Penmort Castle

Chapter Twenty-Five Losing Abby

Cash was in the library, his eyes swiftly scanning the books.

If Honor had found clues to Vivianna Wainwright in the library, Cash thought there might be something she’d missed. Something that might give him insight into how to defeat a fucking ghost. Something that might help him to feel a little less fucking useless.

Cash Fraser’s thoughts were sprinkled liberally with the f-word such was his mood.

He’d left Abby at the breakfast table with Nicola, Fenella and Honor.

He didn’t want to but once the conversation turned to catering and flowers, Abby saw his impatience and urged him to go.

He refused.

Abby enlisted Nicola and Nicola urged him to go.

He wanted to refuse but he didn’t.

Cash felt there was something wrong with Nicola. She had a fragility about her that was atypical.

However, Cash didn’t have time to worry about Nicola when his thoughts were centred on Abby and what was to happen that night.

He’d left Abby only after pulling her to him and engaging in a lips-to-ear whispered conversation that, to any who observed it, would look like lover’s talk.

Instead it was Cash telling Abby if she left Nicola’s fucking side he’d not be responsible for his actions.

After biting her lip (this time, Cash could swear, it was to hide a smile, although he had no fucking clue what there was to smile about), Abby agreed.

Only then did Cash leave.

He spied an unusual book, thin and old, pulled it from its shelf and leafed through it, finding it was a (bad) epic poem about the Civil War.

He replaced the book and his mind went back to Abby.

He had, he realised, been wrong. He’d thought he had her that first weekend they were together.

He hadn’t had her then.

He knew this because he had her now.

All of her.

The all of her he saw that she gave her husband in their wedding photo.

And the feeling of having all of Abby was something Cash had not anticipated.

He should have. She’d given him clues. Hell, she’d given him clues from the first day they’d met.

He, of course, thought she was a professional escort. So when she’d wiped the gloss from his lips at the pub and leaned into him in an affectionate way when he put on her cape on their first date, he thought it was a show.

It wasn’t.

It was just Abby.

The night she’d thought he was in an accident, her guard came crashing down.

Quickly after she invited him in, laughing in abandon with her face turned up to his; calling him for no reason (and then hilariously expecting him to carry the conversation); squeezing his thigh comfortingly when he was angry; curling in his lap to be close when she had to share hard facts but in a gentle way; leading him to the study and asking him to fuck her on the desk, that was Abby.

All of Abby.

All for him.

On this thought, for some unknown reason, Cash’s mood turned darker and he wondered if Benjamin Butler had any time to think before he’d died. To think about his wife. To think about leaving such an exquisite creature behind. To think about how fucking lucky he’d been and how abhorrent it was that their time was cut short.

Cash hoped he had not.

His mind occupied with Abby’s dead husband suddenly Cash felt a warm draught against his ankles.

He looked down and saw nothing.

He looked to the door. It was, as he left it, open.

He looked to the window. It was, as he’d entered, closed.

The draught ascended the length of his body, curling around.

Cash took a step back and it disappeared.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, thinking the situation with Abby, the castle and the ghost was screwing with his head.

On that thought, the draught came back, circling his wrist in an odd way, almost but also strangely not, putting pressure there as if to lift his hand.

He took another step away.

“Here he is!” Cash heard Fenella screech and the draught disappeared.

He turned to the door to see her entering, yanking her mother behind her, Abby following, Honor coming up the rear.

Abby’s sentries.

Cash stared at them.

Then he repeated, “Fucking hell.”

“Well, I knew he couldn’t have gone far,” Abby stated, rushing forward.

The minute her back was to the others, she gave him a comical, wide-eyed look which Cash couldn’t quite interpret and at which Cash was in no mood to laugh.

“I’m still not certain why we all had to go in search of Cash. Abby could have found him on her own,” Nicola noted, her words explaining Abby’s look.

Abby had made it to Cash’s side and her fingers curled around his bicep as she leaned into his body and looked back at Nicola.

“I could have got lost,” she lied, bald-faced.

“Yes, it’s a big castle.” Honor drawled, her eyes on Cash. She looked like she didn’t know whether to laugh or scream and Cash felt her pain.

“And I’m blonde,” Abby went on, “I think it’s a scientific fact that blondes are a bit scatty.”

At her words, Cash started leaning towards laughter and looked down at Abby. “I’m not certain that’s science.”

