A Murderous Game (13 page)

Abby melted—again. She wanted to
press her hands to his sculpted cheeks. She wanted to pull his head down and
feel those gorgeous lips on...
Wrong!
No pulling his head down. No lips.
She could cut him a break on the cruel and unusual punishment, but that was it.

She stiffened her spine for what
ridiculous little resolve a straight back could give her. Attitude was
everything, right?

"If you choose not to forgive
me, I'd understand." He lifted her chin and looked directly into her eyes.
"If you'd be willing to let me make it up to you though, I promise you
won't regret it."

He wanted her forgiveness so things
wouldn't be awkward if she had to pinch hit on
Riv
One, nothing more. It would be better, too, if she didn't have to worry about
running into him or hiding out in the ladies' room if he dropped by the office.

Maybe they could even be friends.
He did seem sincere. And she had withheld telling him about her relationship
with Dick because she knew it would cause a problem. If she'd just been up
front to begin with, maybe none of this would have happened.

She didn't want to stay mad at him.
Angling her head, she grinned and in the spirit of good humor, asked,
"You're not afraid if we kiss and make up that I might stalk you?"

He held her gaze and gave her a
sexy smile. "I can only hope."

Lord, she
thought,
how could any woman look into those eyes when he smiled that way and not fall
hopelessly in love?

Abby laughed. She couldn't help it.
Maybe she should have made him sweat a little, but it felt much better to be
his friend than to think he hated her. Now that he'd be Harold's client and not
hers, maybe… She gave herself a quick reality slap. Just reel those fantasies
right back in. Man! Did she
want
to self-destruct?

She took a step back and extended
her hand. "I guess if you can forget that silly little obsession I had
with you and my father threatening to have you arrested." She smiled to
cover the lingering embarrassment. "Then I can forgive you for not
trusting me."

He took her hand and brought it to
his lips. Abby watched as if in a dream. Could he feel her racing pulse? 
She shouldn't read anything into the gesture. It was simply that, a gesture.

"Thank you," he said
quietly, his eyes never leaving her face.

"You're welcome." She
pulled back and turned away. "What's that?" she asked, spying the
white box on the counter and making a dash for it. She needed to put space
between them and regain some equilibrium.

"It's for you, a
surprise."

"Let me guess." She
picked it up and shook it near her ear. "Candy."

He chuckled warmly, amusement
twinkling in his eyes. "If I hadn't already told you, I might be
impressed."

Abby peeled back the tape.
"The box is a dead giveaway. I shouldn't admit this, but you probably
could have saved yourself a lot of groveling." She gave the box another
rattle. "Once you gave me these I would have considered you a friend
forever. I'm a sucker for chocolate."

Gage put his hands in his pockets
and watched as she pulled the lid up. Abby folded back the paper and her eyes
grew wide.

"Oh!" She brought a hand
to her mouth. "Oh my God, where did you—" She shot him a disbelieving
glance. "
Ba-nan-a
taf-fy
,"
she whispered haltingly.

"You used to come into my
uncle's shop almost every day to buy it." He grinned and Abby swore she
could feel the warmth of his smile on her skin. "I think the only reason
it came back to me is because you never got anything but banana. I wish I could
recall more, but I'm still having a hard time matching you up with the kid I
remember. If you recall, though, I did say you reminded me of someone, so I
must not have been totally oblivious."

Abby held the box against her
chest, a warm, sweet feeling spreading through her.

"I drove to the shore this
morning to get it. My uncle never opens the shop until Memorial Day weekend. I
had to do some heavy-duty bartering before he'd take me down so I could make
that for you."

"You made it?" That
revelation made her heart do a funny little flip-flop.

Gage shrugged. "After two
summers of mixing and pulling, you get pretty good at it. I figure I can always
fall back on it if my current gig doesn't work out. There's no telling how many
taffy pullers have that on their resume: failed corporate CEO."

