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When she arrived back at the discreetly elegant office buildings of Grypton, Sommers & Evans in the English county town of Shrewsbury, Abby was still frowning over the unfairness of the situation. She stripped off her jacket and tossed it impatiently onto the coatstand, threw the Lane file into her wastepaper basket—there was no point in keeping that any longer—and dropped heavily into her chair.
The more she thought about the way Hallam Lane was controlling the situation, the more annoyed she became. Maybe she ought not to have given in so quickly; maybe she ought to have stood her ground, stuck up for Greg. He had looked truly disappointed. On the other hand, as Hallam had said, he was the one paying the bills—so ultimately it was his choice.
When the telephone rang she was surprised to hear her secretary say that she had Mr Lane on the line. ‘Hallam Lane?’ she queried, not even stopping to wonder why this man came into her thoughts first.
‘No, it’s Gregory, I think,’ replied Linda.
‘I see,’ Abby said slowly. ‘Put him on.’ Perhaps he had been able to persuade his father to think again. Stranger things had happened.
‘Hello, Greg, this is unexpected,’ she said, as soon as the call was put through. ‘Has your father changed his mind?’
‘Goodness, no,’ came the immediate response. ‘But he’s gone out and I want to say how sorry I am that I got you all the way out to the house for nothing. I really did think that once he’d seen you he would—’
‘You don’t have to apologise,’ she interrupted gently. ‘I meet all sorts in this job. It was nice of you to ring, though; I appreciate it.’
There was a slight pause before he spoke again. ‘It wasn’t simply to apologise for my father; I—I really want you to represent me. Will you do it?’ There was an earnest note in his voice now.
Abby’s brain went into fast forward as she realised the full implication of what he was asking. It could cause all sorts of problems if she went against the older man’s wishes, and at the very least it would generate friction between father and son. ‘I don’t think it would be very wise,’ she said. ‘Your father—’
‘This is my own decision,’ he cut in, surprising her with his determination.
‘Why didn’t you make this stand in front of him?’ she asked, frowning faintly into the phone.
‘Because I respect him, I guess,’ he told her wryly, ‘and rarely go against his wishes—and I especially didn’t think it wise, considering the trouble I’m already in,’ he added sorrowfully. ‘But I really do want you to help me, and I thought that if I presented him with a fait accompli he would be unable to do anything about it. I didn’t do that burglary, I promise you. I was—’
‘Greg,’ she cut in firmly, her mind suddenly made up, ‘I will do it, but only on condition that your father is in agreement. Talk to him again, tell him what you’ve told me, tell him you have confidence in me, that you find it easy to relate to me—better than you would an older person—and then come and see me. Shall we say ten o’clock in the morning?’
He agreed reluctantly and after she had put down the telephone Abby sat in thoughtful silence as she tried to visualise what the next meeting between father and son would be like. Somehow she could not see Hallam Lane agreeing to her taking on his son’s case, whatever Greg said. His dislike of career women was so intense that nothing would move him. She did not expect to see Greg again.
Pressure of work soon took over and the Lanes were forgotten. It was not until the day ended and she was in bed that Abby thought about either of them, and it was, not surprisingly, the elder man who was at the forefront of her mind.
It had been a shock to feel any sort of reaction to him. She had built up an automatic barrier where men were concerned, having discovered that most of them were arrogant and domineering and downright dismissive when faced with a successful career woman. Hallam Lane was no exception.
Why, then, had she felt this instant fascination? It could be dangerous, especially if Greg did manage to persuade his father to change his mind. Just the thought of seeing Hallam Lane again sent a flurry of sensation through her limbs. Lord, it was stupid. How could such a thing have happened?
She determinedly switched her mind to Greg, wondering how long he had been without a mother. It could be part of his problem. Had he been a troublesome child? It would be up to her to find out the history of this young man who had appealed to her for help—and how better than through his father?
A few minutes before ten the next morning her secretary rang through to announce that Mr Lane was waiting to see her.
‘Send him in,’ Abby said at once, feeling pleased that Greg had somehow managed to get round his father. She had not expected that. A ready smile played on her lips as the door opened but it faded instantly when it was the senior Lane who entered her room.
Not wanting to feel at a disadvantage where this big man was concerned, she jumped immediately to her feet and there were no preliminaries on either side. She had his measure now and was ready for him. She barred from her mind any sensual thoughts.
‘If you’re here to say that you forbid me to take Greg’s case then I think you’re making a very foolish mistake,’ she said firmly and clearly. ‘Greg trusts me and wants me and—’
‘You’re wasting your breath.’
