The American Earl (13 page)

She sighed. “Abby's one fault is that she follows her heart. If you can't give her yours, Matt, walk away from her. It's the kindest thing you will ever do.”

 

In the days that followed, Abby was aware of Matt spending more than his usual time at the office. He cut business meetings down to the few that were crucial. He canceled a trip to the West Coast. It seemed that whenever she left her office to meet with one of the sales reps or someone in clerical, Matt showed up, too.

She felt him watching her, studying her during a
reception they gave for two new clients, all the while turning over secrets in his mind. She wished she knew what they were.

They were rarely alone in a room, but even so she felt the eternal tug of his soul against hers. For a few weeks, they had become one. He had claimed her as no man ever had, or ever could again.

At meetings when they sat at the round, walnut table in the conference room, they were usually across from each other, separated by half a dozen people. The powerful sensation of being drawn to him always came. It was all she could do to stop herself from throwing herself across the table at him.

At times he seemed to be intentionally trying to catch her eye. She would look up from notes or a report, and find his gaze fixed darkly on her. Was he demanding something of her? She couldn't imagine what it might be. Hadn't she given him everything she was capable of giving?

One day she entered his office, thinking he had left for the day. Footsteps sounded behind her, and she turned to find him shutting the door behind them, his gaze firmly fixed on her.

“I'm sorry,” she murmured. “I just came in for the Brinkley file.”

Matt nodded but said nothing. He walked slowly toward her, making her think of a large cat, stalking a rabbit, its muscles tensed to spring, ready to respond to any defensive maneuver.

“I'll go now,” she said.

“Not yet.”

She watched helplessly, unable to move, unable to utter a sound, as he came to within inches of her. She could feel the warmth of his body in the narrow space
of air between them. She fully expected him to trap her in his arms and kiss her feverishly. Instead, he lifted one hand and gently touched the tip of her nose.

“Where are you?” he asked in a husky voice.

She frowned up at him. “I don't understand.”

“Where is your heart now, Abby? With your Richard? With me? Or off in limbo somewhere?”

She gasped at the candor of his question. It took her a moment to gather her wits. “Richard has left. He won't be back,” she answered guardedly.

“And what about the other two options?”

She drew a deep breath, but it failed to make her feel any stronger. “I honestly don't know. We clearly want different things from life. I could give up an awful lot for you, Matt. But not my children, not the hope of spending the rest of my life with one man.”

Now he did kiss her. Lightly. Lingeringly. She felt her heart leap into her throat. Her knees trembled.

“Come back to me,” he whispered. “Live with me. We'll work out the rest, somehow.”

She looked up at him, amazed by what she was hearing. “You want me to move in with you?” Marriage was the missing word. Children apparently fell under the miscellaneous category of “the rest.”

“I don't care about office gossip,” he insisted. “I want you in my life.” His hands were moving up and down her arms, sending chills through her body. His lips touched her temple, her mouth again, her throat. More than anything, she ached to lie with him on cool sheets and let him do all the marvelous things he'd done to her in Bermuda.

But they were in his office, it was daylight, and there was no guarantee of privacy.

“Matt,” she whispered hoarsely.

“Say yes.”

She gently pressed against his chest. “No. There are too many unknowns. I can't risk moving in with you, not knowing what will become of us.”

Frowning down at her, he touched his lips to her cheek. “I know what will become of us. We will be ecstatically happy.”

“That's hormones talking.”

He shook his head. “Much more than that,” he whispered. “Give us another chance. We'll talk and make love and somehow, it will all work out.”

She was as tempted as she had ever been. But a little voice from somewhere in her past warned her to be careful. He was committing to far less than she needed. He was promising her a home with him and wonderful sex and companionship…but to nothing more. When it came down to it, his idea of a successful relationship might be a month or a year. Hers was an eternity. Marriage, though no guarantee, was a firm commitment that she could honor and believe in, if he did the same.

“No, Matt,” Abby said. She touched his face when it contorted with pain. “Not because I don't love you. Don't ever think that. I just believe you won't be able to change. You've removed yourself from your father, from your entire family, really. You've put up an emotional barrier between yourself and everyone else in the world. A man like that can't be trusted.”

