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‘Yes, I know,’ Abby said, her thoughts whirling along with her stomach. If Ethan Grant was willing to pay two thousand for her company, might he pay more? Three thousand, perhaps? ‘Up front and in advance’, he’d promised. If he agreed to her counter-proposal, she’d be able to give Miss Blanchford the money before Wednesday.
Of course, she would tell her that the police had recovered the money. Her old ballet teacher was very proud and would never accept charity. On top of that, she might ask Abby some sticky questions about where the money had come from.
‘Come now, Miss Blanchford,’ Abby urged. ‘Dry your tears. The woman who put me through my paces at the bar would not succumb to self-pity. Neither would she despair so quickly. Give the police a chance. And promise me you won’t cancel that man coming on Wednesday.’
‘All right, Abby.’ The old lady found a watery smile from somewhere. ‘Whatever would I do without you?’
‘You’d do just fine, like always,’ Abby reassured her old friend. Privately, however, she wasn’t so sure. The once seemingly indestructible old lady was looking very frail today.
‘I still can’t get over my good fortune in your coming to live here. You’re so good to me, Abby. Reading to me and playing cards with me. You’re not going to move out after you get a full-time job, are you? I know this is not the nicest place in the world...’
Nice! It was a dump—the old house crumbling around them. But it was cheap, and only a short train ride from the city centre. She’d been given the address by a cellmate, and had hoped that she wouldn’t need it. She’d hoped to be able to live at home.
But when she’d arrived at the house the day she’d been let out of prison six months earlier, there had been a message from her father saying that she was not welcome there, though he’d magnanimously said that she could take her personal belongings. She’d been so upset, however, that she’d left the house without taking anything, relying instead on the clothes she’d brought from prison.
The decrepit old boarding house had come as a bit of a shock to begin with, but not as much of a shock as the inhabitant of the downstairs front room.
Miss Blanchford had taught Abby ballet from the age of three till Abby had been shipped off to a private boarding school during her twelfth year. She hadn’t seen her dance teacher since then, but had never forgotten her, having always admired her staunch sense of selfdiscipline. She probably had Miss Blanchford to thank for instilling in her enough strength of character to sustain her during her dark days in prison.
It seemed that Miss Blanchford had never forgotten Abby either, her face lighting up with pleasure once she recognised her old pupil. She and Abby had talked for ages, and Abby had told her everything that had happened to her in the intervening years. It had been wonderful to find a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to cry on.
Miss Blanchford’s friendship meant the world to Abby, and she could not bear to see the old lady so unhappy. She vowed to do whatever was necessary to get her the money she needed for that wheelchair. She leant forward and patted the old lady’s knees. They felt very thin and bony through the crocheted rug.
‘Now, don’t you go worrying,’ she said softly. ‘If I ever move then you’ll come with me. And we’re going to get you that wheelchair, come hell or high water!’
At eight that evening, Abby set about putting her mouth where her vows were. She walked down to the telephone booth on the corner and dialled Ethan Grant’s home number. It killed her to lower her pride this way, but, given that there was no viable alternative, Abby resolved to do it with style—priority number one being that her lordly employer never twig onto her unfortunate weakness in finding him attractive.
‘Ethan Grant speaking,’ he answered coolly, and another of those erotic shivers rippled down Abby’s spine. Damn, but he did have an incredibly sensual voice, once one was attuned to it.
‘Abigail Richmond here, Dr Grant,’ she said as soon as she’d gathered herself.
‘Ah yes, Miss Richmond. I’ve been expecting your call.’
Abby hoped that her counter-proposal would wipe some of the smugness out of that sexy damned voice.
‘I’ve thought about your offer, Dr Grant,’ she said in a marvellously matter-of-fact tone, ‘and I’ve decided I should be able to accommodate you...’ She paused just long enough for his male ego to swell further before adding, ‘For a price, that is.’
His sharply indrawn breath rasped down the line, followed by a few seconds of taut silence.
‘I’ve already offered you two thousand dollars,’ he resumed at last, not a trace of sexiness left in his voice. It was as cold as an arctic blizzard. ‘I would have thought that more than sufficed for the job.’
‘I’m sorry, but it doesn’t.’
‘I see,’ he grated out, with a derisive edge added to the chilly reproach. ‘How much would be enough, then?’
‘Three thousand.’
‘That’s one thousand a day!’
‘That’s my price, Dr Grant. Take it or leave it.’
His laughter surprised then unnerved her. ‘Oh, I’ll take it, Miss Richmond, but only on one condition.’
‘And what condition is that?’
‘I don’t have to change the room booking. Frankly, for reasons which I have no intention of explaining, I would prefer to pretend we were lovers, not just friends. Naturally I do not expect you to sleep in the same bed with me. I will make sure our room has a convertible sofa which will guarantee separate sleeping arrangements.’
‘And if I say no?’
‘Then you say no, and I’ll make other arrangements.’
