The Abby Green Modern Collection. ABBY GREEN

      ‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m absolutely fine. We’ll go.’

      The rest of the journey was made in silence as Maggie fell asleep and Caleb wrestled with countless disturbing thoughts and feelings. Something just didn’t…fit. When he’d walked around the house with her mother, all she’d talked about was her first husband, as if he were the one who had just died…and not Tom Holland. Maybe it was some form of self-protection? But he didn’t think so. He’d mentioned Tom Holland once and she’d gone pale and changed the subject immediately. All in all, she seemed far too…happy…for someone who’d just been bereaved and not only that. She was far too happy for someone who’d just been disinherited of millions of pounds.

      He shook his head grimly. Felt as if he was in new territory, somewhere he’d never wanted to be. The boundaries were shifting. He took in Maggie’s sleeping form and stretched out a hand to tuck some errant hair back behind one delicate ear. She moved slightly against his hand and smiled a tiny smile. Something didn’t fit…at all. But did he really want to find out what that was?

      

      When they returned to the apartment that night after the ball Maggie kicked her shoes off just inside the door—her feet were aching. Her nerves were on a knife-edge. All evening Caleb had been watching her, scrutinising her. It was making her nervous. She went into the kitchen to put on the kettle. She sensed Caleb come in and lean against the door frame. Finally she couldn’t stand it any more and whirled around. ‘What…what is it? You’ve been staring at me all night.’

      His eyes ran up and down her body, leisurely and explicit, and she felt a hot flush invade her skin.

      ‘I don’t like it.’

      ‘Yes, Maggie, you do.’

      He strolled towards her. She couldn’t go anywhere. She was backed against the counter and suddenly remembered that other night in the kitchen when she’d practically ravished him. She went even redder.

      ‘My, what blushes. What could possibly be going through that head of yours?’

      He was almost touching her. His hand lifted and cupped her jaw, caressing, moulding, his fingers tracing the line.

      He fixated on her mouth for long seconds and Maggie’s breathing felt far too loud. Her heart was hammering. Her nerves were screaming.

      Just do it…kiss me!

      Instead, he seemed to wage some inner struggle and met her eyes. He saw the pulse beating at her temple, under the translucent skin.

      ‘Are you going to tell me what that was all about earlier?’

      ‘What…earlier?’ She was genuinely mystified and had trouble concentrating when he was so close.

      ‘Your car, Maggie. The whole song and dance to get your mother off the subject.’

      She stiffened. He could sense her distancing herself even though she couldn’t physically get away. He had that sensation of her feeling cornered again.

      ‘What do you mean? There was nothing going on.’

      ‘Please. Spare me.’

      He brought his arms either side of her body. They brushed against the sides of her breasts. She closed her eyes for a split second. It was so unfair of him to question her like this, when she felt so…weak.

      He could see her struggle.

      Could see the shutters descend over those lovely eyes, which now flashed a stormy green.

      ‘It was nothing, Caleb. She thinks I have some adolescent attachment to the car, but I outgrew it years ago. Believe me, I hated it, couldn’t wait to get rid of it.’ She shrugged lightly. ‘When she saw the new one…she just wouldn’t let it drop. That’s all.’

      He hadn’t made millions from not being able to read people and, right now, he knew Maggie was lying through her teeth. But why? And what did it mean if she was? A door slammed in his head. He did not want to go there.

      He let his gaze wander down. She looked sexily prim and proper tonight. Her hair had been straightened and pulled back into a low chignon. The high-necked designer gown hugged every curve, hiding far too much and conversely revealing everything. He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her into him. She melted against him, a tinge of pink along each cheek bone. He told himself he didn’t care. Why was he even bothering to question her about it, anyway? All he wanted from her was right here in his arms. She was warm and willing and oh, so ready.

      ‘Fine, Maggie, whatever you say…’ and he bent his head and moulded her every curve to his hard length, took her soft lips and kissed her until he felt her legs weaken. Then he led her into the bedroom, opened every button on her dress, kissing each piece of flesh as he did so, by which time she was boneless with want and need. As Caleb came over her, dark and powerful, Maggie had one last coherent thought of thanks that he hadn’t felt the need to pursue the matter. And lost herself in him. Again.

      

      Caleb woke early. A misty dawn light illuminated the bedroom. Maggie was tucked into his side, nestled close, one leg thrown over his, disturbingly close to a part of him that was already responding to her proximity. An arm was flung over his belly and her head rested on his chest. Her hair streamed out like a silken caress over his other arm, which held her in this close embrace. He wanted to pull Maggie even closer. Breathe in the scent of her hair, stroke that thigh that hovered so close, have her move her hand down until she could feel for herself what she was doing to him. She felt so good—every soft curve and smooth, silky bit of skin. Her breasts were pressing into his side. He was growing harder. He never wanted to let her go.

      What?

      He tensed. Wide awake now. Violently awake. Without thinking about what he was doing, he slowly and stealthily managed to extricate himself from her embrace and didn’t wake her. His body hummed with arousal. She tossed for a second and he held his breath but then she curled away on the other side and he could hear her breaths deepen again. With her back bared, he could see faint bruises. He had done that? Then something caught his eye—on the back of her thigh, he could see a very pink puckering of the skin, a scar of some kind. It looked as if it had been very angry at some stage, but he guessed it was years old. He wanted to reach out and touch it.

      That thought galvanised him into action.

      Enough!

      He was mooning over his mistress as she lay sleeping. His mistress—that was all she was; he had to remember that.

       CHAPTER TEN

      ‘MR CAMERON, you’re leaving early…again?’

      Caleb looked up as he shrugged on his jacket to see Ivy at the door of his office.

      ‘Yes. I presume, as the CEO of the Cameron Corporation, I’m allowed that distinction?’ Something in her voice had him sharply on the defensive and he regretted it straight away when he saw an embarrassed flush stain the older woman’s cheeks.

      ‘Well…of course, Mr Cameron, I never meant to imply for a second—’

      ‘Ivy, I’m sorry. It’s me. I’m just tired, that’s all.’

      ‘Of course. This deal with New York is trying all of our patience.’

      Yes, it was. And all Caleb wanted to do was go home, walk through that door and see Maggie. Two words had him halt mentally. Home and Maggie. Since when was that designer apartment home and since when did he long to see Maggie?

      Since she’d made it a home…since her toiletries nestled alongside yours…since the smell of home cooking greeted you almost every night…since you’ve been happy to sit in and watch movies…

      He cut off his thoughts with a ruthless effort.

      ‘Do