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Ruthless Contract
Kathryn Ross
Wedlocked"I hate you Greg Prescott… I just hate you." Five years ago, Greg had deceived Abbie, and now fate had delivered even crueler blows. Abbie's sister and brother-in-law had been tragically killed, and Abbie found herself in America, as the joint guardian of her beloved twin nieces… a guardianship she shared with Greg.He wouldn't hear of her taking the little girls back to England. But if she wanted to stay with them she was faced with a cruel alternative - a loveless marriage to Greg, who made it quite plain that he expected to share her bed… .
Table of Contents
Cover Page (#u20471b2f-5891-5c23-b30b-3207508baab2)
Excerpt (#udc536981-9cd7-5519-bdd0-de16f80706cc)
About The Author (#uf4d4f4db-0023-5ea2-9c7a-318a50014f28)
Title Page (#u60292dfe-ac16-5583-affc-3b5d39fe5f2d)
Chapter One (#ud47f6f57-a56e-5579-b72d-69e09749618e)
Chapter Two (#u8cd70631-2af0-5942-b966-e909892622ac)
Chapter Three (#u2b07fee0-d4dd-5a2a-b5e5-b42282cdb50c)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not?” he murmured in a husky undertone. “I thought it might bring back a few memories. It certainly brought back a few for me.” His lips twisted in an arrogant smile. “You always were a passionate little thing.”
A rush of red-hot anger replaced the warm feelings inside her, and she pulled away from him. “And you always were full of yourself,” she snapped. “For your information, I hated every moment of that kiss.”
“You do surprise me,” he drawled lazily, then placed a finger against his lips as she looked ready to explode. “Shh! Don’t wake the girls.”
Abbie took a step back from him, her gaze moving over the laughing gleam in his eyes. That kiss had been just a joke to him. “I hate you, Greg Prescott…I just hate you.”
KATHRYN ROSS
was born in Zambia, Africa, where her parents happened to live at that time. Educated in Ireland and England, she now lives in a village near Blackpool, Lancashire. Kathryn is a professional beauty therapist but writing is her first love. As a child she wrote adventure stories and at thirteen was editor of her school magazine. Happily, ten writing years later Designed With Love was accepted by Harlequin. A romantic Sagittarian, she loves traveling to exotic locations.
Ruthless Contract
Kathryn Ross
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_1bef74c7-24fc-51ac-ab97-2fdcee9dda48)
LIFE never went as you expected it to, Abigail reflected as she looked down from the plane at the skyscrapers of New York.
Jenny and Mike had been so happy, had had so much to live for. For a moment her eyes blurred with tears and swiftly she searched in her bag for a tissue. She wasn’t going to cry any more, she told herself fiercely. She had already cried enough tears to last a lifetime.
She could still hardly take in the fact that her beautiful sister was dead, that she would never see her or Mike again.
The pilot’s voice interrupted her thoughts as he told them that they would soon be landing at JFK and that the local time was five-thirty in the afternoon…
A frisson of nerves started to twist inside Abbie as she thought about seeing Greg Prescott again.
It was five years since she had last seen him. It felt like a lifetime ago. It had taken her a long time to get over the havoc that man had wrought in her life. Even now at the oddest times she found herself thinking about him, thinking what a fool he had made of her.
The plane touched down smoothly and the long flight from London to New York was over. Abigail didn’t move immediately; she waited until the majority of passengers had gathered up their belongings and were filing down the aisle before she even unfastened her seatbelt.
Then calmly she opened her handbag and took out a small compact to check her appearance.
Her blue eyes were slightly shadowed, reflecting the fact that she hadn’t been sleeping well recently, and her skin was very pale. With a sigh she reapplied dark pink lipstick and then ran a hand through her long blonde hair to fluff it up. She wanted to look completely composed when she saw Greg.
She had been surprised when he had written to her and told her she could stay with him instead of at a hotel, and she had been even more surprised when he had offered to pick her up at the airport.
She had wanted to refuse both offers. The thought of having to spend any time in that man’s company was completely abhorrent. It was only the thought of the children that had made her write a stiff letter of acceptance.