Abby only had to think of Miss Blanchford’s despairing depression to know that she would never say no. But she detested Ethan Grant for manoeuvring her into a corner like this.
Still, there was no point in prolonging the agony. It would only add to her humiliation. Better to agree immediately, letting him think that she wasn’t at all fazed by this change.
‘All right,’ she said with a superbly blithe offhandedness. ‘I appreciate that for three thousand you can call the shots. But I want it all up front and in advance, as you promised.’
Once again, Ethan fell silent on the other end.
Had she surprised him? Shocked him, even?
Too bad. This was business—the business of healing an old lady’s heart and giving her back a reason to live. She had no sympathy for Ethan Grant’s feelings. Any man who offered money for a woman’s company got what he deserved. Which was nothing.
‘I’ll send you the money by courier tomorrow,’ he said in a faintly sneering tone. Clearly she hadn’t surprised him at all, Abby realised. She’d acted exactly as he expected women of her ilk to act—like a mercenary-minded bitch!
‘Cash, please,’ she snapped, goaded into speaking sharply by a fierce inner fury. Couldn’t he see that he was the more contemptuous person, for offering her money in the first place?
‘Naturally.’
Abby scooped in then let out a shuddering sigh. It was done and couldn’t be undone. God, but she wished that she didn’t feel so low. Anyone would think that she’d just hired herself out body and soul for life, instead of just her companionship for three miserable days.
‘I suppose we should get down to details while we’ve got the opportunity,’ he said abruptly. ‘I don’t want Sylvia to know anything. This is just between you and me. As far as my sister is concerned, I’ll be going to this conference on my own. You must give me your word on that, Abby.’
Abby was thrown for a moment by this second use of her first name. Till she accepted that he could hardly keep calling her Miss Richmond. She wasn’t about to argue about Sylvia not knowing either. Really, the whole situation was a tad tawdry.
And slightly mystifying.
She wondered why Ethan was so keen to have his colleagues believe his companion was his lover. Did he have a reputation as a stud to uphold? Or did he have some other secret reason for such a pretence?
Something—some feminine instinct—rang a warning bell at the back of her mind. There was more to this than met the eye...
But Abby could not allow herself to be swayed by worries and qualms of such an indefinite nature. Three thousand dollars beckoned. Three thousand very real, very vital dollars. Ethan’s motivation for such a sham was his business. All she had to do was collect the money then play the appropriate part.
Maybe what she was really worrying about was how difficult playing that part might be. She hoped she wouldn’t make a fool of herself and betray her own secret. Despite not liking Ethan Grant one little iota on a personality basis, she could not think about him any more without thinking of making love with him.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘FIRST things first,’ Ethan continued abruptly. ‘Your clothes.’
‘My clothes?’ she repeated blankly, her mind still back on her perturbing weakness for the man.
‘You do own something other than that black skirt and white blouse you wear every Friday, don’t you?’
Abby thought of all the designer clothes hanging up in her wardrobe at home in Killara. They wouldn’t really have dated, being timeless classical styles. She didn’t doubt they would still be there either. She would have no trouble getting them if she went during the day, when her father was at the office.
‘Actually, I have quite an extensive wardrobe,’ she replied coolly, resenting both the criticism and scepticism built into his question.
‘Yes, but what type of clothes?’ he countered derisively. ‘You must appreciate any lady friend of mine will be expected to be well dressed. Nothing cheap or flashy.’
‘I am never cheap or flashy.’
‘You’re certainly not cheap, I’ll give you that,’ he muttered drily. ‘And other than one wayward button, you haven’t been flashy either. So far,’ he added cynically. ‘But I wouldn’t like any nasty little surprises once we get down to the hotel. Which reminds me—there’s nothing in your past or present which would preclude you taking this job, is there?’
One very good reason catapulted into Abby’s mind and she gulped. Surely there wouldn’t be anyone at this conference who knew about her trial or her sentence? It had not been in any of the papers. Her father hadn’t been prepared to help her with a decent lawyer, but he had used his influence to suppress any publicity.
‘Such as what?’ she asked, guilt making her sharp.
‘God only knows. You haven’t graced the centrefold of any of the better known men’s magazines, have you? Or any of the lesser ones, for that matter. I’m well aware that Sylvia hired you without checking into your background too extensively. I didn’t come down in the last shower, Abby. When a girl’s hard up for money and has a figure as good as yours, she might be talked into doing things not too savoury.’
Any guilt disappeared as Abby almost blew a gasket. Not too savoury! What in hell did he think she was doing now, going away with him? Lord, who did he think he was, looking down his nose at her when he was the one paying for her dubious companionship? As for her figure... She was fed up with him equating her lush curves with loose morals.
‘I’ve never done a thing I’m ashamed of, Dr Grant,’ she said with cold dignity. Till now, that is, she added silently. ‘Believe me when I say I will do you proud as your...er... girlfriend. You won’t have cause to complain.’