“Give me a chance.”

She smiled sadly. “I can't risk my future on a promise that isn't backed up by some kind of proof.” Tears welled up in her eyes and coursed down her cheeks. “Oh, Matt, this is the hardest thing I've ever done.” She wrenched herself out of his arms and
backed quickly toward the door to the reception area. “You'll have my resignation tomorrow. I can't do this any longer.”

Abby ran from his office, not daring to stay a moment longer. Words came too easily to men, it seemed. Richard had made promises too, then changed his mind. The pain of rejection had been nearly unbearable then. But as it turned out, she hadn't even loved the man. If she trusted Matt but he eventually left her, it would destroy her. There was only one way to avoid that. If she walked out of his life now, while she still possessed a few shreds of pride, she might still survive.

T
he days that passed were gray and without purpose, it seemed to the young earl. It didn't matter whether the sun shone or a typhoon struck. A colorless haze had closed around him. He went through the motions of running his business—flew out to L.A. and returned, made a hasty trip for two meetings in Manhattan, signed on a new client. There was no satisfaction and even less joy in the things he had once thought to be the center of his universe.

Even when the day's agenda was packed, Matt felt restless. In the company of others, he felt alone. Abby had left him, and he tried to honor her decision by leaving her alone. He didn't call, didn't visit her apartment. But every day he drove past the building where she lived, and he gazed longingly up at the window he knew to be hers, wondering if she was at home, or off on her own or with someone else.

A month passed, and he made good his promise. Her severance pay was generous and would cover the down payment on a small retail business in a respectable part of town. Along with the check that he had had hand-delivered by one of his people, he included the name of a real estate agent he'd often worked with, and a reliable loan officer who would make sure she received the additional money she needed to start up her business. She was already aware of the major suppliers she would need to buy from; that much she had learned by working at his side.

He felt her loss with heartbreaking bitterness some days, with a sense of oppressive sadness on others. He hadn't wept since the day his mother walked out of his nursery. He came damn close to it on many mornings when he woke alone in his bed. He found a stray red hair on the shoulder of one of his suits, and it nearly undid him.

As the days grew cooler and summer came to an end with the falling of the leaves from the hills surrounding Lake Michigan, his loss became no easier to bear. One day Matt walked into the office and stood over Paula's desk.

She looked up as if she already knew what he was about to say.

“I have to give it one more try,” he said.

She nodded solemnly. “I wish I could say you have a chance. But Abby may have moved on with her life by now.”

“Moved on
…code words for,
found another man.
”

“Possibly.”

He tried to swallow over the sudden rough spot in
his throat, but couldn't. “Have you spoken with her since—” He gestured toward the door.

“We talk now and then,” Paula admitted.

“And?”

“I think she's been dating. But I don't know if anyone serious has come into her life.”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He knew Abby. She wasn't one to do anything foolish like take a random lover on the rebound. But he had awakened desires in her that she hadn't known before. There would be feminine hungers to be fed, eventually. And he wouldn't be there to satisfy them. The thought drove him nearly mad.

“What are you going to do?” Paula asked.

“I realize I can't just ask her to come back to the company, or to me,” he said tightly.

“Right,” she agreed.

“I must do something to prove to her that I've made peace with my past. Only then will she be able to believe I'm capable of truly loving her.”

Paula frowned. “And how do you propose to do that?”

“I haven't worked it all out yet. But I know I'll need your help when the time comes. Here, grab your coat, I'll treat you to breakfast. We need to plan our strategy.”

Paula lifted her leather jacket from the hook beside her desk, but reached for Matt's arm to stop him before he moved toward the door. “Owning her isn't what it's about,” she murmured. “Abby's not just another company to acquire.”

“I know,” he said solemnly.

“Do you love her?”

He didn't miss a beat. “With all my soul.”

 

Abby laid down the loan contract, her eyes lingering on it as she stood up to reach for the ringing phone. Dee rushed into the kitchen. “Oh, you've got it.”

Abby nodded. “Hello?” she said into the receiver.

“It's Paula, honey.”