Poor little Daisy and Rachel. She bit down sharply on her lip as she thought about the twins. It was quite frankly just the thought of the children that had kept her going over these last few days. She had every intention of taking them home to England with her. They needed her and she was going to be there for them.
Swiftly she rose to her feet, a look of determination on her young face. She was going to have to face Greg Prescott now and forget their past history.
It seemed to take forever to clear immigration. Even though you no longer needed a visa to visit the States, the authorities were hot on who was coming in and, more importantly, when they were going to leave.
Abigail was thankful that she had heeded Charles’s advice and booked her return flight in advance. She could always add the children on from this side once she had cleared everything with Greg.
Her heart thumped nervously as she picked up her bag and walked through the barriers. Her eyes ran searchingly along the sea of faces waiting at the other side. At first she couldn’t see anyone she recognised and she wondered for a brief second if he just hadn’t bothered to come.
She pushed her trolley around the crowds and headed decisively towards the telephones. She wasn’t going to stand around like an idiot waiting for him, she told herself angrily. If he couldn’t be bothered to be here on time she would make her own arrangements.
It was then that she saw him. He was leaning indolently against a counter to one side of her, just watching her.
Her heart seemed to miss a beat and for a second they could have been the only two people on the planet. The crowds around them, the hustle and the noise just seemed to disappear as she met those dark, deeply disturbing eyes.
He looked different…yet so familiar that her heart leapt crazily. He was still ruggedly handsome, only now the darkness of his hair was flecked with silver at the sides and instead of wearing casual jeans he was dressed in a formal dark suit. He looked every inch the successful lawyer that he was.
He didn’t move towards her immediately, but took his time, his eyes lazily sweeping from the tips of her stilettoheeled shoes over the navy blue suit that clung in a flattering way to the slender curves of her figure, before resting slowly on her face.
Much to her annoyance she felt herself starting to blush and he smiled as he noticed her heightened colour. Only then did he move across to her.
‘Hello, Abbie, it’s been a long time,’ he murmured in that deep drawling tone she remembered so well.
She bit down on the impulse to say, Not long enough. ‘Yes, it has…You haven’t changed.’ It was the only thing she could think of to say to him and it wasn’t strictly true. He had changed and it wasn’t just the silver strands in his hair.
The Greg she had known was good-natured—approachable. This Greg looked harder somehowtougher. An aura of power seemed to encompass him.
She supposed the meteoric rise in his career had contributed to the harsh, uncompromising look of his features. After all, Greg had achieved more in the last few years than most men did in a lifetime. You didn’t climb to the top without ruthless determination.
His lips twisted drily. ‘I’m not sure whether I should take that as a compliment or not.’
‘It was just a casual comment,’ she shrugged, and looked away from him. She knew very well that he was remembering the rather severe words she had spoken last time they had seen each other. ‘Listen, I don’t want to put you out in any way.’ She continued on in a rush. ‘If it would be better for you, I’ll just book myself into a hotel somewhere until we sort things out.’ Her voice was abrasively brisk; she didn’t mean it to sound quite so prickly, but she was very uptight, very uneasy about the whole situation.
He flicked her a glance from eyes that were quite calm. ‘Everything is sorted out,’ he told her in a low, firm voice. ‘I’ve made the necessary arrangements. The funeral is tomorrow.’
A cold shudder ran through her body at those words.
He picked up her bag and marched forward towards the car-park, leaving her no option but to hurry after him.
‘So.’ He stopped by a silver-blue Mercedes and put her luggage in the boot. ‘Did you have a good journey?’
‘It was all right.’ In truth she hadn’t noticed much about the trip; her mind had been too taken up with thoughts of Jenny, worries about the children and, of course, the dread of seeing him again.
She waited until she was seated in the car and he had started the ignition before she asked the question that was burning inside her. ‘How are the children?’
He glanced at her, and for the first time she glimpsed the tired, strained look of grief behind the remote countenance. ‘If you want it in one word, devastated.’
Abbie bit down on her lip and turned over-bright eyes away from him. ‘I just can’t believe it’s happened, Greg, I really can’t. It’s like a bad dream.’
‘You’re telling me.’ Grimly he swung the car out from its space.