“Really?” she asked. “I thought there were some studies done about it.”

“I don’t think so,” Cash replied.

“Well, there should be,” she mumbled, giving him another look, this one he could read quite clearly and it said shut up, then she turned a bright smile to Nicola and declared overly cheerfully, “Well, I found him now! All’s well!”

Cash’s mood disappeared and he burst into laughter.

His arm went around her waist to pull her closer. When it did, her hands detached from his bicep, one arm slid around his back and she looked up at him right before his head descended and, still laughing, he kissed her. It was swift, it was light but it was definitely a kiss.

When he lifted his head, he saw she was smiling up at him dazzlingly as if his laughter was a gift from the gods, better than any diamond bracelet, any cashmere robe.

The smile still on her lips, her thumb came to his mouth and she swiped at her ever-present lip gloss the kiss had transferred to his lips. As she did so Cash felt the room around them melt and all he saw was her exquisite face, her smile, her glow.

And he knew, regardless of all that was happening, ghosts and brothers murdering brothers and sons exacting retribution, Abby was happy.

And Cash had made her that way.

In that instant Cash saw that not only had her guard come crashing down, the pain she couldn’t quite hide that lurked in the back of her eyes from the minute he’d sat across from her at the pub had disappeared.

He’d taken it away.

“Jesus,” he muttered, powerful sensations he didn’t completely understand shooting through him like spears and he watched her face turn confused.

“What?” she asked.

“Jesus,” he repeated.

Abby turned into him. “Cash, are you okay?”

As if his actions weren’t under his control, his hand went to her jaw tilting her face up further. His mouth came down on hers and he gave her a kiss that was not swift, it was not light and it could have quite possibly been the physical definition of a kiss.

“Oh my,” Cash vaguely heard Fenella whisper from far away.

“Maybe we should leave them alone,” Nicola murmured from just as far.

“The bloke who played Cash in the movie didn’t kiss that good,” Honor noted blandly.

Regardless of their onlookers and the conversation they were holding, Cash’s focus was entirely on Abby. He kept kissing her as if they were the only ones in the room and she kissed him back the same way.

“Honor, shush,” Nicola snapped quietly, “let’s go.”

“We can’t go. Abby’s going to town with me,” Fenella said and on that, with disappointment at the brevity of their kiss (and the fact they had an audience who wouldn’t shut the fuck up and get the hell out) Cash’s head came up. Instead of pulling away, he slid his nose alongside Abby’s.

“I said, let’s go,” Cash heard that Nicola’s voice was now getting sharper, if not louder.

“Are you okay?” Abby repeated in a whisper, her eyes on his.

“Yes,” Cash replied, his voice vibrating low, “I’m very okay.”

And this was true. Regardless of their current circumstances, he’d never felt so fucking okay in his life.

Abby’s brows drew together and her mouth twitched in a way that it looked like she wasn’t sure whether to smile or to frown.

“Abby, are we going to town?” Fenella called and Cash’s hand flexed where it still held Abby’s jaw, not in a demonstration of affection, instead in a reflexive action denoting his restrained desire to wring Fenella’s neck.

“Um…” Abby muttered, her mouth deciding it wanted to smile which it did, “we were coming to tell you that we’re going to town. We need your car.”

That got Cash’s full attention.

“My car?” he asked as he dropped his hand from her jaw.

“Yes, your car,” Abby answered.

“Town is a two minute walk away,” Cash told her.

“I know,” Abby replied.

“Why do you need my car?” Cash enquired.

Her smile turned mischievous. “Because I want to drive it.”

Cash burst out laughing and both his arms went around her, pulling her into his body.

“Does that mean we’re going to town?” Fenella semi-yelled like they were three rooms down, not fifteen feet away.

Once he’d sobered, Cash looked at his cousin. “You’re going to town.”

Abby’s body melted into his and her head tipped back further to smile at him.

Then she whispered, “You’re going to have to walk me down to the car.”

“I know,” he whispered back.

“Now can I get to the business of preparing for one hundred guests to descend tonight, or do you girls want me to go into town with you, just in case Abby gets lost?” Nicola asked but for the first time since they arrived last night, she looked cheerful if not her normal cheerful.

“You go, Mummy. We’ll be fine,” Fenella assured Nicola as Cash started to lead Abby to the door.

