Thoroughly entwined, Cash felt the peace invade.
And he allowed himself to sleep.
Chapter Sixteen
Séance
Cash pulled his Maserati into her drive and Abby watched as he turned off the ignition.
Then he got out and she did as well. She closed her door and watched him go to the trunk and pull out not only her, but also his suitcases.
He put one on the ground, slammed the trunk, picked it up again and his eyes came to hers.
Then he walked right passed her to the steps that led to her front door.
I guess Cash is spending the night, she thought on a sigh and followed him.
Germany had been good or, as with anything to do with Cash, too good.
Indeed, it was exceptional or (although Abby was trying not to think this way, she was, as ever, finding it supremely difficult) one could say it was even magical.
It hadn’t started that way.
In fact, they’d almost had another row before they left.
This happened when they were both in her bedroom the morning she packed.
Cash was standing in the bay window talking on his BlackBerry and alternately watching her and looking outside, his gaze resting on her far-off view of the sea (one of the many things about her house that she loved most, and, incidentally, so had Ben).
She’d closed her suitcase, pleased with her efforts and the fact that she still had ten minutes to spare, and proclaimed, “Done!” as if she’d just successfully climbed Mount Kilimanjaro (which it felt like she had).
Still on his phone, as calm as you please, he walked to her suitcase, opened it, dug under her clothes and took out three pairs of high-heeled shoes.
She watched as one-by-one he tossed each shoe into a corner of the room.
First, she stared at the shoes and made a mental note to have a word with him about how he handled her designer gear. Though she made another note to do it when her head wasn’t about to explode.
Then her eyes went to his.
When their eyes caught, he put his palm over the Blackberry and ordered, “Flats.”
Forgetting for a moment that she was his dutiful escort, not his recalcitrant girlfriend, she’d marched to the shoes, marched back to her bag and repacked them.
The whole time she was at her task, Cash watched.
When she was done, he said into his phone, “One second.”
Then he took it from his ear, again put his palm over it and uttered one word only.
“Abby.”
Without hesitation, mimicking his implacable tone, she returned, “Cash.”
They stared at each other and Abby mentally prepared for battle.
Then to her shock, he sighed, shook his head and finally smiled.
“We’ll buy you a helmet in Munich,” he teased, the smile had reached his eyes and she watched as they warmed. Abby felt the now-familiar pleasantness invade her system at being the recipient of a smile from Cash accompanied by that soft look.
Then turning back toward the sea, he put his phone to his ear.
For their entire trip, that had been the only time they’d disagreed.
Everything else had been wonderful.
Ben and Abby had never travelled well together. They were great once they got to their destination but getting there, and getting home, had never been fun.
Ben always complained about how much Abby packed. Further, he liked to be at the airport an hour before the hours before they actually had to be there, something which drove Abby insane. He was not fond (to say the least) of Abby’s penchant for duty-free shopping. Even though he usually didn’t mind her spending, when they were travelling it annoyed him that she’d blow half of their budget before they even left the country (but Abby couldn’t help it, the deals were just too good to pass up).
Cash didn’t care how much she packed (he just didn’t like her heels), not even when he had to carry her heavy suitcase down to his car. And she didn’t get a chance to duty-free shop as Cash owned his own plane.
Yes. His own plane.
Like everything else he owned it was sleek and expensive but not ostentatious. It was a six-seater jet, a luxurious one but not overly-large nor overly-well-appointed. It was comfortable and well-stocked but he didn’t have gorgeous, rail-thin, model-type flight attendants wearing mini-skirted, cle**age-busting uniforms. They had to make their own coffee, well Abby did, Cash was on his laptop the whole trip.
With some effort Abby hid how stunned she was he had his own plane. Obviously, he was Expensive-Escort, Diamond-Bracelet, Cashmere-Robe Loaded but owning a jet took it to a new level.
She had to hide her shock again when, once they arrived in Munich, they went to the opulent Mandarin Oriental and were shown to an elegant suite which included a king-sized bed and walk-in closet.
She wasn’t surprised however when he tipped the bellman, closed the door and took Abby into his arms for a quick but thorough kiss before telling her he needed to get to work.
Thus started their time in Germany and Abby thought it would be just like home.
It wasn’t.
Firstly, Cash didn’t wake up at five o’clock, turn to her for a heated, but quick, mind-boggling session of lovemaking and leave.
He woke up at six, turned to her for a heated, but long, lingering, mind-boggling session of lovemaking, after which he held her for awhile, asking her questions in a soft voice like what she was going to do that day and stroking the small of her back or playing with her hair.
Then he left.
She spent her days in Munich’s gardens, museums and churches as well as shopping, but not buying (for herself, she got Jenny a souvenir for watching Zee).
Late afternoon, he’d call to warn her he was returning to the hotel but he always gave her plenty of time to get back to meet him there.
They spent their nights in the city’s famous beer gardens with Cash introducing Abby to her new favourite thing, Prinzregententorte, a culinary extravaganza including seven thin layers of cake separated with chocolate buttercream and covered in chocolate glaze.
The minute the cake plate was placed in front of her, her eyes hit it and rounded in greedy, exultant wonder. Cash took in her look and burst out laughing.
After he finished with his hilarity, he partially stood, leaning across the table, one hand on its top, the other one wrapping around the back of her head and with everyone watching and his mouth still smiling, he gave her a hard, short kiss that stole her breath.
He kissed her after she’d eaten the cake too. Since he had a piece as well, that kiss tasted better but Cash kissing her with a smile on his face was definitely the best.
He also spent their evenings conducting gentle, but thorough, interrogations.