Moment of Weakness: One Moment, Book 1 (5 page)

Try as she might, Abby never could remember who’d made the move resulting in her and Nathan naked in bed. It hadn’t seemed important at the time. They’d worked well enough together. Had fun times. The pregnancy scare fast-tracked their relationship—a relationship Abby was positive would’ve ended in engagement anyway.

Then Nicky came home from France.

Abby hadn’t noticed any change in her relationship with Nathan. She hadn’t been looking for the signs because it had never occurred to her that her sister or fiancé would betray her. She could never have guessed Nathan would take one look at Nicky and fall hard. Then, instead of being honest with Abby about his feelings and breaking off the engagement, he’d taken every opportunity to have her sister. In their home. In Abby’s bed. God, Abby had even left them on their own a couple of times when she’d raced away to study at night. She’d felt guilty for ditching them at the last minute.

How they must’ve laughed at her…

Water slopped over the bench and dribbled onto the floor as the glass tipped to the side, long forgotten. Fuck. She snatched up a cloth to mop at the spill. All the while her attention was pulled through the doorway to the silently blinking answering machine. If she stared hard enough, maybe the red light would disappear. The battery might run out, or the tape would self-destruct in ten seconds. There was only one way Abby knew how to deal with it. Death of the message.

Except something stilled her hand from automatically obliterating it.

“Abby, it’s Nicky. Look, I know you’re hurt still, but please, just stop…and listen. I’m pregnant. Me and Nathan…we’re having a baby. I need you. I need my sister. Please. I know we did wrong. Me. Nathan…Mom…but we were only—”

Abby yanked the answering machine out from the wall and stormed outside to dump it in the trash. Hard enough to break it. Now they were having a baby? For a moment, Abby’s heart contracted painfully as a shot of panic clinched her chest tight. Didn’t Nicky realize Nathan would do to her what he’d done to Abby? How could she bring a baby into a relationship like that?

Then the sound of her sister trying to rationalize their behavior crept back into her subconscious. Along with her anger. It was always the same.
‘We didn’t mean to. We were only…we’re in love.’
It made Abby sick. Love wasn’t a good enough reason to stab your sister in the back then hand the knife to your mother to plunge it into her heart.

Fuck them all. Abby didn’t need any of them. Her life was better now and last night with Marcus had proved it. Best. Sex. Ever.

Knowing she’d never find sleep, Abby grabbed her keys and headed to work. At least there was one person in the world she could still trust.

Chapter Five

“No way. No fucking way!” Abby stared in disbelief at her best friend and business partner, the one person she’d believed would never cause her grief.

“Damn it, Abby. Why not?”

Stacy rolled her wheelchair out from behind her desk and pulled to a stop on the other side of the meeting table Abby used. Abby wasn’t in the office enough to warrant her own furniture. That was how she liked it.

Ignoring her scowl, Stacy continued as if Abby wasn’t doing her best bulldog impersonation. “Mr. Brookhein specifically asked for you to consult for him, Abby. You must have made quite an impression. He said your performance in the boardroom was, and I quote ‘the best he’d ever seen’.” She paused, her eyes glued to Abby. “Which is interesting when we both know delivering reports isn’t your forte.”

Abby’s face heated, even as she bit back an unwelcome smile. At least Marcus hadn’t stooped to mentioning their creative juices flowing.

But Stacy got it anyway. Her expression turned to one of horror. “Oh my God. You fucked him, didn’t you? In the boardroom?” Horror twisted to admiration, then morphed quickly into excitement. “And he wants to hire you? Yay, Abby. Go you!”

“No. Not go me.” Abby gripped the edge of the desk. “This is bad, Stace. Really bad.”

But there was no stopping her friend. Stacy burbled on about how fantastic it all was, her voice carrying higher and higher while Abby rested her forehead on the table and let out a groan. Why the hell had Marcus asked her to consult for him? He should know the damn rules. After all, she’d thrown them in his face enough times.

“He’s not Nathan.” Stacy spoke the words lightly, as if trying to draw attention away from the fact she’d said his name out loud. The air went quiet between them.

Abby closed her eyes and her jaw clenched tight as the old feelings of anger and helplessness resurfaced. It didn’t matter. Not anymore. The dead limbs on her rotting family tree had been lopped off the day her mother and sister made their choice not to tell her.

Stacy scooted her chair up to Abby’s side and her friend’s hand fell on her shoulder. “It’s all right, Abby. I’ll do it.”

Abby smiled and shook her head. “You can’t. You know you can’t.”

“Why not?” Amusement lit Stacy’s voice as she tried to bring Abby back to the light. “It’s because I’m in a wheelchair, isn’t it?” she pseudo-whispered.

This did make Abby chuckle. “You’re six months pregnant,” she snorted, attempting to poke at her friend’s stomach. She couldn’t do it, not even in jest. Instead, Abby laid her hand flat across the middle of Stacy’s round belly, hoping for a prenatal high five. “And you have two kids. Steve would kill me if I took you away for a day, let alone a few weeks” she finished, trying not to think of Nicky. Pregnant.