“I’m glad to hear that since you’ve lived two minutes from town since you were ten years old,” Nicola mumbled as she headed busily out the door, casting a smile back at Abby and Cash before she disappeared.

Honor gave them a small wave and followed her mother. Cash walked Abby and Fenella to his and Abby’s room to get his keys.

However when his fingers closed around the keys on the bureau, the warm draught he’d forgotten with the arrival of Abby and her entourage came back. It was stronger this time, almost insistent, and it felt like it was trying to prevent him from picking up the ring.

It disappeared again when his fingers closed around the keys and Cash’s hand moved away from the bureau.

He shook off the bizarre feeling thinking it was just the castle. The place was centuries old, it likely had hot and cold draughts everywhere.

He escorted Abby and Fenella down to the old stables. The stables were now a five car garage where Alistair and his family kept their (far too expensive for Alistair’s circumstances) cars and where Cash had parked the Maserati last night.

Fenella folded her body into the passenger seat and Cash stood in the driver’s open door with Abby.

She tipped her head back to look up at him and he could see the excitement on her face at the prospect of driving his car.

“Thanks for letting me drive your car,” she murmured.

He put his hand to her neck and teased, “I’m thinking maybe I should have asked you if you were a good driver before giving you my keys.”

She grinned and leaned into him before she replied, “I’m not only a good driver, I’m a granny driver.”

Cash smiled at her amusing description of her driving style and squeezed her neck before asking, “Do you know how to drive a stick?”

Her grin turned playful as she exclaimed, “Of course! I’m half-American, you know.”

“That’s why I’m asking,” he retorted.

She shook her head, her soft hair sliding on his hand, her face telling him she wasn’t going to stoop to a response.

Cash went on. “Call me when you’re heading back, I’ll meet you at the gate.”

She nodded, got up on her toes, hand to his stomach and touched her mouth to his.

He felt her touch, the warmth of her body and the excitement in her eyes all with a heady intensity that was not unusual with Abby, however it was, in that moment, significantly more profound.

When her mouth moved away, her eyes caught his and her soft, tender look told him she’d felt the same.

Any vestiges of Cash’s earlier dark mood melted away.

With effort (for he vastly preferred spending the morning in other pursuits with Abby, say, sexually christening another room in the castle), he dropped his hand.

She got in, he slammed the door and returned her wave. He nodded to Fenella, left the garage and headed up the steep hill to the gate.

As he climbed, he heard his car start and he turned to watch her roar out of the garage, not like a granny driver, but instead like an Indy car driver.

Then he stood watching as the car turned on a screech of tires into the long, steep, winding lane that led through the wood to the main road that skirted the town.

And he continued to watch, body now frozen, as she raced down the lane, nearly missing the hairpin turn at the bottom, two tires in the turf at the side of the lane.

And he still watched from his high vantage point as she negotiated the lane, brake lights blazing the entire way. Even so, it seemed she was picking up speed as the high performance sports car hurtled down the hill and she was, clearly, just keeping it on the road.

A feeling of foreboding swept over him and before his mind made the conscious decision to do so, he started running. He didn’t keep to the lane but took the more direct path, sprinting through the trees on the hill at the side of the castle, his eyes on the car as he went.

It, with Abby in it, was accelerating and visibly out-of-control.

He dodged trees as he ran, watching as she jumped the curb and drove through the turf, brake lights glowing but not slowing, straight toward the high, thick, stone wall that surrounded Penmort estate.

He made it to the bottom of the hill just as the car slammed into the wall with an ugly, loud crash of crunching, twisting metal.

At the sight and sound of Abby in his car slamming into a wall, Cash didn’t slow even as his mind erased and a blind panic filled him.

He was tearing across the field toward the smoking car when his blank mind saturated. Memories collided in his brain, overlapping each other, one crowding the other out as Cash ran.

Abby, tall, exquisite, arresting, wearing winter white standing in the door at the pub.

Abby telling him he looked good in glasses.

Abby’s eyes on him, soft and reverential, after she woke from her nap.

The fresh, sweet taste of Abby when he kissed her after she’d sipped at her bizarre cocktail.

In bed, Abby and her cat, snuggling into him and falling asleep while he worked.

Abby excitedly babbling about how much she loved cashmere.

Abby, looking classic and elegant, standing in his arms in his office.