Abby grinned. “Hey, great to hear from you! How's the gang doing?” She always asked in that way. Impersonal, no names mentioned. Never, ever Matt's.

Paula had told her weeks ago that a new hostess had started working for them, and she seemed to be doing fine. Abby didn't want to think about another woman traveling with Matt, staying in the lovely New York penthouse, sleeping in the breezy Bermuda villa.

“We're all fine…just in a bit of a pinch right now.”

“Oh?” Worry prickles danced along Abby's spine. Although she was no longer working for Matt's company, she would always feel a warm attachment to things important to him. “What's wrong?”

“Kerri, our new hostess, has to go home for a few weeks while her mom has surgery. Matt's had big plans for entertaining some very important people at the house in Bermuda. It means a lot to him. But he can't do it alone, and I can't rush off and leave two teenage boys on their own, even for a day.”

Abby reacted instinctively to Paula's urgent tone. “Is there anything I can do?” Later, she would realize that all she'd intended was to offer to call around and see if she could find a reliable substitute for Kerri.

“There is,” her friend said quickly. “You can step in and be our substitute hostess for a few days.”

Abby drew a sharp breath. “I couldn't. I mean, I have a new job and all.”

“But it will only be for a few days and you know the routine. I can place the orders from here. All you have to do is hop on a plane, supervise the staff as they set things up, show up in a pretty dress and smile at the guests.”

“Sure but, Paula, I honestly don't think I could face Matt. Not there. That house holds too many memories.”

“I know, dear,” she said at last. “It's almost like someone dying, isn't it? You need closure. You need to face Matt one last time. Show him and yourself that you're going to be all right with or without him. Only then will you be at peace with your decision.”

“I don't know…” Abby sighed.

“He needs you,” Paula whispered. “More than you know. You may not believe this, but he's given you more than he's allowed any other woman. Do just this one small favor for him. For all of us. Please.”

Abby closed her eyes. Her head throbbed and hands trembled. Was she really strong enough to do this? “I'll do it for
you,
Paula. I know what a bear he can be when things don't work out his way. He'll be impossible to work with.”

Abby thought she heard a muffled yip of triumph from the other end of the line. “What?”

“Nothing, dear,” Paula said. “I'm just so very relieved. Now let's talk details.”

 

Three days later, Abby arrived at the airport near the St. George's end of the island. Matt's driver was waiting for her just beyond Customs.

“Hello, Ramon, it's good to see you again,” she said as he took her overnight bag from her.

“My wife and I have missed you,” he responded with genuine warmth. “Maria enjoyed having your company.”

“And I enjoyed hers,” Abby admitted, a twinge of regret cutting off further words. Better get straight to business. “Is there a lot to be done before the reception?”

He gave her an odd sideways look. “Not so much. Most of the guests arrived yesterday. The earl has taken them for a day-long fishing trip. They won't be back until this evening. Maria is not looking forward to that.”

“Why is that?” she asked, smiling at the face he was making.

“All those smelly fish to clean.”

Abby laughed. “Then we'll just have to lend a hand, won't we?”

The drive to Smythe's Roost, in the middle of the island, took less than thirty minutes, even during the busiest time of the day. Between noon and two in the afternoon, offices in Hamilton, the capitol, virtually emptied out as employees took their lunch breaks. Few seemed inclined to the American workaholic's practice of eating at one's desk.

The villa was as beautiful as she remembered it. Flowers bloomed in profusion in the gardens. The darling tree frogs whistled their love calls. Colorful birds flitted through the tops of soaring royal palms. Playful lizards darted behind thick foliage as the car passed. This was truly a tropical paradise.

In a second's flash, Abby remembered all the happy times she and Matt had shared, before she was
overcome by a surge of regret. In two days, she would leave Bermuda, having seen Matt for what must surely be the very last time. She prayed Paula was right and this would be a final, cleansing experience for her—proof that she was indeed over him.

Maria greeted them in a vivid orange dress at the back door. “Come in, come in, missus. We are so excited to have you back.”

“Thank you,” Abby murmured graciously, although her heart ached and her stomach was cramping with nerves.

