"Don't, please. I feel like the worst woman in the world."
"Why? What did you do? He's the one who lied. He's the one who put you through a ridiculous test. He's the one with an ego problem, not you."
"Yes, but I told him I slept with Vane when I didn't. Now he thinks that not only was his test justified but I'm a slut too."
"Don't let any man call you a slut. You're not. No woman is. We don't call single men names when they sleep around yet we get labeled sluts and whores when we do. It's wrong. If any man called me a slut I'd knock him down flat."
Abbey almost smiled. She could imagine Lucy doing just that. "Yes, but you didn't see the look on his face. He was...horrified. I thought he was going to be sick."
Abbey started a fresh bout of crying. Nick had looked awful when she'd thrown him that lie. Something inside him just seemed to go...slack. As if he'd been crushed.
As soon as she'd said it Abbey had regretted it. She wanted to get Nick back for lying to her, but she should have settled with tying him to the bed and leaving. That at least was embarrassing and should put a severe dent in his arrogant ego when housekeeping turned up. But letting him think she'd slept with Damien was unfair.
And it appeared to affect him more than the bondage.
In fact, if he did have any feelings for her, that little piece of information would drive them away. He wasn't likely to call her now.
Good. She didn't want him calling her. She just wanted to forget about him and this entire sorry week. She wanted to get on with her life.
"Abbey Girl, let me assure you that however he looked last night, he's going to forget about you within the week. He'll be dating some society bimbo who fawns over him and really does only want him for his money. But I doubt he'll forget the housekeeper's face as she untied him —at least you made some impact." She giggled again. "I wish I'd been there."
Abbey raised her head. "Do you think so? Do you really think he'll forget me that quickly?"
A tear dripped down each cheek as that thought sank in. Maybe he would get over her easily. She couldn't see why not. A good looking rich man like Nick probably had models throwing themselves at his feet. The thought made her feel ill again.
The phone rang and Lucy picked it up. She listened then put the receiver to her breast so the other person couldn't hear.
"It's Tarken. Shall I get rid of him?"
Abbey hesitated. The last person she wanted to speak to was Tarken but she didn't want Lucy to hang up on him when he knew she was there. She didn't want to hurt any more feelings today.
She wiped her eyes. "Ask him what she wants."
Lucy put the phone back to her ear. "She wants to know what you want." Lucy listened, then put the phone back to her breast again. She was trying hard not to laugh. "He's at the office. He says Goldstein wants a report and he hasn't written it yet. He wants to know if you'll go in and help him. He says he'll pay you by the hour. Abbey, please give me the pleasure of telling him no."
Abbey nodded grimly. "Be my guest."
"The answer's no you bucket of slime," Lucy said into the phone. "Abbey doesn't want to talk to you or see your ugly face ever again. Got it?" She hung up and grinned at Abbey. "Good girl. You're making progress where he's concerned at least. Now if we can just get you to forget about Nick."
Abbey let out a low moan and put her head in her hands again.
She wasn't going to be able to forget Nick Delaware that easily.
CHAPTER 11
Nick leaned back in his leather chair, linked his hands behind his head, and stared out the floor-to-ceiling window of his thirty-fourth floor office. The view over the Sydney Harbor usually calmed him, allowing him to think clearly through meetings, negotiations and other sundry issues.
But today the view did nothing to relax him. The sharp pain that had continued to stab at his heart since Friday night was still there, hacking away.
Friday night. It was a night he'd never forget, that was for sure. But for all the wrong reasons.
The way Abbey had looked in that blue dress, the way it hugged her figure and rose and fell in time with her heavy breathing. She'd wanted him, he could tell. Wanted him, yet all the time, hated him.
Nick closed his eyes to block out the cheery blue sky and the memory of Abbey on that night. He didn't want to be cheery today, and he didn't want to remember Abbey.
Ever.
Problem was, it would take a hell of a long time to forget her.
How could he have made so many stupid mistakes in such a short amount of time? It wasn't like him. He'd never failed so perfectly as he'd failed last week.
His mistakes were too numerous to count. He should have told Abbey who he really was. It wasn't like there weren't enough opportunities. He shouldn't have called her a hooker for starters, especially to her face, and he shouldn't have put her through that ridiculous test.
And finally he should have told her he loved her.
That last realization had hit him so hard he couldn’t stop shaking. On Friday night the minutes had ticked by so slowly as he waited for dawn and the housekeeper, that it had given him a long time to think. His anger and vulnerability had subsided, surprisingly, replaced with a tumult of other emotions and fears. Most of them centered over his realization that he adored Abbey, and that he was afraid of losing her. As he lay on top of the bed, naked and bound, he understood what it meant to be stripped of his self-control. And it had nothing to do with the thought of being found like that in the morning.
Abbey. The woman with the perfect body, bright inquisitive eyes, mouth that begged to be kissed and the ability to make him laugh. He groaned. How could he have ever thought she was a hooker?
He blew out a breath and turned back to the view. What view Abbey was seeing today?
His phone buzzed and he picked up.
"Tarken Pratt from JJC Pharmaceuticals in Melbourne for you, sir. Shall I put him through?"
Nick thought about saying no, then changed his mind. Maybe Tarken had some news about Abbey. Maybe she was working for him again. Maybe he could repair some of the damage if he could speak to her.
"Delaware here," he said into the receiver.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Delaware, we met in Melbourne last week. I was the, ah, date of Abbey McPherson."
Nick was about to open his mouth and tell him of course he remembered when he realized Tarken still thought he was Vane and Vane was him. Abbey probably hadn't bothered to inform him. Interesting. So what did the little swine want?
"If this is about the software —"
"No, no, nothing like that," Tarken said. "It's about your VP of Marketing, Damien Vane."