The strange, poignant sleeping positions Abby would assume, always close, always in the protective curve of his arm.

He reached the car and saw the demolished bonnet folded into itself and the airbags inflated before both seats of the car.

Cash didn’t give a thought to his car, only to one of its occupants.

He yanked open the driver’s door to see Abby was shoved back behind the airbag. Her head turned to him, eyes wide but blinking, face pale.

She was breathing, moving, there was no blood in sight, no bones protruding, and relief ripped through him.

She whispered, “Fenella.”

Cash pushed his arm between Abby and the airbag. “You first, love. Then I’ll take care of Fenella.”

He found the release on the seatbelt as she murmured, “It was stuck in go.”

Cash put one arm under her knees, the other behind her back and cautiously slid her out of her seat, doing a quick body scan as he did so.

What he didn’t do was reply.

“Cash,” she called softly as he straightened, Abby cradled in his arms, and started striding away from the wreckage. His eyes went to hers and she went on, “The car was stuck in go.”

“Quiet, darling,” Cash muttered.

“I couldn’t get it to stop,” she whispered.

He knew that.

He knew it.

And he knew why.

But he couldn’t think of that now.

He had to focus on Abby. If he didn’t focus on Abby, he would do something he would regret. Something that would take him away from her for he’d be in prison. Prison would mean that he would really lose Abby instead of just experiencing the gut-twisting, soul-destroying thought of losing her while watching her slam into a wall in his car.

“Quiet, Abby,” he repeated gently, “we’ll talk later.” He stopped close to a tree and set her on her feet but didn’t release his hold on her. “Can you stand?”

She tipped her head to look at him and pulled her hair away from her face with a visibly trembling hand but she nodded.

Cash left her and jogged back to the car. Fenella was carefully alighting and he put an arm about her waist. She looked up at him, speechless for once, wearing the same wide-eyed, pale expression as Abby. He supported her weight and walked her back to Abby.

When they arrived at Abby’s side, Fenella spoke. “What just happened?”

Abby’s eyes went to Cash and she replied, “I don’t know.”

But by the look on her face, he knew that she did.

At that moment Suzanne, in her sporty Mercedes two-seater, turned from the main road into the lane. Her eyes were on the wrecked car and she slowed to a halt.

“Wait here,” Cash ordered and jogged to Suzanne.

She was out of the car before he arrived.

“My God, Cash, what happened?” she breathed, eyes on the wreckage then they turned to him and did a sweep of his body. “Are you okay?”

Cash didn’t answer, instead he asked, “Do you have your mobile?”

She was staring at him and her eyes moved to Abby and Fenella.

“Suzanne,” Cash’s voice was low with impatience, “mobile.”

Her head gave a jerk and she looked back at Cash, mumbling, “Of course.”

She leaned into the car, got her bag and pulled out her mobile, handing it to Cash.

Cash was pressing numbers when he demanded, “Go back to the house, get Honor’s Rover, come back and pick up Abby and Fenella.”

He finished dialling, pressed go and put the mobile to his ear as she started, “But –”

“Do it!” Cash snapped and he heard his call to the police connect as Suzanne hustled back into her car and took off up the lane.

Cash walked back to Abby and Fenella as he reported the wreck. The minute he arrived at Abby’s side he slid his arm around her shoulders and curled her front-to-front. Both her arms wrapped around his waist and she pressed her cheek to his chest as he kept talking.

After he made his report, he flipped Suzanne’s phone closed and looked down at Abby. “The police are coming. Suzanne is getting Honor’s car so she can take you back to the castle.”

Abby nodded mutely and Cash went on.

“Glue yourself to Nicola’s side,” he ordered.

She pressed deeper into him and nodded again.

Cash continued. “I’ll bring the police to you.” His eyes turned to Fenella. “Nicola needs to do something, you get Abby off the castle grounds immediately.”

Fenella replied instantly, “Yes, Cash.”

He heard cars approaching and turned to see Suzanne’s Mercedes and Nicola’s Audi headed their way. Honor and Nicola were both in the Audi.

Cash walked Abby and Fenella toward the cars and watched all the women alight.

“What on earth –” Nicola whispered as they arrived, her eyes on the wrecked Maserati.

Honor’s face was ashen and her eyes were on Fenella. Then they moved to Cash and he watched a spark of anger flare before she subdued it.

