Penmort Castle (Ghosts and Reincarnation #1)(99)

Or, more accurately, image-to-image, sound-to-sound and feeling-to-feeling.

She saw Cash sitting at the table in the pub the first time she laid eyes him, so handsome he took her breath away at the same time he scared her so much, she almost turned around and left.

She heard Cash’s deep, rich laughter that first time in his car after he met Mrs. Truman.

She heard his beautiful voice on the phone telling her he was thinking about their first, full-on kiss.

She felt his warm, strong hand on her neck.

She saw his eyes when he’d warned her she’d made a promise he was going to make her keep.

She saw him casually tossing her shoes across the room.

She felt the strange, moving, tender touch of his lips last night.

She heard his voice telling her they had all the time in the world.

Her hands came up and curled around the back of Jenny’s seat and she pleaded urgently, “Jenny, go faster.”

Jenny didn’t take her eyes from the road as she muttered softly, “I’ll get you there, honey.”

Mrs. Truman twisted toward Abby and her face, usually composed, sometimes angry, other times grouchy, was now filled with unhidden concern.

“Abigail, breathe,” Mrs. Truman ordered gently.

Abby’s eyes shifted to the older woman, her breath coming in short pants. “I am.”

Mrs. Truman shook her head. “Deep breaths, dear,” when Abby didn’t obey, Mrs. Truman repeated, “Deeply, Abby. Breathe deeply.”

Abby nodded and took in a deep, shuddering breath. Mrs. Truman watched her as she took in another one then another. Only when Abby’s breathing became controlled did Mrs. Truman turn back to the road and continue with her directions.

What felt like a year later, Jenny turned into the A&E entrance of Royal United Hospital and Abby released her seatbelt in preparation for exiting the car.

When she straightened from the belt, out the front window she saw Cash standing with a man outside the doors to A&E.

Standing. Eyes open. Body intact. There was no blood. There were no cuts. No gaping wounds. No bandages. No slings. No limbs in casts. No crutches.

Just tall, handsome, beautiful, breathing Cash.

Abby threw open the door the minute Jenny came to a halt. She shot out of the car and ran on her high-heeled shoes like she’d been told she had only one second to reach him, to get her hands on him or he’d disappear forever.

The man he was with saw her, his face registered surprise and Cash’s glance followed his. Abby watched Cash’s brows draw together as he saw her. He started approaching but stopped because Abby didn’t slow. He only had a moment to brace before she hit him, full-body, full-velocity, full-weight. On impact, his arms came around her and he went back on a foot.

“Abby, what on –” he started but Abby shoved her face in his neck and wrapped her arms so tightly around him she felt her muscles strain with the effort to hold on.

She felt Cash’s arms tighten as his voice murmured in her ear, “Darling, what’s happened?”

Abby didn’t get a chance to respond, not that she would have. Her mind was blank and she had no faculties left to her but the ability to hold on tight.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Mrs. Truman demanded from somewhere behind Abby.

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Abby heard Cash reply.

“She got a call. She was told you were in a car accident and at the hospital,” Jenny informed Cash and at her words Cash’s body went still but his arms constricted.

Then she heard him mutter a terse, “Fuck,” before he hesitated and she actually felt him forcing his body to relax before he called, “Abby.”

Abby didn’t move.

One of his arms still tight around her waist, the other hand came into her hair as he urged, “Darling, look at me.”

Abby still didn’t move.

He gave her hair a gentle tug. “Abby.”

Her head came back, she looked at him and the minute her eyes locked on his, hers filled with tears.

He saw it, his face went soft and he muttered, “Darling.”

“You’re all right,” she whispered, her voice sounding husky and choked but filled with blissful relief.

“I’m fine,” he murmured, his hand going from her hair to stroke her spine. “I wasn’t in an accident. Moira was.”

“Moira, who’s Moira?” Mrs. Truman wanted to know but Cash didn’t answer, his eyes were on Abby.

“Moira?” Abby asked.

“Yes, darling,” Cash told her.

Abby blinked, reality beginning to intrude, the black nightmare slowly edging away.

However, not enough for Abby to move even a centimetre away from Cash’s hard, warm, living body.

“Is she okay?” Abby queried.

“Banged up but they’re releasing her. We’d both just left the office. I was behind her when it happened. I stayed while we waited for the ambulance and then came to the hospital to wait until Glyn got here.” He shifted their bodies so she could see the man he’d been standing with. “This is her fiancé, Glyn.”

Abby’s eyes moved to the man, shorter than Cash by several inches, he was fair, blue-eyed and he looked a mixture of worried and stunned, the former for Moira, the latter, likely, at Abby’s behaviour.