The Abby Green Modern Collection. ABBY GREEN

seduce him and distract him. To act as the honey trap. One of the oldest tricks in the book. If he wasn’t mistaken, he was sure he’d seen the distinctive shape of a key in her pocket as he’d taken her coat. Was it a key to a hotel room there? The disgust rose like bile.

      But two could play at that game; he was here to seduce her too. A little luxury he was affording himself, the spoils of war. Because this was war. Since he’d felt that punch to his gut on first sight, had then discovered what their little game was, the way she’d so blatantly been put on display for him…he’d been determined to sample what was on offer.

      They reached the table.

      Maggie walked to the other side and faced him with a look of almost, for a fleeting moment…unbelievable trepidation on her face. He mentally shook his head. Hell, she was good. He’d never seen anything like the level of her guile. He reasserted his cool mental clarity, ignored the ache in his loins. The slow burning fire that would be sated.

      She would soon know just how dismally their machinations had failed. Then he would take his revenge on her family. And then he would be free of this all-consuming desire that held him in its grip.

      By the end of the night she would never…ever forget him or want to cross his path again.

       CHAPTER ONE

      Dublin, six months later…

      ‘WE JUST have to meet with Mr Murphy and then it’s all over.’ In the back of the car as they left the graveyard, Maggie took her mother’s hand in hers, concerned by her ashen pallor.

      Her mother drew in a shaky breath. ‘Love, I don’t think I can sit through it…I really don’t—’

      Maggie tightened her hand in comfort as her mother’s eyes filled and her mouth trembled.

      She turned stricken eyes to her daughter. ‘I’m not sad…Is that terrible? I’m so relieved that he’s finally gone; when I think of what I put you through all these years, how I could have—’

      ‘Shh, Mum. Don’t think about it now. It’s over. He’ll never harm either of us again. We’re free.’

      Her heart ached at the desolation in her mother’s eyes, the lines on her face, the lifeless hair scraped back. She had once been a beautiful, vibrant woman. The reason why Tom Holland had wanted her for himself after her father’s untimely death. He’d been pathologically jealous of his cousin.

      In those days, as a young widow in Ireland with nothing but the house left to her and a small child, Maggie’s mother had been vulnerable. When Tom had promised to look after her if she married him, she had thought she was doing the best thing for her and her daughter. It was only after the wedding that his vicious cruelty had become apparent and, in a notoriously conservative society where divorce hadn’t been allowed until relatively recently, her mother had effectively been trapped. Until now.

      ‘Look, you don’t have to sit in on the reading of the will; it’s going to be a matter of routine anyway. Mr Murphy knows us well enough not to insist on your being there and Tom left everything to you. It’s the least he could have done.’ Maggie’s voice couldn’t hide its bitter edge.

      ‘Oh, really love, do you think so? If I could just take a rest…’

      ‘Of course, everything is going to be fine.’ Maggie tried to inject upbeat energy into her voice when all she felt was drained beyond belief.

      A short time later the car pulled off the main road in the small village outside Dublin and swept through the gates of a large, welcoming country house. Maggie took a deep comforting breath. The first glimpse of the house through the trees that lined the short drive never failed to lift her spirits. It had been their own family home—her father and mother’s. It was the one thing her stepfather hadn’t got his hands on. A link back to happier days, the memories of which she knew had helped her mother get through the worst times. It was here she and her mother had moved back to six months ago, after that…Even now she couldn’t bring herself to think of that night. The pain in her heart was still acute, despite her attempts to ignore it, deny it. The awful humiliation was still vivid.

      Luckily her mother had listened to her and they’d left London almost immediately. By the time Tom had realised that his plan hadn’t worked he’d been too caught up with his business to come after them. And now he was gone for good. Dead. She brought her mother up to her bedroom and was almost at the door when she called her back.

      ‘What is it, Mum?’ Maggie walked over and sat down.

      Her mother’s eyes were suddenly bright and serious. ‘Promise me you’ll never speak of what happened to us…what Tom did to us…I couldn’t bear the shame.’

      She was used to this recurring plea of her mother’s. ‘Of course not…you know I never have; why would I now?’

      Her mother grabbed her hand with surprising strength. ‘Promise me, Margaret.’

      ‘I promise.’ She pressed a kiss to her mother’s forehead and left again. It was a promise she wouldn’t find hard to keep; she had no intention of talking or thinking about Tom Holland ever again if she could help it. Maggie went back downstairs and heard the sound of a car. The solicitor. After hanging up her coat, she quickly smoothed back her hair, opening the door with a smile as the bell sounded. She had always liked the small man with twinkling eyes. Unlike the rest of Tom Holland’s coterie of hangers-on and staff, his local Dublin solicitor had also been her father’s solicitor.

      She showed the older gentleman into the front room. ‘I hope you’ll excuse my mother; she’s not feeling the best.’

      He turned to face Maggie, ‘Nothing serious, I hope?’

      ‘No,’ she quickly assured him, knowing of his genuine concern. ‘She’s just tired and drained from the past few days. But if you need her here—’

      He put up a hand. ‘Actually, maybe it’s better if she doesn’t hear what I have to say.’ Suddenly he couldn’t meet Maggie’s eyes and shifted uncomfortably on his feet. A sliver of fear made her stop breathing for a second. It was too good to be true that Tom Holland was gone. She knew it.

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Maggie let’s sit down. I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.’

      She moved numbly to a chair and watched as the solicitor sat down near a table and put down his briefcase. He didn’t take out any papers. She struggled to stay calm, despite his bleak face.

      ‘What…what is it?’

      He looked up at her finally, his hands stretching out, palms up, empty. ‘I’m afraid that you and your mother have been left with nothing.’

      Her heart started to beat normally again, as she relaxed. It wasn’t too bad. She and her mother hadn’t ever received much from Tom and she had been supporting herself for years since college and was building a modest income from her paintings.

      ‘Well, that’s not the end of the world, is it? But…but where did it all go?’

      They were talking about millions of pounds after all. Mr Murphy sighed; he hated being the bearer of bad news. ‘It would appear that one of his adversaries finally brought him down, lock stock and barrel—the timing is most unfortunate. A tycoon in the UK that your stepfather attempted to take over some time ago has been steadily buying up stock, taking over his companies and on the day Tom had the heart attack the last of his businesses crumbled—a freak coincidence.’

      That would explain his absence, why he hadn’t followed them home, demanded her mother return to London, punished them. Despite the dire news, Maggie couldn’t help the spike of satisfaction that rushed through her; she only wished she could have seen his reaction when he had found out.

      ‘Well, there’s nothing to be done now; at