They didn’t speak at all until he had hit the freeway and they were headed towards the centre of the city.
‘How’s your mum holding up?’ Abbie turned slightly in her seat to look at him.
‘She’s been very brave. I reckon a lot of it is for the children’s sake.’
‘Is she looking after them?’
‘Yes…she’s moved into my apartment for the time being. She’s coping very well, considering, but it’s taking a lot out of her.’ He raked a distracted hand through the thickness of his hair. ‘Luckily I have a good housekeeper who comes in each day, and I intend to try cutting down on my workload so that I can be at home more, but it’s difficult.’
‘Is that necessary now that I’m here?’ she asked quickly.
He gave a dry laugh. ‘I can’t see you looking after young children.’ He flicked a hard glance at her. ‘You’re hardly the domesticated type.’
Her face burned with anger at that remark. ‘I can assure you that when it comes to my sister’s children I could become any “type” that is necessary.’
He shrugged. ‘But you won’t be here long enough to be much help…will you?’
She let that remark pass in silence.
He turned off at the next junction and was a moment concentrating on the flow of traffic before he spoke again. ‘How’s that boyfriend of yours—what’s his name?’
‘Charles.’ She muttered the name through clenched teeth, knowing that Greg was going to make some kind of sarcastic remark.
‘That’s right, Charles.’ For a moment Greg’s lips twisted in the semblance of a smile. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t married him yet…You considered him quite a catch, if I remember rightly.’ He flicked her a sideways glance. ‘What happened? Didn’t Mummy approve?’
Abigail glared at him. ‘As a matter of fact I get on very well with Charles’s mother,’ she grated furiously.
His lips twisted scornfully. ‘So he just hasn’t asked you yet?’
‘Yes, he’s asked me.’ Abigail was so incensed by the question that she answered without thinking. How dared he ask such personal questions? She wouldn’t dream of asking about his girlfriend. For a moment a picture of Connie Davis flashed vividly into her mind. What had happened to her? she wondered distractedly. There had been a time when she had expected to hear that Greg had married Connie, but the years had passed and he was still single.
‘So you’ve turned the paragon down?’ Greg continued with a wry twist of his lips. ‘Amazing…all that lovely money too.’
Abigail was momentarily speechless at such an outrageous remark. ‘No, I haven’t turned him down,’ she grated heatedly, once she had caught her breath. ‘Not that it is any of your damn business.’
‘So if you haven’t turned him down, then you are engaged to him?’ He darted a glance at her left hand, unperturbed by her angry tone.
‘I’m thinking about it,’ she muttered in a low voice. ‘If you must know, he asked me a few days ago, just before the…accident.’
As she was talking she was wondering why she was telling him this; it was far too personal. She cursed herself for allowing him to get under her skin so easily.
‘Why play games? It’s inevitable that you will marry the guy,’ Greg grated drily.
She shot him an angry look. ‘Nothing is inevitable.’
One eyebrow rose mockingly as he pulled into an underground car-park and a reserved space. ‘The Abigail I know would never turn down the likes of Charles Marsden.’
Greg really hadn’t changed a bit, she thought furiously. He could still bring her to boiling-point with the mere lift of one eyebrow. The man was totally insufferable. How she could ever have imagined herself in love with him was a complete mystery.
‘I can assure you that you don’t know me at all,’ she told him aridly.
Greg’s hard eyes flicked over her beautiful face. ‘On the contrary, I think I know you very well,’ he drawled smoothly, and then his eyes moved down over the soft curves of her body in a blatant appraisal. ‘As well as a man can know a woman.’
Colour rose in her cheeks at the deliberately provocative statement.
He shrugged and reached for the door-handle. ‘Anyway, I hope you find happiness,’ he concluded briskly. ‘My main concern is the happiness of two little girls under my care.’
‘Well, at least we are in agreement about something.’ She got out of the car and their eyes met across its roof.
‘Are we?’ he asked stonily, a dark brooding expression on his lean features.
What was that supposed to mean? she wondered angrily as she waited for him to get her luggage from the trunk of the car. Did he think she didn’t care about her own sister’s children?
