Penmort Castle (22 page)

Not
be
available to him for the activities in which he liked to engage
when he woke. Activities she liked too. Activities that might
weaken her resolve.

The problem
was, when she came out of the bathroom, the light was on and Cash
was awake, alert and lying on his side in the bed. He was up on
elbow, head resting in his hand, covers down around his waist, his
sleek chest in full view and, lastly, his dark eyes were on her. He
had that warm, soft expression on his face that he’d shown her the
night he’d given her the robes.

Her firm
resolve to be Abigail Butler, Skilled but Detached Full-Time Escort
and Part-Time Whore slipped a notch at the sight of him and she had
to quickly fortify her defences.

“You’re awake,”
she announced unnecessarily and he gave her a lazy smile.

At his smile,
Abby’s puny defences crashed down in a humiliating heap and she was
forced early on to dig into her reserves.

“It looks good
on you,” he said instead of commenting on her inane remark.

Abby stopped at
the foot of the bed and asked, “Pardon?”

His head dipped
toward her but other than that he didn’t move.

However when he
spoke, his voice was that deep, throaty, rich that she liked so
very much. “The dressing gown, it looks good on you.”

Abby swallowed
then replied, “Thank you.”

“Why are you
up?” he asked.

“I don’t know,”
she lied.

“You should
have woken me, we could have showered together,” he told her.

At the thought
of showering with him (which they’d done on Sunday morning and
she’d enjoyed it, like,
a lot
), she found herself digging
even deeper into those reserves. She also found this a little
concerning considering their conversation had lasted less than five
minutes and she was already losing her willpower.

Before she
could announce her intention to go make coffee and politely suggest
she’d bring him a cup which she thought would be a nice touch, he
pushed up from his elbow.

“Come here,” he
said softly as he swung his legs around and got out of bed.

He walked to
the armchair by the window, grabbed his suit jacket and when she
got close he took her hand, led her back to the bed and seated
himself on it, tugging her into his lap.

His lap was
definitely not where she wanted to be if she wanted to keep herself
distant from him but she also had to keep up the charade.

However, Abby’s
brain decided it didn’t like the charade all that much and
registered how nice it was to sit in his lap. Her brain also took
that opportunity to remind her about other nice things about Cash
that she liked.

She absently
noted his hands were doing something with his suit jacket but she
was deep in thought. She was digging way deep to harden herself
against the fact that she liked sitting in his lap and all the
other things she liked about him besides.

She came back
to the room when he leaned into her and tossed his jacket so it
landed back on the chair.

And she felt
her eyes grow wide just as she felt her body go still when she saw
the long, slim, royal-blue, velvet box in his hand.

An unmistakable
kind of box.

The kind of box
that held jewellery.

Expensive
jewellery.

“Cash,” she
whispered as he forced it to click open with his thumb and her
breath lodged in her throat at what she saw.

He took out a
delicate diamonds-in-platinum bracelet.

Not a tacky,
ostentatious one but instead it was subtle and striking, with slim
links separated by tasteful, not overly large (but not small by a
long shot) diamonds.

He tossed the
box carelessly on the bed and his fingers wrapped around her arm
below the elbow, slowly drifting down to her wrist. He lifted it
and placed the bracelet around her wrist as Abby stared at his
hands, concentrating on breathing.

“We were going
into the meeting,” he murmured while working the clasp, “I saw this
in a window. It made me think of you so I sent Moira in to get
it.”

Abby failed at
concentrating on her breathing. Her lungs burned their demand for
oxygen but she couldn’t for the life of her remember how to give it
to them.

Cash finished
fastening the bracelet on her wrist but he wasn’t done. He brought
her wrist to his mouth and he kissed her gently, his lips brushing
the sensitive skin on the inside.

For a moment
Abby almost pressed her hand against his face. She almost leaned in
to press her lips to his. She almost burst into tears.

