Ruthless Contract

‘It will be a while before any of us gets over this,’ Abbie murmured, a look of deep unhappiness on her young face. ‘In fact, I find myself wondering if I will ever feel the same again. It’s like some aching void has opened up inside me.’

‘I know exactly what you mean.’ The raw edge to Greg’s tone took her by surprise. He tossed back his drink and got up to fix himself another. ‘Michael was my brother, but he was also my best friend.’ There was such a wealth of emotion in Greg’s voice that for a moment Abbie felt overwhelmed by sorrow for his loss as well as for her own. She also felt guilty—guilty for assuming that he was so hard as to be indifferent to everything.

‘I always liked Mike. He was a…a good husband and father.’ She swallowed hard as a sudden picture of Mike’s grinning, good-natured face rose in her mind.

‘Are you OK?’ Greg looked sharply over at her, yet his voice was gentle, his dark eyes concerned. For some reason the gentleness of his tone made her want to cry.

She nodded and looked down into the amber depths of her drink.

Greg sat opposite her again and for a moment there was silence, but strangely it was a companionable silence now. She glanced up and met his eyes. ‘What are we going to do without them, Greg…?’ She tried to hide the anguish in her tone but it was still plainly evident.

‘All we can do is keep going…’ His gaze held hers, a look of deep contemplation on the ruggedly attractive features.

Then she found herself speaking in a low, soft tone…words that she hadn’t planned to say to him.

‘You know, sometimes when I wake up in the mornings I have this surge of hope. I wonder if it’s all been some dreadful nightmare.’ Her lips twisted in self-mockery. ‘Then I remember that it’s really happened and it’s like that void opening up inside me again, only wider and deeper.’

It was the first time she had been able to talk openly about her feelings of grief without breaking down.

Charles had been very sympathetic, very supportive, but somehow it felt incredibly good to be talking like this to Greg, maybe because she knew now that in their grief at least they were united.

Greg sipped his drink, his face etched in stern lines. ‘They say time heals all wounds.’ He grated the words rawly and their eyes met across the room. ‘We will just have to think of the children now—put their well-being first.’

A wave of relief washed over Abigail. Perhaps the question of the children wasn’t going to be as difficult as she had anticipated. At least they both felt the same way.

‘I’m so glad that we are in agreement,’ she said, a note of heartfelt thanks in her voice. ‘I know it will be hard for both you and Margaret to say goodbye to the girls…but you can always visit them on holidays, and England isn’t that far away—’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Greg sat forward in his chair and looked at her as if she had suddenly grown two heads.

‘I’m sorry…Perhaps I should start again.’ She shook her head, realising that in her eagerness to sort things out she had jumped the gun. ‘I think the best thing for the children is for me to take them home to England with me.’

He frowned, then he leaned even further forward in his chair. ‘You can think again,’ he grated roughly.

‘What do you mean?’ With difficulty Abigail held his dark piercing gaze, her relief melting like ice in a microwave. She could feel the cold darts of apprehension trickling down her spine.

‘Let me spell it out for you.’ He almost growled the words, his ruggedly attractive features looking suddenly very grim in the half-light from the table-lamp beside him. ‘The girls are staying here in America with me. This is their home and they are not leaving in any circumstances.’

Abigail’s breath caught painfully in her throat. With extreme difficulty she pulled her senses into some kind of order. ‘Greg, you are not thinking rationally. You can’t possibly give the girls the care and attention they need. As you said yourself, you are working long hours.

Your mother can’t possibly be expected to cope.’ ‘We’ll cope.’ Greg finished his drink in one long swallow and then leaned back in his chair. ‘The girls are American citizens and they are going to remain as such.’

She glared at him, her large blue eyes shimmering with bewilderment and anger. ‘They were living in England up until a year ago…I think they are every bit as English as—’

‘No, Abbie.’ His voice was hard. ‘That’s an end to the subject.’ He put his glass down on the table next to him. ‘They are my brother’s children and they are staying with me.’

‘And to hell with what’s best for them?’ She couldn’t let the subject drop, even though the ominous darkness of Greg’s face should have warned her otherwise.

‘I shall decide what’s best for them.’