“There was an accident,” Cash announced unnecessarily, “take Fenella and Abby back to the castle. I’ll wait for the police.”

“Is everyone okay?” Nicola asked, her eyes doing a scan first of her daughter then of Abby.

“We’re fine, Mummy,” Fenella assured her mother, linking her arm through Abby’s, gently disengaging her from Cash and moving them both toward the Audi. “Let’s get back. I seriously need a cup of tea.”

Fenella, Cash was surprised to see, took charge and got the women in the car and Honor drove the Audi very slowly back up the lane.

Suzanne stayed behind, her eyes on Cash.

He pulled his gaze from the Audi and spared Suzanne a glance before flipping open her phone.

“Cash –” she began.

“Not now, Suzanne,” Cash returned, punching James’s number into the mobile as he spoke.

She, as usual, pushed it “Cash, you should know, Alistair –”

His eyes cut to her and in a voice vibrating with barely controlled rage, Cash repeated, “Not now.”

She watched him a moment and he heard James answer.

He walked away from her.

She got in her car and drove to the castle as Cash gave James his orders.

Nicola, her three daughters, Abby and Cash were in the drawing room. Alistair had left early that morning to do errands unknown and had not yet arrived back home.

Everyone except Cash was sipping tea as Abby then Fenella told their stories to the police.

There were a good deal of knowing looks exchanged between the sisters, even Suzanne, and Abby.

Nicola ignored the knowing looks and held her body rigid as if the slightest movement might shatter it.

Cash also held his body rigid but in an effort to control his impulse to hunt down Alistair Charles Beaumaris and split his skull open against the nearest hard surface.

The police were making preparations to leave when Alistair surged through the door.

The room, already fraught, went wired.

Abby was seated on the sofa, Cash standing by her side. The moment Alistair entered her hand shot out, her fingers closed around his and squeezed.

Tight.

Cash’s body stayed taut for a moment then released and he squeezed back.

Alistair looked, Cash noted with repugnance, excited.

His eyes swept the room and fell on Cash. The excitement melted and for a moment Alistair looked startled before he hid it.

“What happened?” Alistair asked, walking further into the room. “When I drove up, I saw your car wrecked, there’s police crawling all over it. What’s going on?”

“Abby had an accident,” Nicola said, her voice soft, her eyes on Alistair and they were intense. She stood and continued. “Fenella was in the car with her.”

Cash watched as Alistair blanched then his gaze moved to Fenella. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” Fenella replied, but her tone was sharp.

Alistair looked to Abby. “Abby, how are you?”

“Alive,” Abby answered, her voice cold, her eyes shooting icicles at his uncle across the expanse.

Alistair’s gaze skittered across the room, avoiding everyone else’s and coming to rest on the police. “Well thank goodness everyone’s all right.”

“Yes,” Nicola declared firmly, “thank goodness.”

The police, who had paused in their exit, began to move again, one of the men saying, “We have everything we need, we’ll call if –”

Suzanne interrupted him. “Excuse me.”

They stopped and turned to her as she went on, something shifting on her face, looking at first calculating then shifting swiftly to demure.

Cash braced.

Suzanne kept talking. “I’m sorry, I mean, this is probably nothing. A freak coincidence but…”

She trailed off, playing what Cash knew was a game, as did Abby. Abby scooted closer to him on the couch and her hand tightened in his as they waited for Suzanne to speak.

“What is it?” one of the police asked.

“Well, it’s only that, Cash here,” she motioned to Cash with a flick of her wrist and Abby’s hand flexed spasmodically in his, “see, his father died in a car wreck,” Suzanne finished, what sounded inanely.

Both policemen shifted awkwardly on their feet, their eyes going to Cash.

“I’m sorry, sir,” one of the police mumbled.

“No,” Suzanne went on to announce, “you don’t understand. Foul play was suspected.”

Cash felt Abby’s body jerk through his hand and his own eyes riveted on Suzanne.

“It was?” the policeman asked.

“Yes, indeed it was,” Suzanne answered blithely. “They never pinned it on anyone but, you know, it does seem an odd coincidence that Cash’s father might have been murdered and here we are, decades later, and Cash’s expensive, high performance, Italian sports car which was, I assume, running smoothly last night during its trek from Somerset to Devon, this morning, with no warning, strangely both accelerates on its own and its brakes go out, both at the same time.” Suzanne licked her lips, sat back in her chair and finished. “I mean, don’t you think that’s utterly bizarre?”

