Double Dare (21 page)

I'm in love with her, that's why
. The truth hit him hard and fast. There was no denying it. And the cage of circumstance was closing tight around his heart.

* * * *

Fitzsimmons slammed down the hammer and pointed at her. Abby was delighted. She had won the castle for her client. She smiled to herself, thrilled to bits.

The guy who had been bidding against her glared across at her. She tucked her identification card under the clip on her clipboard to distract herself from his expression. Despite her pleasure at winning, something was niggling at her. She felt uneasy. He was sending daggers, that's what it was. She took another glance and when she did she saw him storming off, his phone slammed shut in his hand. Her clipboard fell off her lap and she had to bend to retrieve it. The person seated behind her rescued it and passed it through the chairs.

Turning to say thank you, she caught sight of her opponent moving fast through the crowd at the back of the hall—and there too, she thought she saw a glimpse of another much more familiar face.
Zac
?

She froze, blinked, and looked again. The flash of black hair disappeared into the crowd. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be in Paris. Her blood ran cold. Was he following her? She turned back into her seat, clutching her clipboard to her chest, her heart running an erratic race.
It can't have been him. I'm mistaken. It was someone else
.

It looked like him though. It didn't make any sense. He said he'd be in Paris today. He hadn't said what time, but what would he be doing here? How would he know?
Unless...unless he's following me.

Her hands were shaking by the time she gathered herself enough to leave her seat and approach the auctioneer's assistant at the side of the hall, to go through the payment details for the property. She could barely think straight. Zac was a mystery man, yes, but she'd never felt as if there was a reason to be afraid of him, not until now.

When she left the building her mind was in chaos with questions. She recalled that feeling of being watched before, a sense of awareness that someone was taking an interest in what she was doing. She darted to the edge of the pavement and hailed a taxi.

By the time she got back into the office, she'd got herself well and truly spooked.
Stay calm
. She was adding things up wrong, had to be. She'd know if there was something dodgy about Zac, surely? She'd felt so close to him. She would know. It was just someone who looked like him. Yes, she'd felt odd recently, like she was being watched, but there had to be an explanation.

In the reception, Suzanne was talking to two clients seated in the waiting area. She nodded discreetly when she saw Abby waiting for her at the desk, winding up her chat.

"What can I do for you?"

"This is going to sound odd, but did that guy you're seeing mention the name of the courier company they work for?"

"Not that I remember, why?"

"Neither did Zac. I just..." She looked at Suzanne's face, her happy expression. She couldn't bring herself to cast a shadow on her happiness. That would just be cruel. She didn't even know for sure it had been Zac. She shook herself. "Oh, I just wondered."

Suzanne gave her a concerned look. "Are you okay?"

"Well, kind of." She really needed a friend, but maybe Suzanne wasn't the right person, not if she was getting involved with this courier guy. She'd give Marcy a call.

"Excuse me, Abigail?"

Hearing her name, Abby turned to see Tom's PA sauntering toward her.

"Tom says can you drop in to his office as soon as possible."

Abby nodded. "Will do."

"Ew, that doesn't sound good," Suz commented when the PA had gone.

Abby shrugged. "No." Usually he visited the staff on their own territory, unless it was something important or confidential. This was the last thing she needed right now. "He's been a bit...protective, since I've taken over Ed's work," she explained, with a decidedly charitable view of Tom's interest in her. "I suppose I better get it over with."

Suzanne gave a concerned frown and squeezed her arm affectionately. "Good luck."

Dropping her paperwork on her desk as she passed by her office, she went straight on to his door.

"Abigail, thank you for stopping by so promptly." Tom stood up from behind his desk and gestured at the low easy chairs that were set to one side of the large room, around a coffee table.

She glanced at the view as she took her place. Tom's office occupied the cornerstone of the floor, a suitable spot for their leader. With floor to ceiling glass and dual aspect, the view extended over the city to the left and to the right-hand side toward the river and beyond. On a clear day, it was said that he could see practically all of London, right out along the Thames.

She sank down into the soft Italian leather easy chair, smoothing her dress down over her thighs as she did so. She was aware of Tom watching as she took her place. She hoped he wasn't going to try to get cozy on her again. Adopting what she considered a tidy pose—knees together, ankles crossed just above the straps on her sandals—she rested her hands loosely over the arms of the chair.

"I thought we should have a chat about your work." He walked over to the drinks cabinet. "Would you like a drink?"

"No, thank you."

He poured himself out a large measure of whisky and strolled over to sit next to her.

It struck her as odd that he was drinking spirits at this time of day, but part of her thought she could probably do with a swig herself, to steady her nerves.

His immaculate shirt and tie gleamed in the bright sunshine. He was so well groomed that he looked rather artificial.

"I've been watching you closely over the past few days." He wasn't actually looking at her as he spoke. He was focused on the heavy crystal tumbler that he turned in small circles, making invisible patterns on the marble-topped coffee table in front of him.

