Ungentlemanly Behaviour

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‘Meaning you’ve checked me out?’ she asked sharply. It did not surprise her. Nothing this man did would ever surprise her.

His housekeeper chose that moment to return and he remained silent for a moment as the woman placed in front of them a delicious-looking fillet of Dover sole in a creamy white sauce with prawns.

‘I’d have been a fool not to make a check,’ he said once they were alone.

The smell of the food was profoundly appetising and Abby’s empty stomach gave a loud rumble. She quickly took a mouthful and found the fish every bit as delicate and tasty as it looked.

‘And yet you still don’t want me defending your son,’ she protested once she had emptied her mouth. Abby could not understand him. Hallam Lane was without a doubt the most enigmatic man she had ever met.

‘I would have preferred a man.’ Dark eyes looked challengingly into hers.

Abby flashed him a quick, indignant glance, wishing she could see him more clearly. Although the evening sun was not shining directly through the window the sky was extremely bright and his face very much in shadow. ‘Is it women in general you don’t approve of,’ she asked, jabbing unnecessarily hard at her fish, ‘or just women in what you see as men’s jobs?’

He smiled slowly. ‘Oh, I like women all right.’ And his eyes dropped from her face to her breasts. His perusal, as always, was long and deliberate and induced a warmth in her skin that she could have done without. Abby wondered whether there was a hint here of what he had in mind for later, what he had perhaps had in mind all along—though she had been too dense to see it!

What a fool she was not to have heeded her earlier misgivings and left while she’d had the chance. She knew nothing about this man, had no idea what he was like—except that he was lethally attractive and equally dangerous. In fact he was the most threatening man she had ever met in her whole life.

Despite her misgivings Abby kept a tight hold on her emotions, letting none of her fears show. ‘Do I presume from that that you have a lady-friend, Mr Lane?’

He dragged his eyes back to her face with a seeming effort. ‘Hallam, please. And no, as a matter of fact there is no one special.’

‘Why is that?’

His lips twisted with sudden bitterness. ‘Let’s say I tried it once.’

‘Ah, your wife—she did this to you?’ Abby knew she was out of order but the words spilled from her lips without conscious thought, and she was appalled to find herself adding, ‘Actually, I don’t blame her for leaving you; you’re the most arrogant man I’ve ever met. No woman in her right mind would—’

‘My wife is dead,’ he cut in icily, stopping in an instant her angry flow of words.

Abby wished the floor would open and swallow her up. Hot colour flooded her cheeks and her whole body grew uncomfortable. ‘I’m sorry. I—I didn’t know.’ Why on earth had she made the assumption that they were separated, that he was a divorced man and not a widower? Why hadn’t Greg told her? Lord, how insensitive she had been. ‘I really do apologise; I had no idea that—’

Again he interrupted. ‘Let’s drop the subject, shall we?’ His eyes were ablaze with a light she could not read and for a few uneasy minutes silence reigned.

It was not until they had both finished their starter that Hallam spoke again. ‘Do you live with your mother?’ he asked, an agreeable, conversational tone to his voice now, as though the whole unfortunate episode had never taken place.

‘No,’ she said, shaking her head, at the same time breathing a sigh of relief. ‘My mother has a new boyfriend; they’re very much in love. And as I didn’t want to spoil their pleasure in each other I bought myself a house.’

An eyebrow rose. ‘No doubt out of the profits you make due to idiots like my son,’ he remarked, a sudden bitter edge to his tone.

‘Someone has to do the job,’ she retorted, realising wearily that they would never see eye to eye. ‘I can’t understand you, Hallam Lane; why do you insist on making insulting remarks all the time?’

He gave an ironic twist to his lips. ‘It’s an amusing pastime.’

‘Meaning you’ll never take me seriously.’ Abby’s eyes flashed her displeasure. She always took umbrage when people were insulting about her chosen profession—and even more so with this detestable man!

‘Meaning,’ he said, ‘that I would never even have given you the opportunity of taking Greg’s case if he hadn’t pleaded with me so eloquently.’ He looked at her, as if trying to see her through his son’s eyes. ‘Goodness knows why.’

