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Abby and the Bachelor Cop / Misty and the Single Dad: Abby and the Bachelor Copy / Misty and the Single Dad
Abby and the Bachelor Cop / Misty and the Single Dad: Abby and the Bachelor Copy / Misty and the Single Dad
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Abby and the Bachelor Cop / Misty and the Single Dad: Abby and the Bachelor Copy / Misty and the Single Dad

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She should break away. She could break away, she thought wildly. He was only holding her chin—nothing more. She could step back, get into the car and drive home.

To Philip.

She could. But he was gazing down into her eyes and he was still asking questions.

‘So tell me he makes you sizzle.’

‘I …’

‘He doesn’t, does he?’ Raff said in grim satisfaction. ‘But there are guys out there who could—who could find out what you’re capable of—what’s beneath your prissy lawyer uniform. Because you’re still there, somewhere. The Abby I … ‘

He paused. There was a moment’s loaded silence when the whole world stilled. The Abby I …

She should push away. She should …

She couldn’t.

She tilted her face, just a little.

The moment stretched on. The darkness stretched on.

And then he kissed her. As inevitably as time itself, he kissed her.

She couldn’t move. She didn’t move. She froze. And then.

Heat. Fire. The contact, lips against lips, was a tiny point but that point sizzled, caught, burned and her whole body started heating. Her face was tilted to his but he had no need to hold her. It was as if she was melting against him—into him.

Raff …

He broke away, just a little, and his eyes blazed in the moonlight. ‘Abby,’ he said and it was a rough, angry whisper. ‘Abby.’

‘I …’

‘Does he do this?’ he demanded. He snagged her arms and held them behind her but this was no forceful hold. It was as if her arms might get in the way, could interfere, and nothing must. Nothing could.

She was paralysed, she was burning, but she couldn’t escape. She didn’t want to escape. What was between them … It sizzled. Tugged as if searching for oxygen.

He was watching her in the moonlight, his eyes questioning. She wouldn’t answer. She couldn’t.

She was being held by Raff. A man she’d once loved.

She found herself lifting herself, tiptoe.

So her mouth could meet his again.

This morning she’d fantasised about Raff Finn. Sex on legs. But this …

If she’d expected anything it was a kiss of anger, a kiss of sexual tension, passion, nothing more. And maybe it had started like that. But it was changing.

His kiss was tender, aching, even loving. It was as unexpected as ice within a fire, heating, cooling, sizzling all at once. She’d never felt anything like this—she’d never known sensations like this could exist.

Raff.

He’d released her hands and they were free to do as she willed. Her will was that her hands were behind his back, drawing him closer, for how could she not want him close?

Sense had flown. Thoughts had flown. There was only this man. There was only this need.

There was only now.

Raff.

Did she say his name?

Maybe she did, or maybe it was just a sigh, deep in her throat, a sound of pure sensual pleasure. Of taking something she’d never dreamed she could have. Of sinking into the forbidden, of the longed for, of a memory she’d have to put away quite soon but not yet, please, not yet.

Oh, but his mouth … Clever and warm and beguiling, it was coaxing her to places she had no business going, but she wanted, oh, she wanted to be there. She was helpless, melting into him, degree by achingly wonderful degree.

He was irresistible.

She was … appalled.

Somehow, she had to break this. Her head was screaming at her, neon danger signs flashing through her sensual need. No!

‘No!’ It came out a muffled whisper. If he didn’t hear … if he ignored it, how could she say it again?

Did she want him to hear it?

But he did, he had, and the wrench as he put her away from him was indescribable. He let her go. He stepped back from her and his eyes in the moonlight were almost as dazed as hers.

But then his face hardened, tightened, and she knew he was moving on.

As she must.

Her mother’s voice…. Keep away from the Finn boy. He’s trouble.

He surely was. She was kissing him nine days before her wedding. She was risking all—for the Finn boy?

‘I …’

‘Just go, Abby,’ he said and she didn’t recognise his voice. It was harsh and raw and she could even imagine there was pain. ‘Get out of here. You know you don’t want this.’

‘Of course I don’t.’

‘Then take your dog and go. I’ll see you in court.’

Of course she would. She’d see him and he’d be back to being the local cop and she’d be a lawyer sitting beside her fiancé, trying to pretend tonight had never happened.

But it had happened. The feel of his mouth on hers was with her still.