Alistair cut in and all eyes moved to him as he declared, “Nothing was ever proved.”

“I know nothing was every proved, Alistair,” Suzanne shot back. “That doesn’t change the fact that foul play was suspected. The police, you’ll no doubt agree, should have all the facts.” Her eyes moved to the police. “It was a long time ago but I’m sure there’s still a case file somewhere.”

Alistair moved further into the room, his eyes narrowing on Suzanne.

“Nothing was ever proved,” he insisted.

“You said that already,” Suzanne returned mildly.

Alistair’s gaze flicked to Cash then to the police. “There’s no reason to dredge that up again just because of an accident. We’re planning a celebration tonight and it will only serve to distress my family, my nephew –”

“It does seem weird,” Fenella piped up, interrupting Alistair.

“Very peculiar,” Honor added.

Cash saw Nicola’s mouth twitch in a way that looked like she was trying to control a smile before she turned her face away.

“You see,” Suzanne smoothly carried on, “Anthony Beaumaris was a rich and powerful man. Now his son is. It could be someone has it out for him and his family. We could all be in danger.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Alistair spat.

Nicola turned to her husband. “I don’t know if it’s ridiculous considering Abby and Fenella were in that car. If someone’s after Cash they couldn’t know Abby would drive his car. It was the first time Abby ever touched the steering wheel. And it could have been any one of us sitting beside her. If someone intends Cash harm, what happened this morning proves that we could all be in danger.”

“You’re not in danger,” Alistair retorted.

“I was today,” Fenella reminded him and Alistair’s narrowed eyes shot to her.

Then Alistair turned to the police declaring, “This is rubbish.”

“It doesn’t sound like rubbish to me,” Honor commented. “How often does this happen? I mean, this kind of thing doesn’t happen to most people even once, but now it’s happened to Cash twice? That’s just plain weird.”

“We’ll look into it,” one of the police muttered, obviously desiring not to be caught in the middle of a family squabble and they again turned to leave.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Suzanne encouraged, standing and giving them a charming smile as she moved their way and Cash watched her eyes warming to an inviting, suggestive allure that Cash was used to having directed at him. She touched one of the police on his arm and murmured, “I’ll just walk you to your car.”

Watching her walk the police out, Cash reconsidered allowing Suzanne to stay at the castle.

And definitely Honor and Fenella could stay.

Abby’s hand released his as she rose and looked at Nicola.

“I’m so sorry. Every time I’m here it seems I’m having some kind of acci –” she started.

Cash watched, surprised, as Nicola’s eyes sliced to Abby and her voice was unusually forceful when she interrupted, “Don’t you apologise. You have nothing to apologise for. Not one thing.”

At the fierceness in her tone everyone in the room went still except Cash. He moved to Abby’s side and slid an arm around her waist.

Abby and Nicola stared at each other and finally Nicola blinked and turned away.

“Right!” she exclaimed shrugging off her mood. “I’ve a million and one things to do. Honor, go rescue those policemen from Suzanne, I need her. Fenella, you take a rest and when you feel up to it, find me. Abby, you and Cash try to salvage your afternoon,” her gaze turned to Alistair, “and you…” she paused giving him an unreadable look, “do whatever it is you do.”

Then she hurried from the room.

Honor glanced at Cash and Abby before she followed her mother.

Cash put pressure on Abby’s waist and started to lead her from the room but he was intercepted by Alistair putting a hand to his arm.

“Cash,” he started, “son, you don’t believe –”

Cash’s eyes had gone to his arm when Alistair touched him but they cut to his uncle as Cash pulled his arm away.

“Don’t ever,” Cash’s voice was lethal, “call me ‘son’.”

Cash saw red started creeping up his uncle’s neck as Alistair took a step back and Cash continued moving, guiding Abby to their room.

Once they arrived, he shut the door and Abby stormed deep into the room.

Then she started pacing.

Then she started ranting, however she did this quietly.

“I do not believe,” she hissed, “that Alistair tried to kill you.”

“Abby –” Cash started but she talked over him.