‘Mmm. That’s to be seen, isn’t it? By the way, can you play tennis at all?’
‘Yes, but I...’
‘You don’t have to be proficient,’ he cut in dismissively. ‘Adequate will do. I suppose it’s too much to ask if you can play golf as well?’
His patronising tone made Abby seethe. She’d only been going to say that she didn’t have a racket.
If I ever get him on a tennis-court or a golf-course... she vowed blackly. Thank you, Father, for all those holidays filled with never-ending lessons. You did do something for me after all.
‘Actually, I do play golf. A little,’ she added, not wanting to give the enemy advance warning.
‘You’ve surprised me, Miss Richmond. I would have thought your talents lay elsewhere than on the sporting field.’
Abby decided to ignore that remark. He would keep. ‘I wish you’d make up your mind what you’re going to call me,’ she said waspishly. ‘One minute it’s Abby, and then we’re back to Miss Richmond.’
‘You’re quite right. But I don’t feel altogether comfortable calling you Abby. Shall we compromise and make it Abigail?’
‘Whatever you wish. You’re the boss. Just so long as I know where I stand and what to expect. Speaking of what to expect, I’m not going to get any nasty little surprises when we get to the hotel, am I?’
The silence on the line was electric for a few seconds. Abby had no doubts now that Ethan had some hidden agenda at this conference, and it was beginning to niggle her.
‘Meaning?’ he asked coldly.
Meaning what are you up to, you conniving devil? she wanted to say. What is making you pay three thousand dollars to have me there as your pretend lover?
‘Meaning you wouldn’t be the first man I’ve come across who was a wolf in gentleman’s clothing,’ she tossed back instead. ‘I don’t want to have to fight you off every night.’
He laughed drily. ‘How beautifully blunt you can be, Abigail. I rather admire it. Actually, I rather admire you. You are a girl of rare spirit and a quite tantalisingly enigmatic character. On top of that, you’ve never resorted to the manipulative ploys an attractive female in your position might be tempted to use. But, no... you don’t have to worry about fighting me off. Rape has never appealed to me, and seducing you is not part of my plan.’
‘What plan?’ Abby just had to say, not believing his back-handed compliments for one moment. He despised her for some reason, and had never bothered to hide that fact. Maybe he despised all females with a bust size over AA?
‘That, my dear Abigail,’ he drawled, ‘is none of your business.’
And that, my dear Doctor, is an evasion.
But she didn’t say it. It really wasn’t a wise course of action to persist, not if she wanted that three thousand dollars.
‘Fair enough, Doctor. You can keep your little secret.’
‘Ethan.’
‘What?’
‘Call me Ethan.’
‘Oh... oh, yes, I suppose I’ll have to. I hope I’ll remember.’
‘Have a practice right now, then. Say yes, Ethan. No, Ethan. Three bags full, Ethan.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘Say it,’ he bit out.
Abby quivered deep inside at his darkly forceful tone.
‘Y-yes, Ethan,’ she started hesitantly. Then, ‘No, Ethan,’ much more firmly, followed by, ‘Three bags full, Ethan,’ in a dry, challenging tone.
‘See?’ he scorned. ‘You didn’t have any trouble at all. Though perhaps you could practise putting a little more warmth into my name between now and Friday. Say it the way you just did in the presence of others and they’ll think you want to kill me, not kiss me.’
Well, they’d be wrong, she thought ruefully. She wanted to do both. Kill him and kiss him. Damn, but she was actually enjoying sparring with him this way. It had a decidedly sexual edge to it. Abby was hotly aware that her pulse had started racing and that her cheeks were quite flushed with an unbidden excitement. Thank the Lord they were on the phone and be couldn’t see her.
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ she said, surprised by her cool tone. Heavens, she was a much better actress than she’d realised. Who knew? Maybe she might just be able to pull this fiasco off without getting her fingers burnt. If she started getting too hot and bothered over the sexy surgeon, she would simply remember Dillon. Thinking of that bastard always had a chilling effect. If that failed, she would concentrate on a simple survival. Now that she’d lost her weekend job, she needed her Friday job more than ever.
‘Tell me the agenda for Friday,’ she said in a businesslike tone. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘We’re supposed to arrive at Bungarla some time between three and five. I’m still operating on the Friday morning, and I do have a patient who’s travelling down from the country to see me that day as well. I told her to meet me at my rooms at one.’
‘Do you want me to come in as usual, then?’
‘No. That’s not necessary. Be at the surgery by one-thirty. I should be finished by then. I’m told the trip down to Bungarla shouldn’t take any more than two hours.’
‘What do you think I should wear for the trip down?’
‘Something casual, but smart. It’ll be pretty cool down that way of an evening in the autumn, so pop in a jacket as well. And don’t forget to pack suitable clothes for tennis and golf. Oh, and throw in a swimsuit. According to the brochure they sent, there’s a heated pool.’
