Ruthless Contract

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?