Double Dare (24 page)

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Authors: Saskia Walker

BOOK: Double Dare
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Caroline laughed too and abandoned the rowing machine.

They went to a cafe that seemed to be placed strategically next to the gym, to tempt people from their path with the pastries in the window.

"I'll have to get to the office soon," Abby said, glancing at her watch. "I'm expecting the architect to phone. He's visiting the site early this morning and said he'd call me right away."

Caroline looked startled. "Good grief, I didn't think you would be able to get somebody to go out there this quickly."

Abby smiled. "I think it was a tempting project for him, and I didn't want to waste a minute on this one." Her mind drifted then she added, "If something's worth doing, then do it and enjoy. That's my motto."

Caroline sat back in her chair and looked at her with a curious glance. "What is it about you, Abby? You've been different recently."

Abby scooped up the last of her Danish pastry. "I'm enjoying life, that's all," she replied. It was the simple truth.

* * * *

Zac stood by the window in his hotel room, sipping his breakfast coffee in the morning sunshine. It was going to be another hot day. He had a lot to do, but all he could think about was Abby's arrival. It was as if she had planted a deep sense of yearning inside him, one that he couldn't shake. You're well and truly hooked, face it.

He picked up his phone and read the text message she'd sent him the night before, smiling.

Soon. I want you so much. Let it be soon. Abby
.

He set the phone down and looked around the room, hoping that she would like the suite. He wanted them to share a weekend that she would always remember, no matter what happened on Monday. He strolled toward the dressing table and glanced down at the box he had placed there. He had procured her two gifts. A small token of his feelings for her, and something that he hoped would fulfill her secret fantasies of being watched. He'd got so turned on when she'd confessed about her desire to be watched, just thinking about it now made him hard.

He shook his head, smiling wryly. "Abigail Douglas, you're a downright liability."

* * * *

The architect phoned shortly after Abby got to her office. He was a keen energetic sort. She'd read about his work for other restoration projects throughout Ireland and thought he sounded a likely candidate. His reactions on visiting the site reassured her that he was the man for the job. He was as fired up by the proposals as she was. She asked him to describe the place to her. His lilting Irish accent and heavily descriptive words about the castle floated her across the sea to the romantic haven.

"Tell me, do they get much snow there in the winter?" She tried to keep her voice as professional as possible.

"Snow?" He sounded unsure how to reply, as if he was afraid that it would go against the project if he said the wrong thing.

"I'm sorry. Castle in the snow, it's just an image I have. It's personal, not really important."

The architect sounded relieved. "Yes, there's usually a few smatterings of snow in the early part of the year, through to the spring."

Abby took a moment to enjoy the thought of it before she picked up the list of questions she wanted to run through with him, and transferred herself into a more business like mood.

After the call, she found herself trying to remember what her life had been like just a couple of weeks before. She'd become more adventurous at work, and in her private life. The sensual aspect of her nature had only been partially formed two weeks back. It had been fully realized through her union with Zac. He had somehow freed her and enabled her to explore that side of herself. She smiled out at the London skyline.

"The cat who has got the cream," she whispered to herself.

She spent the early afternoon updating the accounts constantly and completed her summary report on the investment portfolio, one eye on the clock. She was striving to complete her duties and reach her goals, but she knew deep inside that the desire for completion was an extension of the desire for fulfillment in her private life. She wanted the sense of physical realization that pervaded her other life, she wanted the clarity she felt when she was with Zac, the heightened awareness of every living breathing moment that he brought to her with his presence.

By mid afternoon she'd got the documentation finished. The meeting was scheduled for first thing on Monday and she'd laid the ground for the presentation that she was going to give on their work with the account. She was pleased with it, despite the truncated time she'd had on the account. She had more than proved her value. She picked up her weekend bag and got ready to leave the office for the airport. Now for her personal reward: Paris, and Zac.

As she passed down the corridor she heard a sound from Ed's office and paused outside the door. He must have made it back for the weekend. She tapped lightly, opened the door and walked in. As she did, her footsteps ground to a halt. Ed was there, and so was Penny. She was sitting on the desk, her skirt around her waist, her thighs spread. Ed was sitting in front of her looking at her crotch with wide eyes, his fingers probing, like a schoolboy carrying out an experiment over a Bunsen burner.

Abby bit back the rising laughter. The litmus paper must have been turning blue, by the look on his face. Penny looked completely ridiculous. Her jacket had fallen backwards and the sharply angled shoulder pads stood out on her back like twin humps. It was a travesty, seeing a sexual act performed with such a lack of grace.

They both turned at the sound of the intrusion and Ed's mouth fell open.

Abby turned on her heels immediately and walked out, shutting the door quietly behind her. She darted past the reception—luckily for her empty, because she was beginning to chuckle aloud—and headed for the elevator. When she was safely inside it and the doors shut, she dropped her bag and leaned back against the wall, thankfully alone. Even as she walked from the building she had to quell her amusement. She could finally stop worrying about Ed assuming they were more than friends.

She hailed a taxi and as she got in, she realized that she probably would have noticed something between Ed and Penny earlier on, if she hadn't been so distracted. Ed had been different, he hadn't been pursuing her as usual, but she hadn't taken it into her consciousness fully.