Watching me
? She felt a chill come over her, above and beyond that of the air-conditioning. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. "What do you mean?" She tried to keep any defensiveness out of her voice, but in her current state of mind it was difficult.

"I'm taking a special interest in you. You must know that by now." He polished his comment with a smile. "I saw that you were attending the auction house when I was checking your targets on the network. I had to come down, just to see how you did."

A mixture of anger and sheer relief hit her. It wasn't Zac she had to be worried about, it was her bloody boss! She stared at Tom, weighing him up.
Keep calm
. She prided herself on remaining professional, no matter what the circumstances. "You were there?" How could he observe her without announcing his intention to do so?

Tom nodded and gave a quiet chuckle, still avoiding eye contact. "It was a great performance." He shifted in his seat.

Her fingers tightened over the arms of the chair. He'd been watching her. He'd been the one making her feel uneasy.
Not Zac
. Her heart beat out a triumphant tattoo.

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to be there?"

"No need."

In that case, why are you telling me now, you creep
?

"The important thing is that I am around and available. You've had a lot of extra responsibility and I wouldn't dream of letting you cope alone." He glanced at her, clearly trying to gauge her reaction. "Last week, I told you I was there for you, but so far you haven't called on me." The last comment had a chastising tone to it.

"Things have been proceeding well."

He ignored that. "You do know I care about you, Abby, don't you?"

She fought against gritted teeth to speak. "I'm sure you care about all your staff," she responded coolly, her skin crawling. She tapped her fingers on the chair arm. The leather, mercifully silent, did not betray her annoyance. Her mind raced with the dismal immediate options that faced her. She could hardly confront him and tell him his so called 'care' and interest was akin to being stalked, but at the same time, she wanted this over with. He was clearly abusing his authority to mask another purpose.

He looked at her over the edge of his glass as he took another swig.

She waited to see what he would say next.

His smile held unwelcome fondness. "I think we both know how well you've been doing, but I felt we needed to discuss it in more casual circumstances." His pause was deliberate. "I was disappointed you didn't take me up on my lunch invitation after your good work on the stock exchange."

She felt herself flushing with annoyance and bit the inside of her lip in an effort to keep calm. She gave what she hoped was a cool nod in acknowledgement of his remark.

"In fact, I have been wondering if you wouldn't have been a better choice for the Pascal account. I feel quite sure you would have had it well in hand by now." He cradled his drink.

She gripped the arms of the chair. How the hell was she going to deal with the situation? It was difficult, the options were few and the pitfalls many.

"But then you would have been in Geneva for much the time...and I wouldn't have wanted that."

His intimate look made her stomach ball. Even though she had never given him any encouragement, or shown any signs of interest in a relationship with him, he had made certain assumptions about her.

She decided that evasive tactics were the best strategy. "There's always a certain element of chance, of luck, involved in these matters. I was lucky to have been assigned the Ashburn Portfolio. However, if you thought I could contribute to the Pascal account, I would be willing to join the team out there, for the benefit of the company." She had no intention of going anywhere further than Paris, in the near future. She was calling his bluff with one of her own.

"Quite so." His expression was tight. He'd obviously realized it wasn't going to be as easy as he'd originally thought.

Taking up the initiative, she attempted to redirect the conversation. "Incidentally, I've received a request for the end of contract meeting to be brought forward a week. I was surprised by that...I was somewhat concerned about my property investment, but seeing as you were there and let me go ahead with it...have you any comment?"

Shaking his head, he looked down at his glass. He spoke slowly as if he was thinking of something else, perhaps planning his next maneuver.

"No. Most clients tend to make a noise when they are displeased, and Adrianna's been quiet since you've been in charge." He gave her a quick smile.

"Good," she said.

"I'm aware of the revised date." He glanced up at her. "They want all the relevant staff to be present, myself included." He dismissed the subject wit a gesture of his hand. "Nothing for you to worry your head about." His tone, no doubt meant to be friendly, was unbearably patronizing.

She nodded, curtly.
Now what
?

He put his glass on the table. "I notice you haven't made any flying visits to Geneva, to be with Ed." His voice was low, intimate.

Aside from annoyance at his assumption about her and Ed, he was again treading a dangerous path into personal territory. And yet she didn't want to deny there was anything going on between her and Ed, in case he took that as some sort of green light.
Dear god, how could he put a member of staff in such a position
?

"Is there any particular reason for that, Abby?" He was staring directly at her as he urged her again. This was going to be her telling moment. It struck her how distorted this was. He was verging on sexual harassment.

She kept her look cool, distant. "The account I'm working on at the moment has to be my priority within the Robertson group. Personal matters—of any sort—should not intrude on the work one does."

He stared at her then nodded lightly, his expression frozen, revealing nothing. This was like a business negotiation to him.

"I'm glad you feel that loyalty to your work." He sat back in his chair. "Perhaps when the Ashburn Portfolio has passed the trial period and we have persuaded them to renew the contract, we can all take a breather and relax a bit more?" He gave her a questioning look, a slight hint of annoyance in his expression.