The Abby Green Modern Collection. Эбби Грин
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the same for her. She couldn’t afford to appear anything less than willing from now on. For as long as he desired her. And she knew that as terrified as she was of the response he evoked in her physically, it was the emotional minefield at the other end that worried her most.
He pulled her close into his body with one arm, his other hand cradling her head and threading through the silky strands of her hair. His mouth touched hers.
With flames of desire licking along every vein, Maggie finally gave in and, for the first time since seeing him again, even though they’d already kissed, she kissed him back. With full consciousness. Because, despite everything, she wanted to. Because she couldn’t not. This was as necessary to her as breathing. Her mind fought a pathetic battle for a few seconds; it must be the surroundings…the feeling that somehow they were not in the real world, that was making her behave like this…She just couldn’t help it.
With a moan of approval, he felt her tacit acquiescence and tightened the embrace. His tongue sought hers and sweetly stroked and explored and plundered. Maggie gave into powerful desire and slid her hands up his arms. She could feel the bunched muscle under the thin material of his shirt and desperately wanted to be able to feel the silky skin, explore the texture of his muscles, feel how they shifted…changed contours as he held her.
When he finally lifted his head, he pressed another quick kiss to her mouth as though he was loath to let her go. Maggie felt dizzy and light-headed. The only thing holding her upright was his arm anchoring her to him. She hated herself for this; he had her exactly where he wanted her. Acquiescent and pliant, in his arms. And there was nothing she could do except…comply.
‘I won’t have much time later so I’ll have my tux delivered to me and meet you in the hotel bar before the function.’ He let her go and pushed her gently in the direction of the hotel. Before she could be completely humiliated, she turned and briskly walked into the hotel, without a backward glance.
DISMISSING the car and deciding to walk back to his meeting, which was just a few minutes away, Caleb’s mind raced. That kiss…and Maggie filled his senses so much that the thought of work was a thorn in his side. His step became more brisk, as if he could put distance between himself and his uncomfortable thoughts. He’d had other mistresses, lots…what was the problem now? Maggie was just another one. Then he remembered reluctantly that, walking down a street in London some weeks before and seeing the back of a petite redhead, his pulse had quickened through his body with such force that he’d been shaking by the time he’d caught up with her, only to find that she was nothing like Maggie. The force of need that had ripped through him had disturbed him more than he’d cared to admit at the time.
Was that what had spurred him to see her again? To wreak the final, devastating revenge? Because he hated the pull she still had over him?
He berated himself inwardly for giving rein to such thoughts. Applied the stern logic he was famed for. He desired her and she’d offered him the key he’d needed to make her his mistress, that was all. She was just the next in line, however she’d come to him. Reluctantly or not. And the jury was still out on whether or not she had manipulated events from the word go. She had, after all, been instrumental in a bid to see him crushed. He could never afford to forget that. Could never trust her.
But now, after just hours in Maggie’s company—a woman who didn’t even pretend to like him—for the first time ever he was suddenly wishing for an afternoon off. Why on earth was he suddenly questioning the control he wielded that didn’t make it easy for him to walk away on a whim? It was desire pure and simple. Even if it was a more powerful desire than he’d ever experienced, still, that’s all it was. Nothing else. Yet…
Yet nothing…
He hated the thought that he could very well be dancing to her tune…still.
As she waited that evening for the lift to arrive, Maggie’s reflection stared back from the mirrored door. She felt a little unrecognisable. Having always rebelled at Tom’s attempts to get her to ‘dress up’, she had never normally made much of an effort.
And yet now…she suddenly felt the urge? a small mocking voice jeered in her ear. Still, she was glad she’d made the effort, she told herself defiantly, pressing the button again with undue force, a quiver of butterflies taking flight in her belly when the bell pinged loudly, announcing the lift’s arrival.
Caleb nursed a whiskey in the dark bar as he waited. He drew admiring, openly covetous looks from every woman there. He knew it, could feel it, was always aware of it, but let it roll off him like droplets of water off a duck’s back. The only gaze he sought right now was a green-eyed one. Except it was more likely to be combative than covetous, despite her acquiescence earlier.
He was steeled to see her again. All defences raised. She’d invaded his thoughts all afternoon, had made him lose his concentration, his focus. He’d found himself on the verge of agreeing to a merger that would have cost him millions until he’d woken up at the last moment. This is what she’d done before. And, after the call he’d just taken from his assistant in Dublin, he knew she was up to a lot more than wanting her house back for her poor, supposedly innocent, mother. She was up to a whole lot more.
A distinct hush fell over the already muted tones of conversation in the bar. The hairs stood up on the back of Caleb’s neck as he looked up slowly from his glass. Maggie stood in the doorway. His chest grew tight and his breathing constricted as he drank in the sight of her. She looked…stunning.
He could see her eyes dart around the room and knew she wouldn’t see him straight away as he was partially hidden, a force of habit. She wore a dark olive-coloured dress, the flowing folds meeting in a deep V over an empire-line that rested just under her bosom, the pale voluptuous swells hinting at other hidden curves. Her hair was held back from one side and swept over her other shoulder in a thick russet wave. She stood out from every other woman there, with their overdone, overtight bodies and faces. Like a glowing pearl against dark coral.
His hand tightened reflexively on the glass when her gaze caught his and an immediate flush of colour entered her cheeks. She moved towards him and for a split second he had the strongest urge to leave, run…get away. As if he was on a collision course with a very definite yet unknown danger.
And then she stopped in front of him and he was still there. She looked up at him, the almond shape of her eyes accentuated with kohl and a clean, fresh scent which intoxicated his nostrils. He summoned all of his skill and experience to bring the guard down over his conflicting emotions. He stood. ‘If you’re ready, let’s go.’
Maggie searched his face for some clue of what he was thinking but could see nothing. He hadn’t even said if he thought she looked okay. He took her hand possessively and led her out to the foyer entrance, where a sleek car pulled up and he guided her into the back before following. Back in the bar he’d been so brusque she hadn’t had a chance to get her breath, since it had been taken by the sight of him. But now she took him in surreptitiously. He was even more handsome in the tuxedo, his hair smoothed back, highlighting the strong forehead, the aquiline line of his nose.
But he didn’t look happy. After hesitating for a moment, she couldn’t help asking, ‘Is…is everything okay?’
He shot her a brooding look.
‘You just seem a little preoccupied…is it work?’
‘What’s this?’ he sneered. ‘The nice, caring, considerate Maggie? Trying to lull me into a false sense of security…charm me?’
‘What are you talking about?’
Caleb knew he was being irrational and that he was reacting to something he wasn’t even aware of, but couldn’t stop. He wanted to push Maggie back to a safe distance.
‘You must have known I was close to bringing Holland to his knees—he certainly did. I don’t trust you for a second. I