"Heathrow airport," she said to the driver and settled back into the seat just as her phone bleeped.

It was Ed.

"What is it, Ed? I'm just on my way out of town."

"I'm sorry, Abby."

"No, I'm sorry I interrupted. I didn't know"

He mumbled into the receiver, his tone shameful. Poor Ed.

She pressed her lips together then let out a hopefully sympathetic sounding sigh. She didn't want to hurt him by being too glad, even though he'd clearly moved on. She adopted a comforting tone. "Listen, Ed, it doesn't matter, really, we are friends and we always will be. I'm glad you've got someone and that you're happy."

"But I..."

But what
? "I can't talk right now, let's just let it go."

"Monday, can we talk on Monday?" He was still pushing to discuss it for some reason.

Monday
? She'd shelved Monday for the time being. All she could think about now was the weekend. Nothing seemed to exist past that point on the horizon.

She agreed for the sake of peace, hung up and dropped her phone in her bag. As she did, she noticed the black calling card for The Hub that Zac had given her, lying there in the bottom of her bag. She lifted it and moved it in her hand, watching as the eye winked at her and lured her in. It zapped her with its electric stare each time she turned it.

She remembered their first encounter in the elevator, the electric connection between them, intimate, intensely sexual. Then at The Hub. His arms around her had arrested her life forever. She'd been released into a new realm of experiences through the union of their bodies. Things would never be the same. Working with the Robertson group was over too. She had come to a new departure, no matter what.

She felt like she could fly to Paris on her own wings. Would Zac be part of her future? She hoped so. It might have felt like a secret affair at first, but it wasn't really. It was a turning point.

Chapter Eleven

Abby strode out of the Charles de Gaulle airport terminal building and waved for a taxi. She gave the driver the address and rested back into the seat as the car covered the ground between the airport and the center of Paris.

Anticipation pumped through her veins. Her nerve endings were reaching out for Zac. They didn't need to be awoken. They were already awake and expectant. Since she'd met him she'd become consciously aware of every inch of her body—when she walked, when her clothes brushed her skin. Each sensation was a magic reminder of their joining. She crossed her legs and shifted the fabric of her skirt across her thighs with a secret smile.

The taxi pulled up in an elegant boulevard not far from the Tuileries. The hotel was stylish, fronted by massive wrought-iron enclosed glass doors that were flanked by pillars. Matching tall, wrought iron framed windows echoed them on the refined facade. A liveried doorman clicked his heels and bowed when Abby walked up the steps.

The ornate reception area was filled with opulent velvet sofas and potted palms. When she gave her name, the receptionist presented her with a key, and an envelope that bore her name.

"Monsieur Bordino will return shortly. The room is on the second floor. If there's anything you need, please let me know or call room service."

"Thank you," she murmured, and glanced inside the envelope. It contained a slip of paper. She walked to the elevator. When the doors closed, she slid the paper out.

Soon
.

The one word was written in large, slanted letters across the page, underscored with a determined line, and signed with his name. She smiled and curled the piece of paper in her hand.

The brass key fob bore the room number and when she unlocked it she paused as the door swung open. She wanted him to be there, but he wasn't. Walking through the door, she dropped her bag as it shut behind her.

The room had a courtly appearance. Rich furnishings and heavy flowing drapes gave the place a regal air. It truly was a Parisian salon. She glanced at the bed. It was huge, covered in a thick damask quilt that invited the body to sink into it. The headboard reached upwards in a network of gilt spires towards the heavy velvet wall hanging behind it.

A movement caught her eye. The glass doorway to the balcony was open and a long, white lace curtain billowed into the room. It was as if he had stepped out there for a moment, and she followed the movement.

Lifting the curtain aside, she stepped out and found herself on a balcony enclosed by more wrought iron. It overlooked a small courtyard, where a cherub trickled water from an urn into the circular pool that surrounded him. The building closed the courtyard in on all four sides and she glanced at the other windows, wondering how many pairs of lovers the shutters masked from each other. Two pigeons fluffed themselves up on a ledge nearby and looked at her as if she were intruding on their private lovemaking. She smiled and walked back into the room.

The heat of the day was waning, but it was still hot. She slipped her jacket off and moved her camisole over her breasts as she walked back across the room, cooling her skin. She spied Zac's leather jacket hanging over a chair and ran her fingertips over its shoulders. His presence was near. She walked into the bathroom.

It was a marble cavern with a huge tub in the center of the space. Ornate brass taps and a mirror that sprang the length and height of one wall gave the place an air of grandeur. As she came back into the bedroom a small box on the dressing table caught her eye, and she wandered over to it. It was dark charcoal kid leather, mottled like parchment and tied with black string. She didn't touch it but wondered what was inside. Just then, an unseen finger touched her and she held her breath.

The phone rang. She stared at it. What if it was another woman phoning for him? What if she found out something, now, something that she really didn't want to know? It didn't stop ringing. She moved towards the sound reluctantly, but found her hand drawing the receiver to her ear. She listened but did not speak.

"Abby?" It was his voice, the deep intimate sound that called upon something that had laid dormant inside her, until the moment when he stepped into her life.

"Yes," she murmured. "I was worried. I thought I might intercept a call for you, from another woman."

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