She shook her head. ‘No, Greg. I won’t have my sister’s children raised by a housekeeper or a nanny, which is what will happen if they stay with you. They need me, and—’

‘Nobody needs you, Abigail Weston,’ he cut across her firmly as he got to his feet. ‘Except perhaps that poor idiot back in London. I suggest that the best thing you can do is go back to him, where you belong.’

CHAPTER TWO

SOMEHOW Abigail got through the funeral. She felt as if she had been through the worst day of her life as she stood in the lounge of a hotel passing pleasantries with friends of Jenny and Mike.

‘You must be Jenny’s sister.’ The glamorous young brunette who had been standing by Greg’s side throughout the service stopped to talk to her on her way across to the buffet-table.

‘That’s right, Abigail Weston.’ Politely Abbie held her hand out.

‘Jayne Carr—I’m Greg’s girlfriend.’

For a moment Abigail was taken aback. So Connie was a thing of the past! In retrospect she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised; no doubt Greg had cheated on the beautiful Connie, just as he had cheated on her, once too often.

With determination Abbie pulled her mind away from the past and from Connie and concentrated on the woman who stood before her. She was heavily made-up, Abbie noticed, with dark kohl pencil around sparkling almond-shaped eyes. Her hair was very short and sophisticated, her body slender to the point of boyishness. ‘Jenny and Mike were dear friends,’ she continued sadly. ‘We are all going to miss them dreadfully.’

‘Yes.’ Abbie nodded and tried to rack her brain to think if Jenny had ever mentioned this woman’s name to her.

Come to think of it Jenny had never mentioned anything about Greg’s social life. The subject of Greg Prescott had been delicately handled after Abbie had made it clear to her sister that she was not interested in him—that she was in love with Charles.

As she thought about that little white lie now, she felt guilty. Her sister had been clearly disappointed. ‘Darling,’ she had said, with that note of deep irritation in her voice, ‘you can’t possibly prefer Charles…Look, why don’t you come over for a holiday and…?’

Swiftly Abbie switched her mind away from that conversation. Jenny had asked her on numerous occasions over the last year to come over to the States, and she had deliberately put the trip off because she didn’t want to see Greg. That fact hurt now. She should have come, and to hell with Greg Prescott.

She glanced across the room and met the subject of her thoughts head on, eye to eye.

Greg looked more attractive than ever today. His dark suit sat easily on his broad-shouldered frame. His hair gleamed raven-black in the late afternoon sunlight.

They had hardly spoken a word since that argument last night. In fact, his manner had been downright abrasive. She glanced sharply away from him, but much to her annoyance she could see him making his way across to her out of the corner of her eye. Desperately she tried to ignore him and concentrate on what the woman beside her was saying, but she broke off in midsentence as Greg reached her side.

‘I see you’ve met Jayne,’ he murmured, putting a rather possessive arm on the woman’s shoulder.

‘Yes,’ Abbie nodded.

‘I was just telling her how close I was to Jenny, darling.’ The woman smiled up at him. ‘I think the poor girl felt a bit lost when she first moved over here with Mike.’

Greg nodded. ‘Well, it was very different for her, but she adapted well. I think she was happy in the States.’

‘Yes…she told me that she loved it,’ Abbie sipped her wine. ‘But then again, I think she was determined to fit in because it meant so much to Mike being back at home.’ It was strange standing here analysing her sister’s life. Dear God, the girl had only been twenty-three. Five years younger than she was. She turned and put her glass of wine on the table beside her. ‘Just excuse me a moment,’ she said hurriedly, as she turned away and headed towards the ladies’ room.

Her heart was pounding and she felt literally nauseous as she splashed some cold water on her face. It took a while for the panic-stricken feelings of grief to subside. She took a couple of deep breaths and then forced herself to repair the damage to her face.

She looked deathly pale and at this precise moment the dark purple of her dress did nothing for her. With a sigh she flicked a brush through her long hair. Jenny and Mike wouldn’t want her to feel like this, she told herself briskly. She was going to have to pull herself together and get on with life. She had the children to think of.

When she went back outside a lot of the people who had packed the room were starting to leave. She made her way across to where Margaret was standing by the door, thanking people for coming.

