The Abby Green Modern Collection. ABBY GREEN
jerkily, glad to see that, despite his cool, rational words, he was breathing fast too, his eyes dark and pupils dilated. His hand went to her jeans and she lifted her hips so he could pull them off.
Her eyes followed his hands as they undid his belt and it snaked through the loops on his trousers just below his taut stomach. She breathed in, her stomach tight with desire, slid off the island and opened the button on his trousers herself, pressing kisses to his chest, finding a nipple, biting gently.
His hand captured her head and she heard a whistle of breath escape through his teeth. ‘Maggie, Maggie, what are you doing to me?’
He stilled her hand and picked her up, carrying her into the bedroom. He placed her down on the bed and stripped off his trousers and briefs. Then he pulled her panties down, over her hips and off. Invaded by a wanton, hitherto unexplored need, she instinctively arched her back, her hips rising to meet him as he spread her legs with his thigh. He leant back for a second and, getting protection, rolled it on, then he pressed down, close over her whole body and thrust in, so completely and deeply that she cried out. The spiral of ecstasy finally obliterated all coherent, troubling thoughts. Just as she’d wished and hoped for.
‘More wine?’
Maggie shook her head and placed a hand over her glass. She was still finding it hard to meet Caleb’s eyes. An hour after dinner had been ready, they were eating.
And all because…all because…
Maggie wished the ground would just open up and let her disappear. She had begged him to kiss her, not to stop. She had practically ripped his clothes off him. She had initiated an act of lovemaking that had combusted around them like a white-hot flame. She’d been half naked in the kitchen. An awful mortification twisted her insides.
He’d taken her hard and fast and so totally that she still felt dizzy. And she knew it had been motivated purely by her desire to avoid being faced with his indifference to her feelings—feelings she wasn’t ready to acknowledge. That was a route to self-destruction if ever there was one.
‘Maggie?’
Reluctantly, she forced herself to meet his gaze.
‘Do you want to tell me what’s causing that pained expression on your face? Or will I just assume it was my cooking?’
Her gaze slipped away, then back. Of course he’d be used to his mistresses taking the initiative; they’d no doubt be far more experienced than her in the ways of lovemaking to keep a man like Caleb happy. In contrast to her inner agitation, he seemed to think nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. She forced a bland, cool look and smiled. ‘Nothing, and your chicken was…delicious.’
It had been sublime, cooked to perfection. And would have been even better had they eaten it when it had been ready. That thought made her cringe inwardly again.
‘Flattery?’ he mocked with a raised brow. ‘Trying to throw me off the scent of something, Maggie?’
She couldn’t be that transparent, could she? She could feel a red tide ascending.
‘Your blushes make you as easy to read as a book.’
A sudden pain gripped her. Thank God he thought he had her so well sized up that every time she blushed it meant the opposite to what she was really feeling. But the pain struck sharp. She got up to clear away the plates. When she came back in, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her down into his lap.
‘What?’ Why did she have to sound so breathless? And why was her body coming to vibrant life so easily? Traitor.
‘I’ve got a surprise for you…You didn’t spot anything outside when you came back?’
Maggie shook her head. Where was this going?
‘I wanted to show you earlier, but then you were so late…and we got distracted.’
He felt Maggie tense against his body. She was such a mass of contradictions. Making love to him with an intensity and passion he’d never encountered, only to spend the next hour avoiding his eyes. He was used to having to firmly extricate himself from cloying embraces after making love and with Maggie…she was the complete opposite, couldn’t wait to get away from him. And, for the first time, he actually felt a little…piqued.
But then she was nothing but a heartless, mercenary…he wanted to say bitch, but it felt wrong. He couldn’t actually say the word, even in his head. In an effort to avoid thinking about it, he stood abruptly, taking Maggie with him. Her serious eyes were focused on his face; he could feel a responding heat unfurl just under her look.
‘Come downstairs; I’ll show you.’
He took her hand and led her out of the apartment. Down the lift, to the door and out into the rapidly darkening night. They were on the street.
‘Well?’ he asked a little impatiently after a few minutes’ silence.
Maggie looked up and down, more and more bemused. ‘Caleb, I don’t know what you want me to—’ She stopped suddenly and he felt her hand tighten on his. ‘My car…my car is gone…It was just here…’ She pulled free and stepped closer to the road. ‘Where…? I mean, I parked it just here. I know I did.’ She could feel panic start to rise and turned to face him. ‘Maybe it’s been towed. I paid the meter earlier, though; no one could possibly want to take it—’
‘Maggie, stop.’ Caleb came and turned her back round to face the cars parked on the street. He brought his arms around her body and pointed at a gleaming brand-new Mini Cooper, sitting in exactly the same spot as her car had been.
‘No…my one was old, remember?’ she said, slightly bitterly in light of his recent opinion on why she might own a car like it.
‘I got it towed away, Maggie. It was an accident waiting to happen, believe me. This is your new car.’ He dangled a key in front of her face.
What? Just like that?
‘But…I…Where…what did you do with mine?’
‘It’s probably the size of a tin can by now.’
As Maggie was still held in the circle of his arms, her back to him, she couldn’t stop the wobble in her lip. She felt inexplicably as though Caleb had just pulled her soul out, wrung it dry and handed it back. She knew it was just a car, but it had been hers, the first thing she’d bought. A symbol of her independence from Tom. She’d taught her mother how to drive in it. And now, without so much as a by your leave, Caleb had thrown it away.
She bit down furiously on her lip to stop the tremble. There was no way he could know how much this hurt her—he’d probably think she was just acting again. He was still dangling the key. She picked it out of his hand—still hadn’t said anything, couldn’t trust herself. He let her go and she walked over. It was so silly, she knew, to be this upset. And she was angry. She blinked her eyes, ignored the ache in her heart, took a deep breath and turned around with a huge smile on her face. ‘It’s beautiful. Sorry, I was just stunned…I’ve never…I mean it’s been so long since anyone gave me a gift so generous…’
The anger and pain galvanised her actions; she came back and reached up to kiss him and pouted prettily. ‘I presume it’ll be mine after the two months are up? After all, I do need a car…’ here she trailed a finger down his front and the gesture jarred uncomfortably with him ‘…and the jewels too…?’
She looked up coquettishly from under long lashes and could see the hoped for reaction set in, the hardening of his jaw, that harsh glitter in his eyes. She was acting true to the form he expected. And it made her sick inside. But also, bizarrely, for some reason, protected.
‘Of course.’ As much as he detested her behaviour, he could feel a sense of relief flood through him. Had he actually for one moment thought that she was anything other than this? What a fool! It somehow helped to justify giving her priceless gems, even the car.
It was no less than he’d given