She hadn’t toughened herself against how it would feel to have him do such things as casually hold her hand, kiss the side of her head and call her “exquisite”, a compliment, said in Cash’s rough, deep burr, that far exceeded any Abby had ever received.
But it was fake.
It wasn’t real.
It wasn’t what she had with Ben.
It wasn’t what her mind told her it was, which was that it was something far, far better than what she had with Ben.
That would be an impossibility.
For what she had with Ben was real and it was wonderful.
And what she had with Cash was make-believe even if it felt fantasy-land remarkable.
And she had to remember that.
This was a job, her job, but Cash also had to play his part.
And it was clear that in the meantime he fully intended to enjoy that for which he’d paid handsomely.
And it was also clear that he wouldn’t allow Abby to stand in the way of him getting that. He’d taught her that lesson earlier. He was quite content to live his part of the pretence as long as Abby lived hers.
If Abby stepped out of the role for which she was paid she would be punished.
And therefore she renewed her oath to keep her head screwed on straight and remember, always, always, always, this was a job. Just a job. And one day soon, he’d walk away and she’d get on with her life.
Firm (she told herself even though she didn’t believe herself) in her resolve she watched Cash place the bloodied towel in the bowl, he wrapped her arm in a clean, dry towel and when he was done his eyes came to her.
“The cuts aren’t that bad,” he said.
“I told you,” she returned.
“I still want them seen to,” he went on.
She rolled her eyes on a sighed, “Whatever,” and heard Cash’s chuckle.
Her eyes rolled back only to see his face close to hers. Nicola removed the ice and Abby made a mental note always to pay attention right before his lips touched hers.
He moved away a scant inch and remarked softly, “We’re going to have to talk about those heels you’re always wearing.”
Abby blinked, confused at his declaration, and asked, “Why?”
His face didn’t move away while he explained patiently, “Because, darling, they’ve become a health hazard.”
He couldn’t be serious.
Could he?
Abby tried honesty.
“It’s been so long, I don’t think my body can readjust to wearing flats. My spine might collapse and I’ll become crippled,” Abby told him, not joking in the slightest but, even so, Cash chuckled.
“We’ll take that chance, shall we?” he suggested but in a way that was more a command than a suggestion.
“Cash, I can’t wear flats. You’ll be, like, towering over me all the time if I wear flats,” she told him.
He moved back and his hands came to rest on either side of her as he said, “I like that idea. If I’m towering over you, it might have the additional bonus of intimidating you so you’ll do what I say instead of arguing all the time.”
“I don’t argue all the time,” Abby argued.
His brows went up, making his point nonverbally.
Abby glared.
The sound of approaching sirens filled the room.
“Saved by the paramedics,” Abby breathed dramatically and watched Cash’s devastatingly effective smile before his fingers came to curl around her neck to give her an affectionate squeeze then he moved away.
When he did, Abby’s eyes fell on Alistair and she sucked in breath.
Alistair was looking at Cash and the way he was doing it was exactly like the ghost had looked at Abby.
His face was filled with wicked, murderous, hatred.
A terrified shiver raced up her spine and it was worse than the fear she’d felt at seeing a ghost. This man, she knew, intended Cash harm and for some reason that was worse than the thought of harm coming to Abby.
Before she had a chance to process this new worry, the paramedics arrived.
They’d shown a light in her eyes, asked her silly questions about day, time, current location, bandaged her arm and declared her fit but they gave Cash warning signs and symptoms of concussion.
They left and Alistair was back to his good-humoured self (probably because he was walking Cash and Abby to his front door).
Cash settled her coat on her, handed her bag to her and Abby embraced Nicola, Fenella and even Honor while Cash donned his own.
She touched her cheek to Alistair’s as he asked, “You’ll be at the celebrations?”
Abby pulled away and nodded and Alistair’s eyes took on a happy but devious look that gave Abby a bad feeling.
“Good,” he muttered but Abby didn’t think it was good at all.
Abby shook off her thoughts of doom telling herself that her first encounter with a real, live (well, dead, but still existing) ghost was making her see things that weren’t there and looked at Nicola.
“You’ll tell Suzanne we said good-bye?” she requested politely.
“Of course,” Nicola assured but her embarrassment at her daughter’s rude behaviour was evident and Abby felt for her.
Abby smiled, leaned in and gave her arm a squeeze. Then Cash took her hand and they left.
As they walked Cash threaded his fingers through hers and lifted their hands to press them against the side of his chest.
Abby’s brain, making clear where it stood in Abby’s battle to guard her heart, registered that it was nice walking with Cash that way. So nice, Abby’s brain decided it would walk that way with Cash anywhere. To his car after a dinner party or through the very fires of hell, it didn’t care.
When they made it to his car and he’d beeped the locks and opened her door, Abby had control over her wayward thoughts and she turned to him.
“I’m sorry about this evening.”
Cash’s chin dipped down to look at her.
“Why are you sorry?” he asked.
“Well,” Abby went on, pointing out what she thought was obvious, “because I was snotty to their daughter then broke their mirror, fell and lost consciousness in their bathroom and ended their evening with a visit from an ambulance.”
His arm went around her, his other hand coming up to fist in her curls, pulling her head gently back further to look at him.
“Suzanne’s a bitch and always has been. You handled yourself well, considering. You were within your right to walk across the room and slap her.”Abby emitted a soft gasp at his brutally honest words but he continued, his voice dipping softer, throatier and far, far sexier.
“You handled yourself beautifully,” he said and Abby felt a rush of warmth she had to fight back as he went on. “And as for apologising for your accident, darling, I’m beginning to realise that, regardless of how charming it is, I’m going to have to teach you to stop doing it.”
“What do you mean?” Abby asked.
“You apologise a lot,” he replied.
“No I don’t,” she returned.
She saw his smile before he remarked, “You argue a lot too.”
Abby stayed silent and Cash brought her closer as his face got to within a breath of hers.
“Earlier tonight I did something to you that I deeply regret. Now you’re standing in my arms apologising for my family being rude and for slipping on water. Do you not see that’s absurd?” he asked.
She had to admit, he made sense.
She wasn’t going to tell him that.
And she wasn’t going to give into the deeper warmth that invaded the region of her heart at him admitting to “deeply” regretting his earlier behaviour.
Instead, she told him, “I’m tired, Cash, can we just go home?”
He hesitated and she got the vague feeling he was disappointed before his arms got tighter and he lifted up to kiss her forehead.