She turned to Abbie as there was a lull in the proceedings. ‘I don’t know about you, but I will be glad when this is over.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘I just feel exhausted.’

‘I know.’ Abigail put her hand over the other woman’s. ‘You were right about not bringing the children. It would have been too much for them.’

Margaret nodded. ‘They are better to be with their friends. I don’t think Mike would have wanted them to go through this.’

They were interrupted by some more people giving their condolences and Abbie, after exchanging a few words, let her gaze wander over towards Greg again.

He was still standing with Jayne, apparently deep in conversation with her. The woman was very beautiful, Abbie thought idly. She wondered how serious Greg was about her?

He looked up at that moment and caught her watching him. ‘You’ve left your wine here,’ he said, picking up the glass from beside him and holding it out towards her.

Abigail had very little choice but to walk over and take it from him.

‘Feeling better?’ he asked, his dark eyes raking over her pale countenance as she stood beside him.

‘I’m fine,’ she said lightly.

‘How long are you planning to stay in New York, Abbie?’ Jayne asked, as she sipped her wine and eyed her over the crystal rim of her glass.

‘My return ticket is for three weeks’ time, then I should really be getting back to my work.’

‘What do you do?’ Jayne asked curiously.

‘I’m a commercial artist. I work mostly from home,’ she finished, meeting Greg’s eye as she spoke. Hopefully he would take the point. She would be much more suited to looking after the girls than he was.

Greg said nothing, nor was there a flicker of any emotion in his deep eyes. It was impossible to tell whether her dig had hit its mark or not.

‘How interesting,’ Jayne murmured. Then somebody came past who claimed her attention and Abigail found herself momentarily alone with Greg.

‘Your girlfriend seems very nice,’ she said, more to cover the awkward silence that Jayne’s absence had left than anything else.

‘She’s a fellow-attorney. I work quite closely with her on a lot of cases,’ Greg remarked casually.

‘Brains as well as beauty,’ Abigail remarked lightly.

He ignored that. ‘So you have booked your return flight,’ he said instead. ‘You’ll have to tell me the exact date so that I can make the necessary arrangements to drive you to the airport.’

Abigail bit down on the softness of her lower lip. ‘Please don’t concern yourself about me,’ she said stiffly. ‘I can easily get a taxi to take us to the airport.’

Obviously that dig did hit its mark because he shook his head and his eyes glittered dangerously. ‘Don’t push your luck, Abbie,’ he muttered under his breath, ‘because you will live to regret it.’

A shiver raced down her spine at those words, but she met his eyes with a look of defiance.

‘There is no way you are taking the children anywhere,’ he assured her in a low growl of a voice. ‘For one thing I have their passports, and for another, if you so much as take them down the road without my permission, I’ll have you up for abduction so fast those little feet of yours won’t touch the ground.’

With those words ringing in her ears, Abigail watched Greg move away from her to speak to someone at the other side of the room.

She glared at his broad-shouldered figure, her heart racing, her mind running in circles. She wasn’t going to let this rest, she thought furiously. If she had to fight him through every court in the United States she was going to take those children home with her.

Jayne turned back to her with a smile. ‘Sorry about that.’ She glanced around for Greg and spotted him across the room talking to another man. ‘So what do you think of the Big Apple?’ she asked Abbie conversationally.

‘Well, I only arrived yesterday. I’ll say one thing—the view from Greg’s apartment is fabulous.’

‘Yes, it’s a great place, isn’t it.’ Jayne helped herself to another glass of wine from the table beside her. ‘I’d say you’ll find the pace of life here pretty hectic, even compared with London.’

‘Maybe,’ Abbie nodded. ‘I don’t go in to the city much any more. I live in Sussex now.’

‘I’ve never been to England,’ Jayne said ruefully. ‘I’ve told Greg that when we get some free time he must show me around out there. He knows it quite well, I believe.’

‘Yes. He and Mike spent a long holiday going around Europe about six years ago. Then Mike met my sister when they were in London and he decided to stay and marry her.’

‘Very romantic,’ Jayne smiled.

‘Yes, it was.’ For a moment Abigail’s thoughts drifted to that time. Jenny had been madly in love with Mike from the moment she had first set eyes on him.