“On the day of his anniversary! Valentine’s Day!” she snapped. “Nicola has been planning this for nine months! Nine!” she clipped, lifting both hands up to Cash to show him nine fingers. “And he attempts the murder of my boyfriend,” she thumped her chest for emphasis, “on Nicola’s special day!”

Cash bit back a smile at her words and tried again, “Darling, calm –” but she kept going.

“He tried to kill you on Valentine’s Day,” she repeated, “and nearly killed his stepdaughter!”

Cash leaned his shoulders against the door and crossed his arms on his chest deciding to let her get it out. She needed to vent so they could move on with the weekend and she could keep her wits about her. She was going to need them.

He watched her pace and rant, her arms waving around. He thought, regardless of their murderous circumstances (now both Cash and Abby were on different firing lines), she looked quite adorable in her muted fury.

And while he watched her something suddenly occurred to him. Something he hadn’t considered before. Something vital that freed a lock deep inside him that he didn’t know was secured.

Throughout their short relationship, she reminded him of his mother, not in good ways, but in bad. Her mood swings, erratic behaviour and the depth of her pain which he could not fathom, nor did he think he could do anything about.

He thought about Abby manically packing her bag, taking too many pills to kill unknown pain, raving about a ghost.

He was used to this bizarre and alarming behaviour from his mother. He was used to a life of hour-to-hour, even sometimes minute-to-minute, not knowing where her crazed mind would take her, dragging Cash along with her.

And he’d accepted it from Abby but held himself aloof, protecting himself with an exit plan.

But Abby wasn’t mentally ill.

Abby was simply spirited. She also had been in the final throes of escaping a deep grief that had her imprisoned in its grip for four years.

She was now over that grief. She had let her guard down and given herself to him.

Not only that, she was putting herself in danger for no other reason but to make his legacy safe. It had nothing to do with her but she was doing it anyway.

Risking her life.

For Cash.

When his thoughts came back to the room, the edge he’d carried all his life had faded away. The peace he felt with Abby settled around him like a warm, nurturing shroud.

And at that moment, Cash Fraser vowed he was going to keep that peace and the only person in his life who’d ever given it to him.

Not for awhile.

Forever.

Abby completely missed his life-altering resolution and was still seething. “It took everything I had not to walk right across the room and kick him in the shin.”

He grinned at the visual she created, uncrossed his arms and walked to her as she stood, no longer pacing but planted and solid and glaring at him.

He stopped close and slid his arms around her. “Are you done?”

“No,” she snapped.

He waited. She was silent.

Then she took in a deep breath and said, “Okay, maybe I’m done.”

Cash burst out laughing and while doing so he felt her body relax. She leaned into him and wrapped her arms around him.

He looked down at her to see she’d tipped her head back to watch him laugh. The anger had gone out of her face. The awe he’d seen only once had replaced it.

Then she whispered, “I love it when you laugh.”

That shroud drew closer, grew warmer and his arms tightened around her.

He didn’t comment on her words, instead he asked, “Are you okay?”

“You mean after crashing your fabulously expensive sports car into a wall?” she queried in return.

He felt his mouth twitch. “Yes, after that.”

“Pretty much,” she replied. “Though now, if we have to make a quick getaway, we have no wheels.”

“A rental will be delivered within the hour,” Cash told her.

She looked surprised for a minute then she smiled and relaxed further into him.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“No, but I will be,” he answered.

Her arms gave him a squeeze and her head tipped to the side. “What do you think Suzanne is up to?”

“No idea,” Cash replied.

Though he did have an idea, however he was willing to ride it out and see where it took them.

“Surprising ally,” Abby whispered.

Cash bent his head and put his mouth to the skin below her ear, not wanting to talk about Suzanne, not wanting to talk at all, and murmured, “Indeed.”

As his tongue touched her neck, Cash felt her body tremble against his and immediately he started walking her backward toward the bed.

She didn’t resist and her hands slid up his back but she commented softly, “You seem weird today.”

Cash’s mouth glided to her jaw then across her cheek to her lips.

“Not weird,” he said against her mouth.

“I –” she started but her legs hit the bed and Cash kept moving, forcing her body to fall back, his going with her, his mouth taking hers in a kiss before he landed on top of her on the bed.

One of her hands sliding in his hair, she kissed him back.

They would, Cash thought before his mind cleared of everything but Abby, her perfume, her soft body under his, her hands on him, talk later.

Right then, Cash was intent on salvaging the afternoon.