Ramon led the way up the curve of stairs to the second floor, carrying her luggage. When he reached for the door to the master bedroom, Abby held out a hand to stop him. “No. The earl and I…surely he told you that I was to have a separate room.”

He smiled at her over his shoulder. “Lord Smythe said this one was for you. You would feel most comfortable here. He has taken another.”

“Oh,” she said feeling foolish for jumping to conclusions. Matt would no more want to put himself in such an awkward situation than she would. “Of course.”

The room was even more lovely than she remembered it. Pale gauze curtains drifted inward on the breeze off Hamilton harbor. The scent of frangipani and honeysuckle came through the open windows. White wood furnishings were offset by cool, pastel splashes of pink and mint green on the bedding and in the watercolor prints on the walls. It was a room that soothed and welcomed, and lowered the blood pressure just by stepping into it.

Abby took only enough time to unpack her few toiletries and hang the dress she would wear that
night. The remaining few items of casual clothing she had brought, she left in her travel bag. For such a short trip, it made no sense to transfer things into drawers.

After freshening up and applying a fresh coat of lipstick, she set out for Matt's study. As she'd expected, he had left instructions for her on his desk. She set to work organizing the lovely salon that opened onto a veranda at the back of the house. He wanted a champagne toast to start off the evening, along with simple canapés, imported caviar and a selection of tropical fruits and cheeses. She tried to choose items that complimented the French champagne, and wondered why he had chosen that beverage when he normally liked a variety of wines and cocktails to offer his guests. She decided this must indeed be a very special occasion for him, just as Paula had indicated.

By five o'clock she had finished and everything was ready for the guests. They had yet to appear, which was probably fortunate. She'd have time to change, then greet everyone as they arrived at the reception. She asked Maria for a guest list and the files Matt always kept on each client. The cook looked worried and avoided meeting Abby's questioning gaze.

“He left nothing like that,” she said quickly. “Lord Smythe will be there to introduce you to everyone.”

Abby shrugged. Whatever the man wanted…

She went off to change her clothes and do her hair. Champagne required a sophisticated French twist, she decided. With her hair pinned up, gold earrings in her lobes, and a beaded black cocktail dress she had
bought in New York while she had still been working for Matt, she felt on top of her game. Nothing would rattle her tonight, she told herself—there were emotional hurdles but she would clear them.

To Abby's surprise, as she approached the salon, she heard voices. She walked in to find several couples chatting, clustered around an older man who seemed the focus of everyone's attention. She immediately sensed that everyone knew one another. More than that. There was a distinct atmosphere of conspiracy, as if they were all acting with a single purpose. One she didn't understand. Abby shot a hasty look around the room and found Matt, talking with a man and woman of unmatched beauty. She could only have described them as regal. The woman's eyes shifted across the room toward Abby; her smile was dazzling. She whispered something close to Matt's ear.

He turned.

Abby's heart simply stopped.

The expression in his eyes was impossible to turn away from. She tried to force herself to take a step forward, but found she could not. Neither could she back away from him.

In the next moment, he was striding across the room toward her, his hand reaching out, his eyes alive with anticipation. “Everyone, this is Abigail Benton. Abby once worked for me, but became far too important to my life to remain a mere employee.”

She blushed and felt a rush of panic. “What are you
doing?
” she squealed under her breath. “I don't want strangers thinking—”

“They aren't strangers,” he interrupted.

“Clients then. Paula said they were the most important people you dealt with.”

“Important, but not part of my business,” he said softly. “This is my family, Abby. They have come to meet you.”

She swallowed, staring in horror around the room, finally beginning to recognize faces familiar from newspapers, TV broadcasts, gossip magazines. Her eyes flashed back to the couple he'd been talking to when she came in. “That's the king and queen of Elbia.” She was shaking her head even while making a statement she knew was true.

“Yes, my brother Thomas and his wife are codirectors for their Royal Highnesses' personal charities. King Jacob will meet with the American President next week. We talked him into stopping off in Bermuda for a rest from his busy schedule.”

“And…and the other two young men are your brothers?”

“Yes, that's Thomas and his wife, Diane, over by the canapés. Christopher is speaking with my father.”