‘He’s the most gorgeous thing on two legs,’ Jenny had laughed when she had tried to describe him to Abbie. ‘I know you will just love him…but not too much. I’ve arranged for you to meet his brother Greg. He’s the one you can fall for.’

Abbie had certainly been captivated by Greg Prescott’s good looks; he had been so charming, so smooth, with the most sexy accent.

Both girls had spent a wonderful three months being wined and dined by the brothers during the last stop of their holiday, apart from a four-week trip up to Scotland. They had cancelled that trip so that they could stay longer in London, much to Abbie’s and Jenny’s delight.

Jenny had danced around their small flat when the phone call had come from Mike saying they weren’t going up to Edinburgh after all. ‘They are as besotted with us as we are with them.’ She had sung the words at the top of her voice. ‘Oh, Abbie, I’m so happy.’

Abbie had been happy too, although she had tried to be more cautious than her sister, reminding her that it was only a month before Mike and Greg would go back to the States.

Jenny had pulled a face. ‘When people love each other, things work out.’

If only that were true, Abbie thought now…If only Jenny and Mike were here and this was just a family party. She shook her head at the ridiculous thought and tried very hard to concentrate on what Jayne was saying to her.

‘Greg is going to have his work cut out with the children,’ she was saying now. ‘I’d give him a hand if I could, but my career takes up all of my day. I’m as stuck as he is.’

‘Yes…Well, I’m sure we will work something out,’ Abbie said positively. Then all of a sudden she was struck by a thought that hadn’t occurred to her before. ‘Jayne,’ she said cautiously, ‘do you happen to know if Mike and Jenny made a will?’

The girl nodded. ‘Oh, yes, I’m sure they did. Greg said something about it the other day.’

Abigail fought down the impulse to ask if she knew what was in it. Her mind raced. Surely Jenny had specified who should look after the children if anything happened to them?

That meant she could pursue custody. She had no doubt whatsoever that her sister would have named her as first choice to look after the children.

Tomorrow, first thing, she would seek legal advice, she thought grimly.

Margaret interrupted their conversation at that moment. ‘Abbie, I’m going to leave now,’ she said with a wan smile in Jayne’s direction. ‘I told Mrs Greenwood that I wouldn’t be much later than five picking the children up.’

‘I’ll come with you, Margaret.’ Abigail immediately put her drink down. She wanted to be away from this place, from Greg’s disturbing presence. She needed some time to think quietly.

‘Well, if you’re sure.’ Margaret turned and indicated to Greg that she wanted a word. ‘Abbie and I are going to collect the children now,’ she said as he came across.

‘All right.’ He nodded. ‘Unfortunately I can’t come straight home. I’ve got to go back to the office after here.’

‘What about dinner?’ Margaret asked.

‘Don’t worry about me,’ Greg said smoothly. ‘I’ll grab something later on.’

And he thinks he will have time to look after two children, Abigail thought angrily, as she followed Margaret out to her car. The man was far too busy with his work and his girlfriend ever to be at home.

Abigail didn’t see Greg again that day. She was fully occupied seeing to the girls when she got back to the apartment. Then after dinner Margaret looked completely washed out, and Abigail suggested gently that they all had an early night.

The strange thing was that once Abigail got into the privacy of her bedroom, she didn’t feel at all tired.

She had a shower in the en suite bathroom and then dried her hair briskly with a towel. She felt less stressed after that, and sat reading in bed for a while, hoping that it would take her mind off things and she would start to feel drowsy.

At midnight she got up and went to check that the girls were all right. They were both fast asleep.

She sat for a while by their beds just watching them. They had been very good today, had faced up to the fact that it was their parents’ funeral with brave little hearts. Jenny would have been proud of them.

For a moment she found herself remembering the last time she had seen her sister. She had gone to wave her and Mike and the girls off at the airport when they had been on their way to live in America, just a little over a year ago. There had been tears streaming down her face that day as she hugged Jenny tightly and said goodbye.

‘It won’t be forever,’ Jenny had said with a sob in her voice. ‘You’ll come out and see us, won’t you?’

With a sigh, Abbie stood up and crept out of the girls’ room. There wasn’t time for regrets—she just had to sort out the question of the girls.