Abby dragged her fine brows together. ‘I don’t think so. I happen to believe in your son.’ Hallam Lane wore a charcoal-grey suit this morning, emphasising the lean lines of his body but hiding none of its strength. She had made no mistake in remembering how destroyingly attractive to her senses he was.
‘I’m not here to denigrate you, Sommers,’ he said surprisingly. ‘You can handle Greg’s affairs.’ Dark, long-lashed eyes watched intently for her reaction—eyes so dark that they rendered the irises invisible.
Abby’s frown deepened and for an instant she felt at a disadvantage. ‘I don’t understand.’ And she wished she had dressed differently.
She wore a softly flared cotton dress in emerald-green which matched the colour of her eyes—and made her look even younger! A fact that she was sure had not gone unnoticed by her unexpected visitor.
Her hair was also unrestrained this morning, falling in a torrent of heavy waves about her shoulders, a flame of red that caught Hallam’s eyes and made him frown at her in silence for several long seconds.
She spoke before he could. ‘What has made you change your mind?’
‘Greg reminded me he is of an age to make his own decisions,’ he commented drily. ‘Not that I am totally in agreement with that. He has made some tragic mistakes in his young life.’
Even as he spoke his eyes were making a careful study of her mouth, and then they moved slowly downwards to rest on the pert thrust of her breasts, moulded so clearly by the fine green cotton. It was yet a further deliberate appraisal, perhaps designed to see what sort of reaction he got! Abby’s hackles rose.
‘If it is your intention to use sex as a weapon you’re wasting your time,’ she told him coolly and defensively. She could not deny that she felt something, that a trickle of awareness ran through her veins, but she was most certainly not going to let him see it.
‘Who’s talking about sex?’ he asked, a sardonic curve now to his mouth, a quirk to an eyebrow.
Abby glared. ‘I don’t like the way you’re looking at me, Mr Lane. In fact I find your whole attitude extremely offensive.’
Never had Abby spoken to a prospective client—or a client’s father—in such a manner, but there was something about this man that rubbed her up the wrong way, or was it because she was trying to defend herself? Was it her own sexuality that scared her, the way he managed to arouse her without even trying?
His smile widened, revealing a perfect set of white teeth. ‘I’m a red-blooded male, Sommers, admiring a beautiful lady. If you read anything more into it then you’re living up to my expectations.’
Abby’s head jerked and she gave a swift frown. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’
‘Aren’t all women the same?’ he jeered. ‘Especially when they work in a man’s world. I guess domesticity and a few children around your feet is the last thing you want. You earn good money; you’re free to have as many affairs as you wish. I imagine some men find excitement in dating successful career women, but personally I prefer someone who behaves like a real woman.’
Abby wondered what on earth had brought this on. ‘I’m sure I didn’t ask for any of this, Mr Lane,’ she said tightly. ‘I think you’re totally out of order and I think it might be best if you left’
She realised that she was jeopardising the chance he had given her of taking Greg’s case, but, heavens, she didn’t have to put up with his insults. She marched across to the door and opened it, discovering to her astonishment that his son was hovering outside.
Before she could speak, however, before she could even venture a smile, the door was firmly closed again, taken from her by a hand that was stronger and more insistent than her own. She turned furiously. ‘What the devil do you think you’re—?’
‘Just proving a point,’ he muttered, and she was pulled against the hardness of his body, immobilised by one firm hand behind her back and another behind her head. His lips unerringly found hers.
Abby was taken so much by surprise that for the first few seconds she was frozen, simply standing there and allowing the kiss, insane though it was. When finally she came back to life and began to fight, pummelling her fists against a rock-hard body, demanding that he let her go, she was perturbed to see tiny flames of desire in the blackness of his eyes.
Also, more frightening still was her own sizzling response to his compelling sensuality. It could not be stemmed, nor could she ignore it. It was by far the most scary thing that had ever happened to her.
It seemed an age before he finally released her—a whole lifetime of drumming, throbbing heartbeats and racing pulses, of a pagan rhythm that threatened to take over her whole body.
‘Well, well, well, Sommers,’ he said, his full lips curled in confident amusement, his eyes mocking. ‘You did not let me down.’
She threw him a swift, savage glance, though in truth it was herself, her own unaccountable behaviour that she was more angry with. ‘You’re despicable!’
‘And you’re incredibly beautiful when you’re angry—and also completely predictable.’
