Kieran ignored this out-and-out lie and asked, “Is it Abby?”
She put a hand to her hip. “And why would you think it was Abby?”
“Partly because you got a phone call at midnight from her communicating Lord Fraser’s demands that you appear in his offices today. And partly because it’s always Abby.”
Jenny threw the sponge in the sink and snapped, “It’s not always Abby.”
At her answer, Kieran felt the usual gut clench when the topic came up and he asked gently, “Is it our appointment at the fertility clinic on Monday?”
He watched her face pale but she said, “No.”
He put his coffee cup down and got close, sliding his hands around her waist. His face chased hers as her eyes moved anywhere but to him until she finally gave in on a sigh and looked at him.
“Whatever happens, happens, pumpkin,” Kieran murmured. “I’m happy to adopt and I’m happy for it just to be the two of us for the rest of our lives. You know that.”
Jenny sighed again. “I know it.”
He touched his forehead to hers. “Don’t let it worry you.”
Her eyes slid away and she whispered, “You always talked about wanting a son to go out and –”
His mouth hit hers, effectively silencing her, a trick he’d learned years ago and one he utilised more than occasionally.
When he lifted his head, he said, “I want you. All the rest is just icing. You know that too.”
Jenny’s lips tipped up at the ends and she replied quietly, “I know it.”
“Stop worrying,” Kieran demanded.
“Okay,” Jenny lied.
Kieran grinned then muttered, “Liar.”
Before the glittering spark in her eye could be translated verbally, he kissed her, far deeper this time.
Then he went to work.
Kieran was barely out the door when Jenny’s mobile rang.
She was glad of it. Anything to keep her mind off the appointment Monday, even if it had to do with Abby, her new boyfriend (who Jenny didn’t know whether to love or hate) and the ghost that wanted Abby dead.
Regardless of what Kieran said, Jenny wanted a baby and she wanted to give him a son. She wouldn’t plunge into a suicidal depression if she couldn’t, but she would still be devastated. They’d been trying to get pregnant for ages (and working hard at it), so she didn’t think the news would be good.
She was not looking forward to Monday in any way.
So she resolutely set these thoughts aside and grabbed her mobile.
The display said, “Cassandra Calling”.
Jenny flipped it open and put it to her ear.
“Hey girl,” she said by way of greeting, as usual hiding her dark thoughts of moments before.
“Hey mate,” Cassandra replied. “Listen, can you talk?”
Jenny thought Cassandra had called for a gossip session and asked, “Is this about our summons to Cash’s offices today?”
“No,” Cassandra answered. “Though, gotta admit, I was surprised. And pleased. It’ll help, him being in the know.” She hesitated and went on with a smile in her voice. “And I wouldn’t mind seeing where he works, see if it’s like in the movie.”
“I’m noticing not a lot about Cash is like that movie,” Jenny replied and heard Cassandra chuckle.
“Yeah, that actor, whatever-his-name-is, was fit, but I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who can suck the entire life force out of the room like Cash can. He’s a powerhouse. I can see why they wanted to make a movie about him but there’s no way you could capture something like that on film,” Cassandra noted.
Jenny didn’t want to talk about what a powerhouse Cash was because she thought it sucked that practically everything about him seemed wonderful but he was, if their secret conversation was anything to go by, not.
Jenny changed the subject. “Why’d you call?”
Cassandra took a moment before answering, “Are you sitting down?”
Jenny felt her heart lurch and lied, “Yes.”
“Okay, mate, take a breath,” Cassandra advised and Jenny did as she was told then heard Cassandra say, “My friends in Virginia, they made contact.”
Jenny knew what she was saying. In desperation, she, Mrs. Truman and Cassandra had come up with the idea days ago.
Jenny stumbled to a chair at the kitchen table and sat.
“Ben?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Cassandra answered.
Jenny closed her eyes and felt tears prickling the backs of them at the very thought of what this might mean when she asked, “He didn’t go to, um… the other plane?”
“He did. They used the entire coven to pull him out,” Cassandra told her.
Jenny’s eyes opened but only to blink in shocked surprise. “You can do that?”
“In life and death circumstances and if the coven is powerful, yes.”
“My God,” Jenny breathed.
Cassandra went on. “They’re un-tethering him. He’ll be at the castle Saturday night.”
“My God,” Jenny repeated.
“Are you okay?” Cassandra asked.
“No,” Jenny told her in all honesty. “You’re telling me the ghost of my good friend is going to fight the ghost who wants to kill my best friend. A ghost who happens to be under the mistaken impression that Cash Fraser is in love with my good friend ghost’s wife.” Jenny wasn’t making much sense but didn’t care.
Ben was going to be at the castle.
With Abby.
And Cash!
“Widow,” Cassandra said softly, taking Jenny out of her thoughts.
“What?” Jenny asked.
“Widow. Abby’s his widow, no longer his wife,” Cassandra replied.
“She’ll always be Ben’s wife,” Jenny retorted.
“She stopped being his wife a long time ago, Jenny,” Cassandra returned gently.
Jenny shook her head sharply, not about to fight this point, not wanting even to think about this point, so she said, “Whatever. Ben has got to know, your coven friends have got to tell him that Abby can’t see him. She’ll freak.”
“He’ll do what he has to do,” Cassandra said.
“Cassandra, you don’t know how it is. Abby can’t see him, she’ll freak,” Jenny repeated.
“He’ll do what he has to do or she’ll die,” Cassandra noted firmly.
Jenny hated to admit it, but she had a point.
Jenny thought it was time to move on to the next subject. “Are we carpooling to Cash’s offices?”
“I’ll drive,” Cassandra offered.
“All right then, see you soon,” Jenny said and they rang off.
Jenny flipped her phone shut and put it on the table.
“Well, one thing’s certain,” she told her phone. “I’m not worried about the fertility clinic anymore.”
Jenny’s phone had no response.
Abby walked into Cash’s offices and saw him immediately.
He was behind a glass wall in a conference room with at least a dozen other people. He was sitting at the head of the table wearing one of his impeccably tailored suits, this one black with a shirt of deep grey and a fantastic black tie with a grey and red pattern on it. He had a heavy, expensive-looking black pen with gold accents in his fingers. He was upending it, the pen sliding through his fingers, only for him to catch it at the tip and upend it again.
Someone was standing at the foot of the table speaking to the group and there were charts projected on the wall behind him. Cash’s attention was focused on the speaker but Abby had only taken a few steps into the reception area when Cash’s head turned and his black eyes hit her.
She’d been in a clothing crisis all morning not knowing what to wear to this meeting, especially since it was at Cash’s office.