisted and her mouth moved to his.

“It’s my house,” she whispered there, “my responsibility, my mess. I have to take care of it on my own this time.”

The words “my mess” and “this time” registered in his brain for a brief moment before she kissed him, her tongue touching his and she moved in his lap to straddle him.

Then nothing was in his head but the scent of her.

She wanted him, he could smell it.

His mouth moved to her jaw, down her neck, to her chest and as he pressed his hands between her shoulder blades to arch her back, he found himself agreeing, “All right, darling.”

Then his lips closed around her nipple and he sucked in hard, hearing her soft moan as he did it.

Shortly after, when he had her on her back, him on top, his clothes were gone and his mouth was moving down her chest, between the valley of her br**sts, down her belly, Cash dimly realised three things.

He was, for the first time he could remember, going to be late for a meeting.

And he had, for the first time he could remember, relented on something he fully intended to do.

And he didn’t give a f**k about either.

Then his hands spread her legs and he tasted her.

When his mouth touched her, he heard her gentle, rasping sigh, his mind erased and he thought about nothing except Abby.

Chapter Eleven

The Fight

Abigail Butler was in a tizzy.

No, that wasn’t correct, she was in three tizzies.

Firstly, and probably least importantly (but at that particular moment, it was the one that was most flipping her out), she had no clue what to wear to dinner with Cash’s family that night at Penmort Castle.

Abby’s Mom was English and growing up Abby had spent most of her vacations in England. After Abby married, she and Ben came to visit Gram as often as they could. There was also the fact that she’d lived there for over a year. And England, being England, had its fair share of castles.

Therefore Abby had seen a great number of them. She’d even visited several. Some of which had given tours.

She had, however, never eaten dinner in one of them.

And therefore she had no earthly clue what to wear.

The second tizzy was caused by the distressing phone call she’d received that day from a friend of hers in DC.

Abby, being tremendously stupid, hadn’t thought about what people she knew would think if they saw pictures of her and Cash in the press.

In fact, it hadn’t even crossed her mind.

But then Lori phoned from DC, breathless and excited to hear Abby’s spectacular news; news about the new man in her life; news about the new man in her life who happened to be a Famous, Super-Sexy, International Industrial Spy Hunter. And lastly, news that Lori felt entitled to seeing as she was Abby’s friend.

This distressing phone call had the disturbing information that Lori had seen a photo of Cash unsuccessfully shielding Abby from the camera while letting them into his house the night of their moonlit stroll in Bath.

Abby’s luck, indisputably bad, meant that Lori didn’t see a picture of them walking or talking or eating dinner.

No.

It had to be a photo of them at night, Cash protecting her gallantly from the camera’s glare while letting them into his home. It had to be a photo that served Cash’s purpose, showing the world that they’d already passed “the first part” (the casual-dating, getting-to-know-you part) and were well into “the second part” (the not-casual-at-all, spending-the-night, clearly-lovers part).

Lori had been in throes of ecstasy about the very idea of Abby with famous, wealthy, unbelievably gorgeous Cash Fraser. But what made matters worse was that she was beyond thrilled that Abby had “finally moved on” from Ben and was clearly starting the next, exciting chapter in her life.

Abby didn’t know what to say. In fact, she didn’t even know what to feel.

In a lucky twist, she didn’t have to say much of anything since Lori would not shut up.

Which brought Abby to her last tizzy.

The Tizzy to end all Tizzies.

That morning she and Cash had had a fight.

Not just a fight but a rip-roaring, voices-raised, unpleasant-words-spoken clash.

She should not, she figured, be fighting with her client. She reckoned most experienced escorts avoided doing that.

But it had happened.

And now she was both angry and worried.

Angry at what Cash had said though, if she was honest with herself (which she found excruciatingly difficult to be at that juncture), none of it was untrue. And angry with herself for feeling anything at all.

And worried about so many things she couldn’t count them all.

She didn’t like to fight with anyone and she found that fighting with Cash hurt. It hurt a lot. And their fight had been ugly and she’d caused it, so that made it hurt more.

She also worried that they wouldn’t get passed this even though they had to carry on with their arrangement.

And she worried what it meant that she felt too much, way too much, for Cash.

Enough to get in a passionate verbal battle in the first place much less feel the hurt after it had happened and further to feel pain that the reason it happened was because she may have wounded him.