Abby’s body shook with anger; she was furious with both him and herself. ‘You’re deeply mistaken, Mr Lane. You have no idea at all what I am like. And do you know what? I feel sorry for Greg having a father like you; you’re the one who has no morals.’
He smiled—a highly dangerous smile—appearing not in the least perturbed by her harsh words. ‘Just remember,’ he warned, a steely glint now in his eyes, ‘I want no sentence passed against my son.’
She looked at him coolly and disdainfully. ‘It depends whether he is innocent, Mr Lane.’
‘It is up to you to prove that he is,’ he reminded her tersely.
‘Is it your good name you’re thinking of?’ Abby knew she was dicing with danger but restraint had long since flown out of the window where this man was concerned.
Black eyes glittered. ‘Just do the job you’re getting paid for.’ Then he yanked the door open and motioned his son to enter. Greg glanced from one to the other and it was obvious by his worried expression that he had heard their raised voices. ‘I’ll see you later, son,’ Hallam growled as he brushed past him and left the office.
Abby could have done with a few moments to pull herself together before talking to Greg.
‘It sounded as though my father was very angry,’ said the young man quietly.
She grimaced. ‘He was.’
‘He hasn’t changed his mind about—?’
‘Of course not,’ she assured him hastily.
‘Then what—?’
Again she interrupted. ‘It doesn’t matter, Greg.’ Her tone was soft and friendly, her eyes warm. She was in control of herself again. ‘Sit down. We have a lot of talking to do.’
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_0a94f3b8-50a9-518b-827f-37fe2fd7a98c)
ABBY hoped and prayed that she would see nothing more of Gregory Lane’s father. She was completely confused by the feelings he had aroused in her—angry with him for daring to kiss her, but even more so with herself for allowing it in the first place. The whole sequence of events had stirred her emotions to such an extent that she could not stop thinking about him.
She found Hallam Lane so undeniably attractive that it was the biggest pity in the world that he felt the way he did about career women. He was the sort of man she could have fallen for, the first one ever to make her sit up and take notice, who had sent her red blood corpuscles into a dizzying spin.
And unfortunately—for her peace of mind at any rate—he did not keep out of her life. He attended the initial court hearing and he also accompanied Greg the next time he came to see her.
When the two of them walked into her office Abby felt everything inside her flutter into chaos—every nerve-end, every pulse, each heartbeat. Determinedly, however, she stiffened her spine, hardened her tone and went straight into the attack. ‘I think you should let Greg handle his own affairs, Mr Lane.’
Today she was wearing a dusky pink skirt and matching silk blouse that should have clashed outrageously with her hair but somehow didn’t. Instead she managed to look deliciously feminine. She had taken her hair back into her nape with a big pink and gold slide, and gold hoop earrings hung from her ears.
Had she known that Greg’s father intended putting in an appearance she would most definitely have put on a plain dark suit and probably even a pair of tortoiseshell glasses! Anything to give herself a more professional image. Though, she had the uncomfortable feeling that nothing she wore would make one iota of difference where this man was concerned.
Black eyes locked into hers after they had made their now customary appraisal—during which time every single one of Abby’s senses raced into action. It was alarming the way her body reacted to him and she wished there was something she could do about it.
‘I happen to think,’ he said evenly, ‘that there is every need for me to be present’ His eyes continued to war with hers. ‘And I shall continue to attend until I’ve satisfied myself that you have sufficient experience to deal with my son’s case.’
He sounded so officious, so arrogant, so pompous that hostility prickled Abby’s spine now, all sensuous feelings flying, and she drew herself up tall, prepared to do battle. ‘Perhaps you’d like a word with one of my partners?’ she queried tartly. ‘I’m sure they’ll be more than willing to vouch for me.’
Greg stood at his father’s side, fidgeting and looking acutely uncomfortable. Abby felt sorry for him. He was caught in their crossfire and it couldn’t be good for his morale. It was such a pity that his father found it essential to interfere.
‘I don’t think that will be necessary,’ Hallam Lane answered evenly, as she had somehow expected he might. ‘But I would like Greg to leave us; I want a few words with you alone.’
Greg looked suddenly both startled and apprehensive, as she was herself, and he glanced at her hesitantly, as if asking what he should do.
Abby saw no reason why he should go out of the room, and she could not think what Hallam Lane had to say that could not be said in front of his son, but she also knew that the man would not go until he had got off his chest whatever was bothering him, so she gave Greg a slight nod and a faint smile, trying to reassure him.
