The Abby Green Modern Collection. Эбби Грин
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Caleb’s eyes. They were shadowed. God. Was he looking at her with pity? Did he suspect for one second how much this was killing her?
He couldn’t.
She feigned the best look of delayed surprised comprehension that she could. ‘Oh! So this is it? You’re letting me go…’
His mouth tightened. ‘Well, technically, I could insist that you come to London with me; you’ve got one week to work out the contract.’
Maggie stood, galvanised by shock, the bile rising in her throat. He saw the way she paled, remembered her reaction on seeing the contract for the first time. ‘As far as I recall, the contract stated two months or the duration of your stay in Dublin…so technically, if your stay is up tomorrow, then we’re out of contract.’
He looked at her steadily for a long moment. A muscle twitched in his jaw. He couldn’t deceive her. ‘Actually, I have to confess something. That contract was a bogus document…’
Her mouth opened, her jaw dropped.
‘When you reminded me about it in Monte Carlo, I drew something up myself on the computer. It was only to reassure you that I was going to keep my word.’
And he had. Her mother had signed papers already, so the house was legally back in her name. This made something drop out of Maggie’s chest.
‘So…no one ever looked at it? No one witnessed it?’
He shook his head.
She wasn’t sure how to take this, how to react. ‘Well…thank you.’ She backed away behind the chair. The same chair she’d stood behind that night, when she’d come to beg for the house. ‘But then…if there’s no contract…then there’s nothing to stop me just leaving…walking away.’
‘I guess not,’ he said heavily.
‘You’re leaving tomorrow…’
‘Yes.’
He looked at her. She was biting her lip. He wanted to go over and take her in his arms, slip his tongue between those soft lips, feel her response as he delved in deep and stroked, enticed…but, for some reason, he couldn’t. They’d gone over a line. He was letting her go. So why did it feel as though his heart was being ripped from his chest? Why did it feel as if this woman standing in front of him was the only woman on the planet who he’d ever desire again?
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘This is it…’
‘Maggie.’
She met his eyes warily.
‘You could come to London with me…This doesn’t have to end here. Now that your mother has the house…we could go on…you could move in with me…’
She backed away, shaking her head. ‘Never,’ she said in a thin voice. ‘Never. You’ll never trust me, Caleb. You’ll never respect me. And I won’t warm your bed until the next woman comes along. I’ve paid my dues.’
He stiffened. Damned if he’d let her see what her words were doing to him. He shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Whatever you want, Maggie.’
Something lit her eyes, a desperation. ‘What I want is to go today. I’m going to go and pack now. When you get back, I’ll be gone. I can’t stay another night.’ Then she said, ‘Please, don’t make me…’
She wanted to get away from him that badly? He felt a granite block weigh him down in his chest. His face closed, eyes shuttered. His mouth was a grim line.
‘If you could be gone by the time I get back, I’d prefer it.’
Maggie walked to the door, her legs having bypassed shaking, had gone straight to wooden shock. She turned back for the last time and faced him.
‘I never want to see you again.’
And she went out the door.
Caleb’s heart was thumping when he let himself into the apartment. He’d seen the Mini Cooper parked outside…She hadn’t gone…Did that mean she’d decided to stay on, as his mistress? But as soon as he walked in the door he knew she was gone. Even though her scent lingered on the air, the place felt flat, devoid of energy.
He saw the car key on the hall table. And a note.
I can’t accept the car…or anything else. All the best in your future, Caleb. Maggie.
It fluttered to the floor out of his fingers. Sure enough, when he walked into the bedroom, all the clothes were neatly laid out in bags, labelled up for the relevant shops. And all the jewellery was on the dressing table in each individual box. She hadn’t kept one thing.
Why?
Inexplicably, this made him sick. If she’d taken everything, as he’d expected her to, it would have made him feel…somehow justified. But wasn’t this typical of her? He sat down heavily on the bed. Every step along the way, she had consistently surprised him by not acting the way he’d thought she would. He got up and went out to the terrace. For the first time in his life, he felt at a loss, didn’t know what to do…felt impotent. He wanted Maggie. So badly he could taste it.
As he looked out over the city, felt the ache spreading through his limbs, he knew it. And had to acknowledge it. She’d got so far and so deep under his skin…that he’d fallen for her. He slammed a hand down on the railing. Who was he kidding? He’d fallen for her back in London. And, despite everything she’d done…he was so far in love with her now…that he knew he’d never find a way back.
And she never wanted to see him again. Karma. Revenge.
He left the view and went back in, slamming the door shut behind him so forcefully that the windows shuddered. And the next day, when he got on the plane to go back to London, his face was so grim and stern that no one dared speak to him.
‘AND the stock shares went through the roof; they just didn’t know how to handle the ramifications…’
Caleb tuned out the conversation. His mind couldn’t settle and the heavy weight lodged in his chest was threatening to choke him. All he could see, all he could think about, was Maggie. She was everywhere he looked, but only in his mind’s eye. He took in the glittering London crowd that surrounded him. The women were beautiful, stunning, bedecked in jewels. Hair perfectly teased, too thin bodies poured into the latest fashions. And it all seemed so vacuous. Meaningless.
He felt cold when he looked at them and studiously avoided their none too subtle glances from right under the noses of their partners. Several times he’d had to catch himself when he’d turned to his side as if to get Maggie’s attention, touch her, have her look up at him with those luminous, wide eyes that said so much and yet held back so much. A sense of panic rose and he couldn’t contain it as he imagined never finding out what she’d hidden in those unfathomable depths or never seeing her again. Never waking up beside her, never holding her, talking to her. Seeing her face light up. And yet…how could he have these feelings for someone who had done…what she had, for someone who patently didn’t feel the same way?
‘…Holland…’
‘What?’ Caleb said sharply as his focus zoomed in on the man looking at him expectantly. Had he just conjured up her name from his pathetic imaginings?
‘Holland. Not wanting to speak ill of the dead or anything, but he was one nasty piece of work; it’s only a pity he didn’t live to see you in control of everything. That really was some coup, Cameron.’
Caleb smiled tightly; he’d never have wished Holland’s ultimate fate on him, no matter what kind of a man he’d been and disliked the inference, but before he could cut in his associate was continuing.
‘Now that he’s gone and can’t keep