His eyes came
to her, they travelled over her face and he must have read her
intent because his expression got soft before his arms went around
her and he whispered, “You can thank me now.”

The breath came
back to her lungs and with it came something she didn’t know she
had in her.

It was
something ugly but useful, if she intended to guard her thoughts,
her emotions, and, if she was honest, her heart.

It was
something that made her say, “And what form of gratitude does a
diamond bracelet buy you?”

She watched his
face go blank and his arms seemed to convulse around her.

Then she
watched, with no small concern, as his eyes narrowed.

“I’m sorry?” he
asked and his voice had an edge, an edge that said quite clearly
she should be very careful with her answer.

She wasn’t.

“The bracelet,”
she replied, shaking her wrist as if to remind him, “I just want to
be certain what I owe you for the bracelet.”

She watched a
muscle jump in his jaw and it took everything she had not to jump
off his lap.

Or worse, beg
him to let her take it back.

“Would you
care,” he said, very slowly and equally dangerously, “to tell me
what the fuck you’re on about?”

Even sensing he
was angrier than she’d ever seen him before, and it was not in
doubt that Cash Fraser had a formidable temper, she kept playing
her game. “I’m not on about anything. I just don’t want any
surprises. I like to know what’s expected of me, you know
that.”

He watched her
for a moment before he stated, “Something’s changed.”

“Nothing’s
changed,” Abby returned.

His arms got
tighter on hearing her lie. “Something’s. Fucking. Changed.”

Oh dear
Lord
, Abby thought. He was saying “fuck”.

He didn’t shy
away from using that word. Except when he was angry he used it a
different way.

And he was
using it that way now which Abby knew wasn’t good.

She ignored his
ominous use of the f-word and repeated her bald-faced lie, “Nothing
has changed.”

His eyes were
still narrow, his brows were drawn and he watched her mouth while
she was speaking as if it was fascinating in its hideousness.

“Yesterday,” he
said, his words still slow and dangerous as he went on, “I left you
sweet and smiling in my bed and now you’re acting like a common
whore.”

That stung but
Abby hid it and returned coldly, “I’m not a
common
whore,
Cash. I’m an uncommon one. You know that too because you made it
so.”

At that he
moved swiftly. So swiftly, her breath flew from her lungs.

She was on her
back on the bed, sucking in air and he was on his side looming over
her threateningly when he clipped, “You opened your legs for me
Abby, you begged me to come inside. I didn’t fucking make you a
whore.”

“Really? Then
why did you pay me after with hundreds of pounds worth of new
robes?” she replied acidly.

She hoped to
all that was holy that she hid the fear that shot through her when
she saw his face darken.

“That wasn’t
fucking payment,” Cash growled.

“It seemed like
it to me,” Abby retorted, making her awful lie sound real and, as
intended, she successfully struck her target.

His darkening
face turned thunderous.

“You’re a
fucking piece of work,” he snarled, pushing off her and exiting the
bed muttering, “unbelievable.”

At that point,
Abby should have kept quiet.

She really
should have.

But Abby often
did stupid things so she didn’t.

Instead,
scrambling off the bed, she asked when she’d gained her feet, “It
was a simple question, Cash. Why do you sound so surprised?”

His dark eyes
speared her and he answered, “Now,
that’s
a good question,
darling, why
am
I so surprised?”

Abby watched,
holding her ground with effort, as he came close, so close he was
an inch away.

Then he dealt a
deadly verbal blow. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve made it
perfectly clear you’re determined to hold onto a dead man so given
time to shut down, you fucking took it.”

And that’s when
Abby lost her phony cool composure and also lost her temper. Not
solely angry at Cash and what he said but also angry at herself
because she was so, embarrassingly, transparent.

“I don’t
believe
you just said that!” she snapped, her voice rising
and becoming shrill.

“Believe it,
Abby,” he clipped back, his voice rising at the same time it dipped
deep.

