Finally, he bit off tersely, “Yes.”
Abby went on softly. “Honey, I’m not safe there unless something is done. And, for whatever reason, I’m the only one who can force her out. It has to be me who does it and we both know it has to be done.”
His eyes were so hot on her she could actually feel them scorching into her. His jaw was tight and they stared at each other for long moments.
Then he bent at the waist and she thought he was going to turn off the lamp but his fingers curled around the phone, yanking it out of the charger.
He walked to her and held out the phone.
“Call them, all of them,” he demanded, “every person who’s involved in this fiasco. I want them at my office tomorrow at noon.”
“What?” Abby asked. “Why?”
“Do it,” Cash returned.
Abby’s eyes slid to the digital clock on the microwave then back to Cash. “It’s nearly midnight.”
His hand came out, fingers wrapping around her wrist, he lifted it and put the phone in her palm. “Call them. Now.”
“I don’t know their numbers,” Abby said, watched his brows draw together and hurried on. “I mean, I haven’t memorised them. They’re in my mobile, in my purse, upstairs.”
He lifted his hand and curled it around her neck. “I’ll get your purse.”
He gave her a squeeze, walked up the stairs and got her purse. He came back, scrawled his office address, phone number and directions on a piece of paper and gave it to her.
Then he stood next to Abby while she called everyone, including a seriously cranky, woken-up Mrs. Truman.
When she was done, he took the phone from her, put it back in its charger, turned off the lamp, grabbed her hand and guided her upstairs.
When they were in his bedroom Cash turned on the lamp at her side of the bed. Zee, curled sleeping at the foot of the bed, lifted his head and blinked in annoyance. Then Cash’s hands went to the buttons of his shirt.
Abby stood there watching him and asked, “Can we talk about Suzanne now?”
Cash pulled the shirt off his shoulders and tossed it on the armchair while saying, “No, she’s already had more of my time tonight than she deserves.”
“I’d kind of like an explanation,” Abby requested quietly.
His eyes went to Abby’s as he sat on the armchair and yanked off his shoes and, to her surprise, without any further coaxing Cash explained, “She showed up about fifteen minutes before you. She said she was in Bath having dinner with friends. They’d taken off but her car wasn’t starting. Her mobile had lost its charge and she needed to call AA. I didn’t believe her but I couldn’t leave her out in the cold either. I let her come in, she made her call and she spent ten minutes being supremely annoying. Then she came on strong, as she always does. We heard you come in, she knew it had to be you, I was distracted by your arrival, she moved in for the kill and she kissed me. That’s it.”
Abby couldn’t believe her ears.
Who behaved like that?
“What’s the matter with her?” Abby whispered.
“She’s a bitch,” Cash replied dismissively, standing again, his hands going to the waistband of his trousers.
“I don’t know anyone who acts like that,” Abby muttered, her head tilted down to watch her feet as she flipped off her shoes.
“Darling, come here,” she heard Cash call.
Her head came up, she saw his face had grown warm and immediately she walked to him.
His arms circled her when she got close.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“About Suzanne?” she queried in return.
“I don’t give a f**k about Suzanne. What I don’t like is you scrambling around on a staircase pursued by a ghost,” he told her.
Abby wrinkled her nose and admitted, “It wasn’t fun.”
His eyes had moved to her nose then his lips went there and he kissed her.
Abby held her breath at this tender action, but before she could process its sweetness, his head came up and he murmured, “Let’s get you to bed.”
Then his hands were on the hem of her sweater, he pulled it up, her arms lifted, he yanked it off and threw it to the side.
Shortly after, they went to bed.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Strategic Planning
Abby woke when Cash’s body moved into hers. She drowsily noted she was in a strange position, curled into a ball against Cash, the top of her head pressed into his side. His arm was extended and curved around her spine.
He moved her, sliding her up the bed. Her body uncurled to accommodate his and he rolled mostly on top of her.
His face went into her neck and he murmured in a sleepy burr, “Are you awake?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
His mouth moved from behind her ear to her jaw and he asked, “Are you still on your period?”
Abby answered, “Probably,” and she heard the disappointment in her voice.
His lips hit hers and brushed there softly before he said, “Go back to sleep.”
He started to move away but her arms went around him, stopping his retreat.
Her mind was groggily registering that they didn’t have all the time in the world, so there was no time to waste.
She pressed up and pushed off on a foot, rolling him to his back, positioning herself on top of him, her mouth going to his neck and she tasted him there.
She felt his hands at her bottom and then he said, “Abby.”
“Quiet,” she whispered.
His hands trailed up her back as her lips moved on his neck.
“You don’t have to do this, darling,” he told her, his voice low and rough.
Her head came up and she looked at him in the dark.
On a soft smile, she replied, “I know.”
Then she bent her head and used her hands and mouth on him, everywhere on him, wherever she wanted, however she liked and she took her time.
And he let her.
And he enjoyed it.
A lot.
After she was finished with him, he kissed her with residual passion mixed with sweet gratitude and left the bed.
Abby curled around his pillow and her last thought before falling back to sleep was, That was brilliant.
* * * * *
“Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?” Kieran Kane was standing in his kitchen with his wife who was wiping down the counters like she was preparing to perform surgery on them.
Jenny glanced at him. “Nothing’s the matter.”
He grinned. “Right.”
She stopped wiping, straightened to look at him and repeated, “Nothing’s the matter.”