When they were alone she stood tall, chin high, green eyes wary, her fingertips on the edge of the desk, and waited to hear what he had to say. Hallam Lane wore a navy suit and blue silk shirt and tie this morning, which seemed to emphasise his height and breadth. He looked every inch as dynamically attractive as before. Abby found her mouth growing dry simply by her looking at him.
‘Did Greg tell you that he has been in trouble before?’ he asked abruptly.
With an effort Abby dragged her attention away from the man and back to the business in hand. ‘As a matter of fact, no. But he is here again today so that we can further discuss—’
‘He wouldn’t have told you,’ he cut in, a faint harshness in his tone that told her how disappointed he was in his son.
‘I beg to differ,’ she said quickly and decisively. ‘Once I’ve built up a rapport with Greg, once he realises the importance of my knowing everything, I’m sure he will keep nothing from me. You should have faith in your son, Mr Lane.’
‘I must admit the boy seems to have taken a liking to you,’ he admitted grudgingly, his narrowed eyes watchful on hers.
‘It is important that he should,’ Abby replied, surprised and rather pleased by his statement. ‘And as a matter of fact I think that you’re insulting his intelligence by accompanying him everywhere he goes.’ She determinedly held his gaze. ‘Why don’t you give him some breathing space?’
‘Has he complained?’ His tone was suddenly sharpedged, his eyes suspicious.
Abby had not thought Hallam Lane would put this interpretation on her words and instantly shook her head. ‘Not at all.’
‘But you think that you’re in a position to tell me what to do?’ he rasped, stepping swiftly forward until only her desk was between them, coal-black eyes boring threateningly into green, using the full power of his body to intimidate her.
Or, at least, that was what it felt like to Abby. ‘Of course not,’ she said guardedly and quietly. ‘It just seems to me that—’
‘I’d thank you to keep your opinions to yourself,’ he growled. ‘How I—’ At that moment the telephone on Abby’s desk rang and as she lifted the receiver Hallam was compelled to stand in silence while she dealt with her call.
She was uncomfortably aware that he never once took his eyes off her, that he observed closely the porcelain quality of her skin with its scattering of freckles, her almond-shaped green eyes and tiny straight nose, her wide mouth and small, delicate ears.
And as if that wasn’t enough he allowed his eyes to slide down the slender column of her throat and rake over her breasts which were accentuated by the gentle silk of her blouse. And he made it perfectly clear that he was seeing her rounded curves beneath and not the actual clothes that she wore.
Abby felt her skin grow warm. She tried to ignore him, concentrate on her phone call. She even turned her back on him but it made no difference. He still watched and she still felt the full power of this male animal who had made such an impact on her.
She hated herself for acknowledging his intense sensuality, for letting it affect her the way it did, and as soon as she had finished her call Abby glanced briskly and pointedly at her watch. ‘I’d like to speak with your son now, Mr Lane. I have another client to see in half an hour.’
Thick dark brows rose. ‘No one dismisses me, Sommers, until I am ready to go.’ His voice was at its most pompous.
She tossed her head, beautiful eyes flashing disdainfully. ‘The more time you spend talking, the less time Greg will have.’
A thoughtful expression crossed the man’s face; a gleam appeared in the jet-black eyes. ‘Perhaps you should come to the house and talk to him. How about Friday evening? Come for a meal and—’
Abby stopped him with a quick gesture of her hand, appalled by the very idea. Go to his house? Sit through a meal with him? Suffer some more? ‘No, thank you, Mr Lane,’ she said hastily. ‘You would obviously want to put in your two pennies’ worth and that wouldn’t help matters at all. It would be much better if I saw Greg here—and alone.’ She paused a moment and then added softly, ‘As a matter of fact I think you intimidate him.’
Hallam Lane frowned swiftly and harshly, black brows drawing together in disbelief. ‘Intimidated? Greg? By me?’ He was obviously totally shocked by the suggestion. ‘What complete and utter nonsense. What on earth put that idea into your head?’
Abby shrugged expressively. ‘It was the impression I got.’
‘Impressions, impressions,’ he jeered. ‘I thought solicitors dealt in fact, not supposition. I’m telling you, Sommers, that if my son wasn’t so insistent that he wanted you to defend him then I wouldn’t waste a second of my breath talking to you.’
Abby’s chin lifted. ‘The feeling’s mutual, Mr Lane. That’s why I don’t think it would be a very good idea, my coming to your house.’ Or was it her own feelings that she was scared of—the fact that he had this amazing ability to draw some sort of unwanted response from her? Was she afraid of what might happen if she ventured into the Lane household?