Stacy shifted Abby’s hand a little to the left and Abby was rewarded with a prod from within Stacy’s stomach. She drew in closer, grinning.

“I’d still do it you know,” Stacy told her.

Abby withdrew her hand and her smile faded. “I know you would.”

Stacy gave Abby’s fingers a squeeze. “Anyway, it’s only four weeks.” She threw this last comment out casually as she retreated behind her desk.

“Four weeks!” The words squeaked out of lungs that were suddenly airless. Abby banged her head on the table. “Can’t we say no? Do we really need the money?” She knew the answer before she started begging. Wasn’t it hilarious they were financial consultants and a whacking great tax bill threatened to ruin them?
Thank you, Uncle Sam.

Stacy winced. “Taxes are due at the end of next month. After our big profit last year…”

“I know. I know.” Abby held up her hand to stop her.

“Come on, Abby,” Stacy prompted. “It’s only a few weeks. Just get in, do the bizo and leave. Relentless. Like a shark.” She swam her hand through the air.

“A shark.” Abby lowered one brow at her friend. “And what is a shark’s biggest predator?”

“Uh, whale?” Stacy hazarded a guess, then bit her lip, thinking. “Oh, oh, I know this. Man!”

Abby fixed her friend with a dry stare. “And what is Marcus?”

Stacy’s face fell. “Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.” Because there was no mistaking Marcus was all man.

A dark shiver trickled its way down Abby’s spine as she realized she was heading into dangerous waters.

Stacy left for the day, leaving Abby at her desk staring at her computer screen. Killing time. Trying not to think about why Marcus had called. Or the fact she had to go through with his job, despite her better judgment. Abby had found the strongly worded letter from the federal tax department tucked away on Stacy’s desk. Last year had not been a good one for Stacy health-wise and she’d needed the drawdowns from their partnership. But with money came taxes. Which meant you needed more money.

Giving in to five hours of temptation, Abby finally allowed herself to open the internet and type in Marcus’s name. The screen filled with links, and she followed one to an article from Baltimore’s top news sites. So, he’d graduated early from a prestigious Maryland Boys’ School, scholarship all the way before finishing a double degree by the time he was twenty-one. Marcus had made his first million a couple years later, playing the stock market and getting his money out before the slump. Smart.

Abby hadn’t needed to read any of that to determine Marcus was highly competitive. His approach to his work at Crovens had spelled that out. And the way he’d stepped right up to the bar that night in Baltimore… Which brought her back to her original question. Why did Marcus need a small, specialist consultancy firm like Abby’s to advise him on tax matters? Crovens had a branch in Chicago, which was how the Wellsford business knew about Abby—through a mutually satisfied associate. Very satisfied, if she remembered correctly. But millionaire Marcus Brookhein? The sex had been great. Sure. But you didn’t make money throwing it away on something equivalent to high class hookers. And with a body like his, he didn’t need to.

No. Marcus had to have something in mind for Abby’s particular set of financial skills. Okay. He’d at least succeeded in intriguing her.

She clicked open their client database and retrieved the newly created file with Marcus’s details. It wasn’t the first time tonight she’d looked at it, each time reaffirming she had to contact him and lay down the rules. Whatever his little game. It was obvious Marcus played to win and Abby needed to keep him on the back foot to ensure the situation remained tightly in her control.

But first…

Abby felt like a stalker as she looked up Marcus’s Wellsford address on a global mapping app and changed to street view. She told herself it was better to know thy enemy, trying to ignore the thrill of excitement at the thought of spying on where he lived. Or as much as she could see of it, hidden by miles of six foot fencing. If she tilted the view up enough, Abby glimpsed the top two stories of a huge, gabled brick mansion.

Switching to satellite, she noted the back of the house sat up against the edge of the Potomac River with a private beach that sloped down to the water. If she zoomed in, Abby could just make out a small boat drying in the sun.

Single scull. That brought about a slew of erotic images featuring Marcus on the river with his muscles bunching and unbunching as he dug the oars in, skimming across the water like a stone skipping across a lake. A silvery shudder threaded its way through her veins. She’d like to see him row. Topless.

Squirming in her seat, Abby shut down the internet and reopened Marcus’s address details. A quick inquiry pinpointed his offices in the heart of downtown Wellsford. Her home for the next four weeks. She closed it with no more than a cursory look.

This was business. Something she needed to make abundantly clear to Marcus before turning up to work at his offices. She looked at her watch. Midnight. Which meant one in the morning for him. Abby judged it was late enough to call him at work and safely assume Marcus wouldn’t be there.

Okay. She was being a coward, phoning him after hours, but her message would be clear. And wasn’t it better to rip off the sticking plaster now—unlike Nathan—and tell Marcus exactly how it would be. Clicking on his business number, Abby connected the call. She’d drop a quick, professional message into his voice mail and leave him in no doubt that
professional
was all their working relationship would be. Never mind the ache of her body reminding Abby of the one bright spot in her sex-life in the last fourteen months.