Her voice was
no longer rising, it was loud when she yelled, “You don’t know a
thing about me!”

His face moved
close to hers and he returned crudely, “I know I can make you
forget him when my mouth is between your legs.”

“Oh my
God!
” Abby screeched, arms straight down, hands balled into
fists in an effort not to slap him.

But he carried
on. “And I know you’re full of shit. I know this whole act is full
of shit. You’re terrified. He died and then you sacrificed yourself
to him but you didn’t have the fucking courage to slit your wrists
to join him, did you Abby?” She gasped at his cruel question but he
didn’t give her time to answer. “Instead you’ve done the next best
thing. I don’t know how you’ve managed to so royally fuck up your
life to get where you are now. I do know you’re pretty fucking
comfortable letting a man pay for your company but you’re scared
shitless of giving it away.”

“Don’t think,
Mr. Fraser, with all the clever skills at your command, that you
can actually read my mind while you fuck me,” she shouted.

“Darling,” he
shot back tersely, “I didn’t have to fuck you to read you. You’re
an open fucking
book
.”

“Don’t call me
darling,” Abby snapped.

“I paid for
you, Abby, I’ll do whatever the fuck I want,” he bit back.

It was at that
point Abby realised she was breathing heavily and so was Cash.

She stared at
him, heart beating, breath coming fast. He held her glare and
returned it until Abby could take no more.

She looked over
his shoulder and asked with saccharine sweetness, “If you’re
through with me this morning, Mr. Fraser, I’d like to go home.”

She let out a
shocked gasp when his hand closed around her neck and he jerked her
forward, her body slamming into his and his face coming within a
breath of her own.

“I’m through
with you Abby, for now. But you better fucking be ready tonight.
Six o’clock. I’ll pick you up at your house and if you make me
wait, there’ll be consequences.”

“I’ll be
ready,” she snapped.

“Wear the
fucking bracelet,” he returned, his beautiful voice had turned
ugly, “and don’t wear any fucking underwear. You want to know the
price of that bracelet? It’s you sitting next to me at dinner and
me knowing the whole time there’ll be no obstacles when I fuck you
after taking you home.”

And on that
successful parting shot, he let her go and strode to the bathroom,
the door clicking sharply behind him.

And Abby didn’t
hesitate in dressing and slamming out of the house. She ran on her
high-heeled shoes to her car and she didn’t allow herself to start
crying until she hit the motorway.

Incidentally,
Cash didn’t call that day.

Neither did
Moira.

Abby went home.
Upon seeing his quote, Abby gave the plumber the go ahead to fix
the two other bathrooms and also gave the boiler man her approval
to replace her two boilers.

And after
working herself into a state about the idea that Cash would fire
her as well as getting herself worked up in another way about all
Cash had said to her, she called James herself. She told him to
tell Cash that if he intended to forfeit on the arrangement, he
could transfer fifty thousand into her account by the end of the
working day and they’d call it even.

James had
sounded strangely shocked and then he even more strangely suggested
she talk to Cash herself.

When she
refused, he stranger than strangely suggested she visit Cash at his
office to “chat”.

The idea of
Abby popping by Cash’s office to chat after their blow out was so
ludicrous, she laughed straight out (not to mention, she didn’t
know where he worked).

Then she’d
flatly refused that too and demanded to know if he would pass on
her message.

Although he
didn’t sound like he liked it, he promised he would.

And after she’d
slid her phone shut, Abby worried that calling James was a tactical
error.

Then she found
she didn’t have time to worry about that when she had to worry
about her outfit for that evening’s dinner.

Now, she was
standing in the guest bedroom wondering what on earth to wear to
dinner at a haunted castle.

“Hello!” she
heard Jenny call from downstairs.

Abby closed her
eyes, tipped her head back and breathed, “Bloody hell.”

Painful
Lessons

It took Jenny
what felt to Abby like a year to reach the top floor and when she
finally entered the guest bedroom, Abby knew why.