‘Because he knows I’m good with young people his age,’ she replied tartly.

His lips curled. ‘Yes, I understand you’ve made quite a reputation for yourself. I have barrister friends who say that your groundwork is so thorough that you’re a pleasure to work with. Why don’t you have a boyfriend?’

His mercurial change of subject momentarily threw her and Abby looked at him with a frown before saying, ‘As I told you once before, my private life is just that—private. It is none of your business.’

‘Are you content to live the life of a nun?’

Even though she was deliberately staring out of the window Abby knew that Hallam was watching her closely and intently. To her dismay every nerve-end tingled. He had this alarming ability to arouse her just by looking at her, making her more aware of her own body than she had ever been before.

‘You have no idea what sort of life I lead,’ she told him sharply.

‘So there is a boyfriend?’ he insisted.

Abby could not lie and she shook her head. ‘As a matter of fact, no, there isn’t.’

‘Does the job get in the way?’

She frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Are men scared of you? Does being a legal eagle put them off?’

‘Of course not,’ she answered firmly, her eyes shooting sparks of indignation.

‘When was the last time you dated?’ He was sitting well back in his chair now, his head on one side as he deliberately studied her.

Abby felt a curl of desire in the pit of her stomach and stifled it instantly. ‘Lord, what is this?’ she cried, her tone more aggressive than she’d intended. ‘The third degree? Of what possible interest can it be to you?’

He smiled. ‘Let’s say you intrigue me. I’ve never met a woman so uninterested in the opposite sex. Or is it, perhaps, all a sham?’ he asked quietly. ‘A veneer to go with the image of professional businesswoman?’

After a pause, when it became clear she was not going to answer his question, he went on, ‘You did respond to me rather—easily the other day. I gained the impression that if I were to—’

His words were interrupted when his housekeeper returned with their main course, but the instant she left the room he continued, ‘That if I were to make any further advances I wouldn’t be exactly rebuffed.’

‘Then you’re deeply mistaken.’ Fury made her raise her voice, and she hoped desperately that it was all presumption on his part, that he had not guessed what sensations crept through her body every time she looked at him.

Sliced breast of chicken, cooked in another one of Emily Renfrew’s wonderful sauces wafted its mouthwatering smell beneath Abby’s nostrils and she helped herself to vegetables from the dishes which matched the rest of the china, glad of something to do to take her attention away from Hallam Lane.

‘Aren’t we supposed to be discussing your son?’ she asked in a deliberate attempt to change the subject.

He did not answer. Instead he asked a question of his own. ‘Has anyone ever told you that your eyes are the most incredible green? So unusual. They change according to your mood. When you’re angry they’re as deep as a storm-tossed sea, but they’re as light as the palest emerald when you’re…’

He let his voice tail off, a knowing little smile playing about his lips.

Abby was appalled that he could read her so easily. ‘You’re despicable!’ Her eyes flashed at him and she wondered what colour they were at that moment. She had no idea that they ever changed.

‘I’m merely stating facts.’ Amusement insisted on lurking at the corners of his mouth. ‘Eat your food before it gets cold.’

Abby discovered that she had suddenly lost her appetite. Nevertheless she cut off a piece of chicken and put it into her mouth. Although it was undoubtedly tender it tasted like cardboard and when Hallam watched her every move she felt like throwing the whole contents of her plate into his face. In fact the thought gave her so much pleasure that she stifled a giggle, though she could not quite stop a smile forming on her lips.

‘What’s so funny?’ he enquired as he also speared a portion of chicken.

‘Private thoughts,’ answered Abby, still smiling.

‘I’ll give you a penny for them.’

‘You might not like what you hear.’

‘Try me.’

She was sorely tempted—not to tell him but to carry the thought out. She could just imagine his reaction. She had done it to her brother once, when his tormenting had got the better of her. He hadn’t been amused but it had been distinctly worth it just to see the shock on his face. However, discretion had to be the better part of valour here. She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’