Hell, who was she kidding? Her life.

Marcus had certainly kept his end of the bargain when it’d come to their one night together. He’d taken the time to get to know her body, not the
wham, bam, thank you ma’am
of the previous Logan look-alikes. This time, something inside Abby had been filled, the ache soothed and appeased. For now.

“This is Marcus Brookhein…”

Marcus’s recorded voice snatched Abby’s attention and heat rushed to every cell of her body as her heart started pounding.
Down girl.
She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves to deliver the message she’d written down in her neat, precise handwriting.

“Mr. Brookhein. It’s Ms. Harkness from StratEG.” Her first words came out in a rush and Abby closed her eyes.
Fuck.
That’d serve her right for reliving a night of hot sex right before she needed to speak. She sucked in another quick breath, glad it wasn’t Marcus answering in real life or she would have come across as a complete gibbering idiot. “I’m calling to confirm that we will take the contract for consultancy. Ms. Walker will be in touch tomorrow with the details—”

The phone clicked, stalling Abby’s now perfectly rolling speech.

“Ms. Harkness, I’m glad you called.”

Marcus’s smooth tones brought back every touch, every silken caress he’d lavished on her body in a single, blood-rushed second. She dropped the phone, almost orgasming right there in her seat.
Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Abby, are you all right?” Even from far away Abby could hear the sharpness of concern in his tone.

She flushed, barely holding back an uncontrollable urge to giggle.
Get a grip.
She plucked the phone up and brought it to her ear, reminding herself she held all of the power. Professional Abby snapped back into place.

“I didn’t expect you to be in your office.” Damn. Abby dug her nails into her palms at the sultry quality in her voice.

“Oh, I think you’ll find I’m always ready for business.” Marcus’s voice held a hint of amusement. A smug satisfaction.

Abby bit the inside of her cheek, forcing her hormones back into her dampening panties. “Business?” She gave the word a good dose of sarcasm. Oh yes, this was the perfect time to set him straight. Did he think she’d fall into his bed, or tumble onto his boardroom table so easily? “I’m glad you’re bringing that up Mr. Brookhein, because we do have a few things to discuss which fall…ah…outside of contractual parameters.”

“Ahh, yes. We can’t forget the rules, can we, Ms. Harkness?”

Abby could imagine him leaning back in his chair, tapping those long fingers together with a smirk on his face. Squaring her shoulders, she adjusted the page in front of her, the one with the bullet point list she’d compiled earlier.

“I require my own office,” she started. This was the first thing Abby had thought of. No way could she share an office with Marcus and not remember what they’d done with each other. To each other. In each other. Abby gulped in air and held it, her thighs tightening as she twitched in her seat. “You are contracting me to complete a job and I intend to do it in the shortest time possible with minimal distractions. To ensure you get a fair return on the commitment you’re making, of course.” Each word filled Abby with more confidence so that by the time she’d finished her sentence, she felt more like herself. “Also, I may decide to work weekends and after hours, so I will require access to the office at all times.”

Actually she intended to work 24/7 until the damn contract was completed. And maybe once it was over, they could…

Abby stopped that thought in its tracks. No.

“Come now, Abby. Surely you’ll allow a little time for play.” Marcus’s words wended their way through the ear piece to set Abby’s senses quivering. Her bones melted until she was just a puddle of hormones clutching a phone.

She was panting. Panting. “I’m coming—” Another little shiver. “Uh, arriving to work, Mr. Brookhein. No more than that. Just so we’re clear.” Abby ran her fingers through her hair and wiped the sheen of moisture off her forehead.

“Of course,” Marcus replied easily, the amusement back in his voice. “And I have some requirements of my own. But I’ll discuss those with you when you get here.”

Abby swallowed at the implied threat. She just bet she knew what his requirements were. And oh, she wanted them. Very much. Her nipples hardened, her body heat climbing a few degrees.

“I’d like you to start as soon as possible.” He was still talking. Abby clawed back her focus. “Let me know when you think you can get here.”

“Ms. Walker will communicate my travel plans.” Her words squeaked out. She cleared her throat and tried again. “As you are well aware, I’ve just got back, so I have a few things to take care of.”

A wall of silence followed her answer and Abby wondered if Marcus had heard her. She was about to repeat herself when he came back, his voice barely more than a hiss.

“Don’t take too long, Abby. I won’t appreciate being kept waiting. So if you have personal needs, attend to them on your own time.”

Abby lifted the phone away from her ear and looked at it, frowning. Marcus had never been anything other than amused and charming in all of their dealings. Was there a darker side she hadn’t noticed before? And what did he think she meant by personal needs?

Smiling grimly she brought the phone back to her ear. “I said I’ll be there and I will. But, I’ll tell you this, Mr. Brookhein.” Abby waited a beat, making sure she had Marcus’s full attention. “I have many needs, far too many for just one night. So don’t expect me there tomorrow.”

Damn it!