She noticed as she glanced down the corridor that the lights were still on in the lounge. Obviously Greg wasn’t home yet. Too busy out drowning his sorrows with Jayne, she thought bitterly.

Greg had always had an eye for the women, she reflected as she climbed back into bed. He had two-timed her for a start.

She supposed she had been naive where Greg was concerned. She had believed the whispered words of endearment, had lived for his kisses…his caresses. Yes, she had been naïve…She had actually believed herself to be in love almost from the first moment she had met those charismatic eyes across a crowded room.

For a while she allowed her thoughts to drift back to that time…

CHAPTER THREE

ABIGAIL wished she had never allowed herself to get talked into this. She had only ever been on a blind date once before, and that had been an utter disaster.

The memory made her want to leave the crowded room and run as fast as her legs would carry her, back to the sanctuary of her flat. The only thing that stopped her was the knowledge that Jenny would be hurt.

Her sister had talked and talked about her meeting Mike’s brother for ages now. Finally she had given in and it had been arranged that they would meet here at this party.

Abigail didn’t know anybody and she was feeling more and more apprehensive as the minutes ticked by and one heavy metal tune after another was played at high volume on a powerful CD system, grinding on her already sensitive nerves.

‘I wonder where he can be?’ Jenny’s eyes searched the crowded room anxiously. ‘You did tell him nine o’clock, didn’t you, Mike?’

Mike grinned. ‘Yes, honey. Stop worrying, it’s only just gone nine.’ Mike turned good-humoured eyes on to Abbie. ‘How about a drink?’

‘Sorry?’ Abigail’s mind had been miles away and it was hard to hear above the racket. ‘What did you say?’

‘How about a drink?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m just going to the ladies’ room. I won’t be long.’ Turning, she pushed her way through the crowds. She would give Greg Prescott ten minutes, she decided firmly. If he hadn’t arrived by then she would make an excuse and go home.

Abigail took her time upstairs. She brushed her long blonde hair and studied her reflection in the brightly lit mirror with critical eyes.

It was a hot summer evening and she was wearing a white halter-necked dress that emphasised her golden tan and the soft curves of her figure. She found fault with her looks but in actual fact she had a fresh-faced innocent beauty that had already caught the attention of more than one man downstairs.

With a sigh she made her way down to the party again. It was as she fought her way back through the crowds that she saw him.

He was tall, at least a head taller than the people around him, and he had a commanding presence that drew her eyes and held them. When he looked up and she met those dark, charismatic eyes, her heart seemed to miss a beat.

‘Wanna dance?’ A young man caught her arm as she brushed past, and shouted the words above the din of the music.

She dragged her eyes away from the disturbing stranger and shook her head.

‘Oh, come on, one dance.’ The man kept hold of her arm. He had hard features that Abigail did not care for.

‘No, thank you,’ she answered politely. ‘I couldn’t dance to this, anyway.’

‘The next record, then?’

‘I doubt very much that it will be any better,’ Abigail answered firmly, and tried to prise his fingers from her arm. It wasn’t easy—he had an iron grip and he was starting to hurt her. ‘Let go of me.’ She raised her voice to make sure he heard, but still he held on.

Suddenly a hand stretched over and the man was pulled firmly back from her.

‘Beat it,’ a tough voice grated.

The man didn’t stand around to argue and Abigail wasn’t surprised as she tipped her head back and found herself looking up at the handsome stranger who had held her attention a few moments ago.

He grinned at her. ‘The jerk had good taste anyway, I’ll give him that.’

Abigail tried not to blush. She couldn’t believe how gorgeous this man was…If only she wasn’t supposed to be meeting Mike’s brother, she thought despondently.

‘Would you like a drink?’ he asked easily now, his eyes drifting over her gentle features with undisguised interest.

‘Sorry. I’m supposed to be meeting someone.’

His lips twisted drily. ‘So am I…but what the heck? If we leave now they might never be the wiser.’

The words were boldly audacious, spoken arrogantly by a man who was obviously confident of his success with women. But it wasn’t the words that made Abigail’s senses swim, it was his accent. Although it was hard to hear clearly, she felt almost sure that this man had a trace of an American accent.