The Abby Green Modern Collection. Эбби Грин
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the new.
She left one room till last, then took a deep breath and opened the door. Much like his office, Caleb’s bedroom had wall-to-wall, ceiling-to-floor windows, affording what was truly a millionaire’s view of the city. There weren’t any personal effects that she could see; a few of Caleb’s things were neatly hung in a walk-in dressing room and there were toiletries in the bathroom, but she guessed he hadn’t had much time to move in.
Just enough time to take a mistress…
She tried to avoid looking at the focal point, but couldn’t. A huge king-size bed dominated the room. Dressed in dark, luxurious linen, it looked crisp and inviting, yet very, very scary. Suddenly an image formed of her with Caleb, limbs entangled, the sheets cast aside, covering her whole body with his own, dark against pale.
What would it be like? Skin to skin…Caleb pressing down on her with his aroused body…
A sound at the door nearly made her jump out of her skin. She whirled around, her hand going to her throat in fright. It was the concierge. The relief that pulsed through her body made her feel weak.
‘This is the last of the bags.’
‘Thank you so much; you shouldn’t have…’ She followed the man out and, when he was gone, leant back against the front door, her heart still hammering. Shaking her head, she pushed herself away and set about exploring more thoroughly and putting the clothes in the dressing room.
By nine o’clock that night Maggie’s nerves were wound to a stretching point she hadn’t known they’d possessed. Every time a noise sounded she held her breath, only relaxing once it had gone away. She’d rung her mother to check in, being as vague as possible about her situation. To her utter relief, she sounded so much improved that Maggie knew she could relax for the first time in a long time. With a friend from the village checking in every day, she knew she’d get a call immediately if anything was wrong.
The phone rang, startling her out of her thoughts. Warily she picked it up.
‘Maggie…’A pulse between her legs throbbed just at the sound of his voice; why did it have to come down the line like a caress? She pressed her legs together fiercely.
‘Caleb. I was just hoping you weren’t in a hospital somewhere.’
She could have sworn she almost heard a chuckle, disconcerting her for a moment. ‘I just bet you were. I meant to ring earlier but I’ve been held up waiting for a call from Los Angeles. With the time difference, I won’t get in till after midnight. You should go to bed.’
She remembered how late it had been last night when he’d left the office and bizarrely couldn’t stop a rush of concern, which she rapidly dampened. She was disconcerted and flummoxed by his having the courtesy to call.
‘I’ll go ahead and eat, then.’ The minute the words were out, she cursed silently. The last thing she wanted was to appear in any way concerned. Or that she’d been waiting for him.
‘Don’t tell me you cooked us a romantic meal?’
‘No such luck,’ she said sweetly, mentally crossing her fingers for the white lie. ‘I’ve been known to burn water.’ She had actually prepared a simple casserole, but wasn’t going to tell him that.
‘I assume you’ve settled in.’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. I’ll try not to wake you when I get in…or you could always wait up…?’
Maggie faked a yawn, her stomach cramping with panic. ‘Much as I’d love to, I can’t stay awake. All the excitement…Goodbye, then.’
She was about to put the phone down when she heard her name; she lifted it back up. His voice was low and lethally silky in her ear. ‘If you’re not in my bed when I get in, Maggie…you will be by morning.’
The phone clicked down. Maggie thought of the furthest guest room she’d already picked in some futile attempt to deny what was expected of her. She knew he would do exactly as he said. He would carry her bodily out of that bed, into his own.
Knowing she had no choice, she packed away her comfy nightshirt and closed the door on that room. She went into the dressing room, where she’d laid out all the new clothes. She’d placed the underwear and negligées in a drawer. They’d not been her choice to buy, but the shop assistant who’d helped her had been so enthusiastic she hadn’t had the heart to curtail her, or deny her the commission. And she thought of a couple of dresses that the girl had picked out. Dresses Maggie would never normally choose…but, she’d guessed at the time, they were dresses that would be suitable for Caleb’s mistress to wear. So she had taken them also.
And, if she was honest, a part of her had thought, Hang Caleb, he can pay for all this ten times over, and more. She resolutely refused to look too deeply into the possibility that she had in fact bought them because she wanted to…for him. She had to remember she was playing a part. And what he would expect was a mistress, dressed suitably, in his bed. That thought made her shiver as she prepared.
Later, while waiting for sleep to claim her, as she lay on the very edge of the huge bed, Maggie reflected uncomfortably that their phone conversation earlier had been almost…too easy, with a hint of warmth even. And that was dangerous. Because it reminded her of the heady days when she’d first got to know him in London, when she’d seen that other side to him. She turned over and rested her head on her hand. If he was to turn on the charm she’d be lost, for certain. She knew because she’d been lost before. Despite everything that had transpired, she was very much afraid that she was still lost.
The drama of the last few days caught up with her finally, the sleepless nights. She gave in to a deep dreamless sleep.
Caleb woke early. He was aware of the heat of another body close to his. Turning so that he was on one side, he looked to see Maggie nestling close, curled towards him. Vibrant red hair fanned out around her head. He’d been dimly aware of her shape on the far side of the bed the previous night and had been too exhausted to investigate further. But they’d obviously gravitated towards each other during the night.
Now, however, he could study her at leisure. She looked younger, innocent…oddly vulnerable. His face took on a hardness as he dismissed the notion, his eyes travelling down. With the cover drawn back, she was revealed in a creamy negligée, the delicate lace just disguising the mounds of her breasts, which rose and fell with even breaths. Caleb felt his body respond forcefully. He shifted uncomfortably and Maggie shifted too, as if they were linked by an invisible thread. He stilled.
In repose, her lips went into what looked almost like a petulant moue. He wanted to bend his head and kiss her soft mouth. He wanted to have her wake and look at him with sleepy eyes, smile and turn into him, giving herself to him. But he didn’t. Because he knew that if he was to wake her with a kiss, she’d look at him first with surprise, but then with censure…and, without wanting to question why, he knew he didn’t want that. When he made love to her he wanted her eyes to be open, aware of every moment and darkened with passion—when he took her for the first time.
In a split second she had shifted and moved even closer, a hand reaching out, finding his chest and resting there. As if to test him. Small and pale against the darkness of his skin. Fingers curling softly. His jaw clenched with the effort not to give in to temptation and very gently and slowly he extricated himself and went to take a shower. A cold one. On the bed behind him Maggie stirred but did not wake.
WHEN Maggie did wake it took a minute to figure out where she was. She felt completely refreshed, as though she’d had the most restorative sleep in her life. Stretching under the covers, she smiled to herself and then stopped. The feel of the slinky silk material on her body was all too alien.
She remembered exactly where she was.
Sitting