Penmort Castle (Ghosts and Reincarnation #1)(58)

It was perfect. Expensive, timelessly stylish, sexy-yet-demure and, best of all, it would remind her of Ben.

“That’s it,” Abby announced.

“Thank God,” Jenny sighed.

“I still like the blue,” Mrs. Truman grumbled but it was too late. Abby had made her decision and she had to get a move on if she was going to be ready on time which she felt at that moment was a moral imperative.

Mrs. Truman and Jenny put away the clothes while Abby did her makeup in a new look, elegant with a bit of drama (the look she dubbed “Castle Chic”).

Mrs. Truman left to see to her dogs and Jenny did Abby’s hair using a curling iron to give her loads of curls then smoothing it all away from her face in a barrette at her nape that burst in a riot of curls down her back, all the while giving her an “it’s-just-a-job” pep talk.

Then Jenny left Abby alone with her cat Zee.

It was a quarter-to-six and Abby was nervous as hell.

But, importantly, she was ready.

She was in her bedroom transferring needed items into a small, mocha-coloured, patent leather clutch when she heard the bell at the door.

Her head shot up and she stared at her bedside clock.

It couldn’t be Cash. He couldn’t be early again, not tonight of all nights. She wasn’t yet mentally prepared to face him.

Abby left the clutch on her bed and ran down the stairs to see who it was and get them gone before Cash arrived.

Zee, having absented himself during the drama and ensuing clothes-fest, ran to the door with her, nearly tripping her twice.

Abby threw it open and stood frozen, staring at Cash.

One look at him and she knew that he wasn’t over the fight.

Not by a long shot.

Abby made a mental note for possible future reference that Cash Fraser could hold a mean grudge.

“You’re early,” she told him.

“Do they say that instead of ‘hello’ in America?” Cash returned, his dry words reminding her she was being rude and she immediately felt like an idiot.

“Sorry, come in,” Abby stepped out of the way, eyes to the floor, and prattled on, “I’m ready. I need two seconds. Wait here, I’ll be right back. I just have to go get my bag.”

Then she turned tail and ran, Zee running alongside her.

She darted to her room, realised she forgot her lip gloss, flew to her dressing table and grabbed it. In all this activity Zee decided to go away and come back later when Abby wasn’t in a tizzy.

She bent over the bed, shoving everything into her purse and snapping it shut. Then she straightened, turned to run downstairs and instead ran headlong into Cash.

Her body jerked back but his hands came to settle on her h*ps to hold her where she was.

She tilted her head to look at him, surprised he was there and opened her mouth to speak but he got there first.

“I see they aren’t finished with the bathroom,” he remarked.

Abby stared at him.

She didn’t know what to make of this. His handsome face was closed, his eyes cold and he looked remote. Abby knew, without knowing why she knew, that this meant he was angry.

Very angry.

Scary angry.

Yet his comment was bland.

And he was there. And he hadn’t yet fired her. Not that she’d given him a chance, but still.

“They say it’ll be done tomorrow,” Abby informed him.

Keen to get on with the evening and out of her bedroom, she started to move around him but his fingers tensed at her h*ps and she stopped.

Her head tipped back in question. “Cash, we should –”

He cut her off by saying, “A minute.”

She looked at him and his eyes held her captive as one of his hands moved lightly over her bottom.

“Cash, what are you –?” she started but he cut her off again.

“You’re wearing underwear,” he told her.

Abby’s breath froze in her lungs.

Oh dear Lord, she forgot about the underwear.

Then she felt her pulse beating in her neck.

“Cash –” she began.

“Take it off,” he ordered and she blinked in stunned surprise.

“What?” she breathed.

“Take them off,” he repeated.

Abby felt a thrill run up her spine and it wasn’t the usual thrill Cash gave her or at least not entirely.

In a pleading whisper, she begged, “Cash, please don’t make me –”

He interrupted her again, his voice patient but barely so, “Abby, take them off.”

Abby felt her spine go ramrod straight, thinking he couldn’t make her not wear underwear. And if he tried, he could have the damned bracelet back.

“No,” she replied, her voice had grown cold.

His head tilted to the side, something dangerous flashed in his eyes and he asked softly, “No?”

Being stupid (but brave, she told herself) in the face of obvious peril, Abby held her ground and repeated, “No.”

He gazed at her for a moment then two then he replied quietly, “All right Abby.”

She felt her body relax.

He’d given in. He wasn’t going to make her do something which made her uncomfortable. And she had the fleeting thought maybe it was all going to be okay.

She had this thought right before his head bent, his arms went around her tight and he kissed her.