Her grin turned playful as she exclaimed, “Of course! I’m half-American, you know.”
“That’s why I’m asking,” he retorted.
She shook her head, her soft hair sliding on his hand, her face telling him she wasn’t going to stoop to a response.
Cash went on. “Call me when you’re heading back, I’ll meet you at the gate.”
She nodded, got up on her toes, hand to his stomach and touched her mouth to his.
He felt her touch, the warmth of her body and the excitement in her eyes all with a heady intensity that was not unusual with Abby, however it was, in that moment, significantly more profound.
When her mouth moved away, her eyes caught his and her soft, tender look told him she’d felt the same.
Any vestiges of Cash’s earlier dark mood melted away.
With effort (for he vastly preferred spending the morning in other pursuits with Abby, say, sexually christening another room in the castle), he dropped his hand.
She got in, he slammed the door and returned her wave. He nodded to Fenella, left the garage and headed up the steep hill to the gate.
As he climbed, he heard his car start and he turned to watch her roar out of the garage, not like a granny driver, but instead like an Indy car driver.
Then he stood watching as the car turned on a screech of tires into the long, steep, winding lane that led through the wood to the main road that skirted the town.
And he continued to watch, body now frozen, as she raced down the lane, nearly missing the hairpin turn at the bottom, two tires in the turf at the side of the lane.
And he still watched from his high vantage point as she negotiated the lane, brake lights blazing the entire way. Even so, it seemed she was picking up speed as the high performance sports car hurtled down the hill and she was, clearly, just keeping it on the road.
A feeling of foreboding swept over him and before his mind made the conscious decision to do so, he started running. He didn’t keep to the lane but took the more direct path, sprinting through the trees on the hill at the side of the castle, his eyes on the car as he went.
It, with Abby in it, was accelerating and visibly out-of-control.
He dodged trees as he ran, watching as she jumped the curb and drove through the turf, brake lights glowing but not slowing, straight toward the high, thick, stone wall that surrounded Penmort estate.
He made it to the bottom of the hill just as the car slammed into the wall with an ugly, loud crash of crunching, twisting metal.
At the sight and sound of Abby in his car slamming into a wall, Cash didn’t slow even as his mind erased and a blind panic filled him.
He was tearing across the field toward the smoking car when his blank mind saturated. Memories collided in his brain, overlapping each other, one crowding the other out as Cash ran.
Abby, tall, exquisite, arresting, wearing winter white standing in the door at the pub.
Abby telling him he looked good in glasses.
Abby’s eyes on him, soft and reverential, after she woke from her nap.
The fresh, sweet taste of Abby when he kissed her after she’d sipped at her bizarre cocktail.
In bed, Abby and her cat, snuggling into him and falling asleep while he worked.
Abby excitedly babbling about how much she loved cashmere.
Abby, looking classic and elegant, standing in his arms in his office.
The strange, poignant sleeping positions Abby would assume, always close, always in the protective curve of his arm.
He reached the car and saw the demolished bonnet folded into itself and the airbags inflated before both seats of the car.
Cash didn’t give a thought to his car, only to one of its occupants.
He yanked open the driver’s door to see Abby was shoved back behind the airbag. Her head turned to him, eyes wide but blinking, face pale.
She was breathing, moving, there was no blood in sight, no bones protruding, and relief ripped through him.
She whispered, “Fenella.”
Cash pushed his arm between Abby and the airbag. “You first, love. Then I’ll take care of Fenella.”
He found the release on the seatbelt as she murmured, “It was stuck in go.”
Cash put one arm under her knees, the other behind her back and cautiously slid her out of her seat, doing a quick body scan as he did so.
What he didn’t do was reply.
“Cash,” she called softly as he straightened, Abby cradled in his arms, and started striding away from the wreckage. His eyes went to hers and she went on, “The car was stuck in go.”
“Quiet, darling,” Cash muttered.
“I couldn’t get it to stop,” she whispered.
He knew that.
He knew it.
And he knew why.
But he couldn’t think of that now.
He had to focus on Abby. If he didn’t focus on Abby, he would do something he would regret. Something that would take him away from her for he’d be in prison. Prison would mean that he would really lose Abby instead of just experiencing the gut-twisting, soul-destroying thought of losing her while watching her slam into a wall in his car.
“Quiet, Abby,” he repeated gently, “we’ll talk later.” He stopped close to a tree and set her on her feet but didn’t release his hold on her. “Can you stand?”
She tipped her head to look at him and pulled her hair away from her face with a visibly trembling hand but she nodded.
Cash left her and jogged back to the car. Fenella was carefully alighting and he put an arm about her waist. She looked up at him, speechless for once, wearing the same wide-eyed, pale expression as Abby. He supported her weight and walked her back to Abby.
When they arrived at Abby’s side, Fenella spoke. “What just happened?”
Abby’s eyes went to Cash and she replied, “I don’t know.”
But by the look on her face, he knew that she did.
At that moment Suzanne, in her sporty Mercedes two-seater, turned from the main road into the lane. Her eyes were on the wrecked car and she slowed to a halt.
“Wait here,” Cash ordered and jogged to Suzanne.
She was out of the car before he arrived.
“My God, Cash, what happened?” she breathed, eyes on the wreckage then they turned to him and did a sweep of his body. “Are you okay?”
Cash didn’t answer, instead he asked, “Do you have your mobile?”
She was staring at him and her eyes moved to Abby and Fenella.
“Suzanne,” Cash’s voice was low with impatience, “mobile.”
Her head gave a jerk and she looked back at Cash, mumbling, “Of course.”
She leaned into the car, got her bag and pulled out her mobile, handing it to Cash.
Cash was pressing numbers when he demanded, “Go back to the house, get Honor’s Rover, come back and pick up Abby and Fenella.”
He finished dialling, pressed go and put the mobile to his ear as she started, “But –”
“Do it!” Cash snapped and he heard his call to the police connect as Suzanne hustled back into her car and took off up the lane.
Cash walked back to Abby and Fenella as he reported the wreck. The minute he arrived at Abby’s side he slid his arm around her shoulders and curled her front-to-front. Both her arms wrapped around his waist and she pressed her cheek to his chest as he kept talking.
After he made his report, he flipped Suzanne’s phone closed and looked down at Abby. “The police are coming. Suzanne is getting Honor’s car so she can take you back to the castle.”
Abby nodded mutely and Cash went on.
“Glue yourself to Nicola’s side,” he ordered.
She pressed deeper into him and nodded again.
Cash continued. “I’ll bring the police to you.” His eyes turned to Fenella. “Nicola needs to do something, you get Abby off the castle grounds immediately.”