He hitched his head toward the box
and gave her a lopsided grin. "You used to be addicted to that stuff. I
figured if the flowers didn't do the trick, I'd try to bribe you with the
taffy."

Abby started to laugh. Gage crossed
his arms and frowned at her. She laughed harder until tears rolled down her
cheeks, and she reached up to wipe them away.

Gage's frown grew. "Would you
mind telling me what's so funny?"

Abby set the candy on the counter.
"I'm sorry," she coughed on another laugh. "But I, it's just
that you went to all this trouble and well, I've never liked taffy."

He stared at her a full moment then
put his hands on his hips. "Then would you like to explain why the hell
you used to come into my uncle's shop all the time and buy the damn
stuff?"

"Oh." She hiccupped.
"That was just an excuse." She caught her bottom lip on a smile.
"I only came in to buy it because I wanted to see you. You know, that
silly little crush thing. Even if I had wanted it, I couldn't eat it.
Braces," she said, showing off her hard-won, perfect orthodontia. "I
had them until I was eighteen."

"So what did you do with the
candy when you left the store?"

Abby lifted her shoulders. "I
used to give it to the homeless people on the boards."

He shook his head, picked his wine
up off the counter, and took a drink. He put it back down and looked at her. He
shook his head again. "So I drove all the way down the shore this morning
to get you banana taffy, and you don't even like it."

She lifted her palms to the air and
shrugged again. "Sorry."

"You know I had to promise my
uncle I'd spend two weekends deep sea fishing with him this summer if he'd open
the shop for me?"

Abby bit back a laugh. Gage pushed
his fingers through his hair. "God, I hate fishing." He shook his
head yet again and leaned his hip against the counter. "The thought of
spending two weekends floating around in a fiberglass sweat tank under the burning
sun, dangling a silly line in the water makes me want to groan. I don't even
like fish." He let out a snort. "Not that I ever catch any."

Abby wanted to wrap her arms around
him and give him a hug but knew better than to act on the impulse. It would be
a mistake. He'd only wanted to set things right between them for the sake of
the account, and maybe a little bit because they'd started to become friends.
Still, she wanted him to know how much it meant to her that he'd gone to so
much effort to mend things between them.

"Gage, I think going to the
shore to get me taffy was an incredibly nice thing to do. And even if I don't
like it, I'm very touched you went to so much effort because you thought I did.
And, I hope now that everything's out in the open we can start over and become
friends."

He gave her a sideward glance. He
had an odd light in his eyes when he asked, "How much?"
    

Abby wasn't sure how to interpret
the question, but something in his expression made her body start to hum again,
like it always did when he looked at her a certain way. The way he looked at
her now. She'd never experienced anything like it with another person.

"How much what?" she
asked, the pull so strong it almost frightened her. She leaned into the counter
as if needing an anchor to hold her in place.

"How much does it touch
you?" His eyes were smoldering depths of forbidden passion. They traveled
over her face like clouds brushing across the sky…shades of gray…deep and
mysterious…smoky and forbidden.

"I just think it was nice. Not
necessary, but nice. After all, you had no way of knowing I wasn't still
married to Dick. You were trying to protect your company. I'm just glad the
truth's
out,
and we can put all the other stuff behind
us."

Picking up her glass, she headed
back toward the living room. "I'm sure you've already considered there may
be occasions when I have to cover for Harold Billings on your account. It'll go
a lot smoother if we can be professionals about it."

Gage followed her out. "That's
the other thing I wanted to talk about."

Abby turned. He stood in the
kitchen doorway, his left hand in his pocket, the other holding the glass of
wine, a picture of sophisticated elegance.

"What about it?" she
asked, wondering if it would ever be possible for her to look at him and not be
affected.

