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"Fine. Just fine. Now read me that note."
"I'll get it right now." There was a long, long pause before Jan came back on the
line. "Okay, here it is. Something about calling up Newman . . ."
"But that was about a case we finished weeks ago," Abby protested. "Are you sure
that's the right note?"
"I thought it was . . . yes, that's the only one in the file. Maybe it was misfiled," Jan
stammered.
Abby sighed. It wasn't like Jan to get rattled. "As for my stuff in the desk, just
put it in a box and keep it by you. There's bound to be a day when McCallum is out
of town and that's when I'll come by to get it."
"I'll do that. You take care of yourself, hear?"
"I will. You, too, my friend. Bye, Jan."
She hung up and stared at the receiver. Tears began to roll down her cheeks. That
was that. The last link severed. Now, all she had to do was learn to live without
Greyson McCallum.
Thirty minutes later, she was just finishing the petition when she heard the office
door open. She whirled around to see who it was, and her heart seemed to levitate
and hang in midair.
"Hello, Abby," McCallum said quietly from the doorway.
CHAPTER TEN
She stared at him with tear-filled eyes, and hated the weak part of her that
wanted to get up and run to him. But pride and hurt kept her seated.
"How did you find me?" she asked shakily.
He shrugged. "I looked up the address in the telephone directory . . ."
"Jan told you the name of the law firm," she finished for him.
He scowled. "Thank God she did. Do you know I've been all the way to Charleston
looking for you? I followed Dalton back there, expecting that I'd find you with him.
When he hadn't seen you, I had to assume the worst." He started toward her, his
whole stance menacing. The dark brown suit he was wearing made his silver eyes
seem even lighter as they glittered down at her. "I called hospitals and funeral
homes and the morgue. I called the ambulance service and the police. I gave up at
two in the morning and went to bed, and even then I couldn't sleep. When Jan came
in this morning and told me you'd called and that you were all right, I damned near
got down on my knees to thank God that you weren't lying somewhere dead."
She straightened up from the chair, standing behind it for support. "You don't have
to worry, I'm fine. I've got a new job, a new apartment a new start. I'll be fine."
"No, you won't," he said. He stopped just in front of her, and for once he looked
every year of his age. He was absolutely haggard, drawn. "I hurt you. I seem to have
done quite a lot of that over the past few days. I came here to ask you if you could
forgive me.
Her green eyes widened on his face. She'd never once heard McCallum apologize,
not to anyone. It was something he didn't do. But he was apologizing to her, with a
humility she'd never expected from him.
She dropped her eyes to the coffee on her desk. "That . . . that part of my life is
over," she told him gently. "I won't hold a grudge. You can't help what you feel,
anymore than I can."
"Do you hate me, Abby?" he asked roughly.
She shook her head. "I . . . it's just that I'm so ashamed," she whispered. Her voice
broke on the word and she half turned away.
He moved with uncanny speed for a man his size, whirling her around to catch her
hard and close in his big arms.
"Ashamed of what?" he ground out. His face was unnervingly close, his pulse as
erratic as hers. "Of offering yourself to me that night? I wanted you. Oh, God, I
wanted you! But I thought Dalton had turned away from you, and you were looking
for a substitute. You were half stoned . . ."
"You said you didn't want me." The words came out on broken sobs, and tears
streamed down her cheeks.
He held her closer, tilting her mouth up to meet his. "How could I?" he whispered as
his lips slowly, softly, parted her trembling lips. "When all I want in the world, in
life, is you?"
His mouth opened against hers, pressing her lips along with it, his tongue tracing
first the upper lip, then the lower before it shot into her mouth and took absolute
possession. He ground her body into his, moving it silkily in a slow, maddening
rhythm that very quickly began to have an unmistakable effect on him.
"Come back to the apartment with me, Abby," he said in a rough whisper over her
lips. "I want to show you exactly what I feel for you."
"But . . . but I'm working . . ." she protested weakly.
"Put the phones on hold and lock the door. We'll call him later," he said, his eyes
eating her.
She was too weak-kneed to argue. She jotted a note telling Pettigrew she'd had an
emergency, locked the door, and followed McCallum without another word of
protest.
He'd barely closed the apartment door and locked it after a brief, silent ride, when
he drew Abby's body against his and began to kiss her long, slow, deep kisses that
very quickly made her moan.
"I missed you," he whispered huskily. His hands unzipped her dress and slid it down
her body; her slip followed. "I never knew a man could miss a woman so much." He
unhooked her bra and drew it sensuously down her arms. His eyes worshipped her
high, bare breasts in the aching silence that followed, before he bent and took each
taut nipple in his mouth, tantalizing, caressing, until her fingers caught the back of
his head and her body arched to give him better access.
"Undress me," he whispered.
Her hands slipped off his jacket and worked the buttons of his shirt with feverish [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]