She caught herself, gasped and thumped down into the driver’s seat before she could change her mind.

‘That was ridiculous,’ she managed. ‘How…. how dare you …?’

‘You wanted it as much as I did.’

‘Then we’re both stupid.’

‘We are,’ he said gravely. ‘We were. But heaven help us, Abby, if we’re stupid still.’

CHAPTER FIVE

ABBY drove home in a daze. She felt ill. The feel of Raff’s mouth on hers wouldn’t go—it felt as if her lips were surely bruised and yet she knew they couldn’t be.

There had been tenderness in his kiss. It hadn’t been onesided. He hadn’t been brutal.

It had been a kiss of …

No. Don’t even think about it.

Kleppy put out his paw in a gesture she was starting to know. Giving comfort as well as taking it. The feel of him beside her was absurdly comforting.

Almost as if he was a little part of Raff …

And there was a dopey thing to think. The whole night had been dopey, she thought. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Imagine if she ever thought there could be anything between herself and Raff. Imagine the heartbreak.

Her heart clenched down. No! Just because the man was a load of semi-controlled testosterone … Just because he had the ability to push her buttons …

She turned into her street and Philip’s car was out the front. Her heart sank.

Philip, she told herself. Not a load of semi-controlled testosterone. A good, kind man who’d keep her happy—who’d keep her safe.

I might get tired of safe, she whispered to herself and then she let herself open her mind to the rush of memory that was

Ben and she felt the concept of safe, the need for safe, close around her again. Safe was the only way.

‘Hi,’ she said, climbing from the car. ‘The buck’s night finished early, then?’

‘Hardly a buck’s night.’ He took her hands and kissed her and she had to stop herself from thinking dry as dust. ‘Just my dad and uncles and cousins.’

‘Why aren’t you having a buck’s night?’

‘Tonight was enough,’ Philip said contentedly. ‘I’m busy right up to the honeymoon. Where have you …’

But then he paused. Inside the car, Kleppy had stirred and yawned and whimpered a little.

‘What’s that?’

Deep breath. ‘It’s Kleppy.’

‘Kleppy?’

‘He’s my dog,’ she said and she had a really good shot at not sounding defensive. Maybe she even succeeded. ‘You know Raff gave me a dog this morning and asked me to take him to be put down? I couldn’t. He’s Isaac Abrahams’ dog, he needs a new home and I’ve decided to keep him. Sarah’s been looking after him for me.’

There was no need to mention Raff again. ‘So we have a dog,’ she said and she surprised herself by sounding cheerful. ‘Philip, meet Kleppy. Kleppy, meet Philip. I just know you two are going to be best of friends.’

He didn’t like it, but she wouldn’t budge; she didn’t budge and finally he conceded.

‘It’ll have to sleep outside.’

‘He, not it.’

‘He’ll have to sleep outside,’ he conceded—no mean concession.

‘Okay,’ she said with her fingers crossed behind her back. He could sleep outside for a little, she thought, until Philip got used to the idea and then she could sort of sneak him in. And for the next nine nights he could sleep inside at her place.

‘And what about our honeymoon?’

‘I’ll get Mrs Sanderson to feed and walk him.’

‘She’ll charge.’

‘We can afford it.’

‘I don’t want Eileen Sanderson snooping in our backyard.’

‘I’ll figure something else out, then. But you’ll love him.’

‘If you want a dog, then why don’t we get a pure-bred?’ he asked, checking Kleppy out with suspicion.

‘I like Kleppy.’

‘And Finn dumped him on you.’

‘It was my decision to keep him.’

‘You’re too soft-hearted.’

‘I can’t do a thing about that,’ she admitted, knowing the hurdle had been leaped and she was over the other side. ‘You want to come in for coffee and get acquainted with our new pet?’

‘I have work to do. I’m not confident about tomorrow.’

He would be confident, Abby knew, but he’d still go over his notes until he knew them backwards. And once again she wondered—why had he come back to Banksia Bay? He was smart, he was ambitious, he could have made serious money in the city.

‘I came back for you,’ he’d told her, over and over, but she knew it was more than that. He spent time with her parents. He worked at the yacht club where Ben had once sailed. Every time a challenge occurred that might draw him to the city, he looked at it with regret but he still turned back to Banksia Bay.

She kissed him goodnight and carried Kleppy inside, thinking every time she laid down an ultimatum Philip caved in.

This dog or no wedding?