"I'm putting you back on the
account."

~~~

Gage had anticipated an argument.
Although he wanted her agreement, he felt an odd satisfaction at having
predicted her reaction so accurately. It meant he was beginning to know her,
and getting to know Abby held enormous appeal.

Her concerns were grounded. He knew
it would be awkward for her. But he would have what he wanted and, after
working with Billings
for a week, he'd had enough of the guy.

He held firm until Abby relented.
Once she accepted the situation, she moved right into problem solving mode.
Gage was pleased with how quickly she could shift gears. If she approached
other situations the same way, it would be a definite asset when they bumped up
against problems on
Riv
One. It only confirmed his
resolve to have her back on the account.

"So tell me exactly what you
plan to say to Mr. Norwell?" Abby sat in one of two matching chairs on
either side of a large trunk in her living room with her feet tucked up under
her legs. Gage sat in the other wondering if it would scare her off if he
kissed her.

She leaned forward, elbows on her
knees, and regarded him, her expression serious as she awaited his reply.

"I'm going to tell him I've
decided to work with you instead of Billings."

She rolled her eyes toward the
ceiling. "You can't just say that. He'll want to know why."

"Because that's what I want.
He'll get his money no matter who handles the account, so I doubt he'll
care."

"He'll think you're not
satisfied with Harold."

"I'm not. I don't like the
guy." He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees to match her
position and smiled. "I like you, Abby."

She looked at him as if to say
get
serious
. He loved the way her expressions could tell a story when she
allowed them to.

"Gage," she said, a bit
of school teacher in her tone that he got a real kick out of. "I know
you're probably used to saying
jump
and people saying
was that high
enough?
B
ut when it's just
me, Norwell, and Billings,
they're going to start asking
me
why."

"And you can tell them if they
want the answer to that question, they need to ask me."

"But you said you're just
going to say it's because that's what you want, with no further
explanation."

"Look, Abby, you don't want
Norwell to know we were already working together, right?" She gave a
reluctant nod. "I have no problem telling the guy I think Billings is a worm. I
won't because you said you didn't want me to do that. But you were excited
about working on
Riv
One before, weren't you?"

"Yes," she sighed, nodding
again.

"All right
then, I really think the less said the better.
Trust me on this. Norwell
might scratch his head, but he'll do what I ask. Just act like you're as
surprised as they are, and everything will blow over in a day or two."

"Oh, believe me." She
rested her chin in her hands. "I won't have to act. Every time you and I
have an encounter I walk away from it surprised."

He laughed. "I hope at least
one or two of them have been pleasant ones."

She sat back and put her hands on
her knees again.
"One or two."

His gaze lingered on her mouth. The
place he wanted his to be. "I should be going. I didn't even ask, but you
might have had plans." He stood up.

She didn't confirm or deny it, which
made him wonder if she might have a late night date. How many men had been
waiting for Abby to rejoin the ranks of eligible female?

She stood up as well.
"Actually I do, but they're flexible."

Gage frowned. He didn't like the
idea of having to compete for Abby's affections, especially when he didn't know
how many other men had their hats in the ring.

He followed her to the door.
Mine
.
The thought rang in his head with a possessive zing. Wanting her exclusively
for himself should concern him, but it didn't. He'd never been possessive of a
woman, but in the case of Abby, nothing so far had followed his usual patterns.

"I'm glad you came." Abby
gave him a warm smile when they reached the front door. "I know things are
going to be weird at the office for a few days, but I really am happy I'll be
working on the account again."

She reached out to shake his hand.
He glanced at it but didn't take it. He wanted to seal their deal with more
than a handshake. Besides, he had one more gift for her.

He fished into his back pocket.
"This belongs to you. I thought you might like to have it."

Abby stared at the small red suede
book he held in his outstretched hand. He heard her intake of breath. Her eyes
slowly rose to his. "My diary," she breathed. Her voice was a mere
whisper of disbelief. Her fingers trembled as she took it from him. "How
did you?"

As he gazed down at her, the image
of a young girl running away with tears streaming down her cheeks rose in his
memory, and a part of him wished he could go back in time and wipe those tears
away.