Penmort Castle (Page 11)

Penmort Castle (Ghosts and Reincarnation #1)(11)
Author: Kristen Ashley

She wasn’t just good, Cash thought with growing disgust, she was superb.

And this made Cash even angrier.

She fastened the cape at her throat and put on her gloves while he donned his overcoat then gripped her elbow, leading her out of the restaurant with all eyes on them.

He could visualise them together. Abby was blonde, tall and elegant but tonight in that alluring dress that hinted at the body beneath it rather than brazenly displaying it as her clothing did yesterday, she showed she had a unique, individual style. Cash was dark and much taller but not overpowering her with his height as he did with most women, and men for that matter.

He knew they made an exceptional-looking couple. It was part of the package he’d paid for.

They were out into the night and he was not looking forward to the drive to take her home.

He would want to come in and make two efforts. The first would be getting her to open up to him. The second would be getting her to sleep with him.

Neither, Cash knew at this juncture, would succeed.

And Cash was used to success, failure was not an option. But he knew that would be what he’d face if he pressed her.

And he didn’t like this either.

They’d only taken two steps on the pavement when Abby, as if oblivious to the now descending photographers, curled into him. She put her hand to his stomach and he stopped at her bold touch, his head tilting down toward her.

She was smiling at him.

Not one of her composed, controlled smiles. This one was radiant and lighting up the night, as if she was happy, carefree and deeply in love.

At the sight something in his gut clenched and it was a feeling he’d never felt before in his entire life.

The feeling wasn’t painful, instead it was supremely pleasant.

Unusually caught off guard by her smile and his response to it, he didn’t react as she came up to her toes, leaning into him, her br**sts pressing against his arm as she tipped her head back, her eyes slightly closed, her lips lightly parted, her entire face an invitation.

Without willing himself to do it and completely unable to stop himself if he’d tried (which he didn’t), his head bent and as she intended, doing the job he’d paid her to do to put on a show to the photographers, his mouth met hers.

The minute their lips touched hers relaxed under his, her scent filled his nostrils in an overwhelmingly intoxicating way and her body melted into his, bestowing on him a goodly amount of her weight as if she’d lost the ability to stand on her own two feet.

He accepted her obvious if somewhat surprising invitation and deepened the kiss, his hand moving from her elbow in order to wrap his arm tightly around her waist, hauling her closer to him.

Her body went rigid as his tongue touched hers.

She tasted, he realised with acute clarity, as complex and exquisite as everything else that was Abby and he felt his body begin to heat in response.

His head came up at her reaction and he belatedly saw the camera flashes around them.

Her guard was down and Cash could easily read the strange mix of wonder and alarm on her face.

Instinctively he recognised that something had changed. She might have begun this show for the photographers but it didn’t end that way.

He attributed this to the brief but remarkably affecting kiss and the cameras, which she had to know where there.

The former of the two reactions he saw on her face served to please him, dissipate his anger and bring him to the swift decision that he would not wait to have her. Instead, he’d coax her to break her own rule and sleep with him before they reached the castle.

The latter reaction was understandable, he knew the cameras could be disconcerting if you weren’t used to them.

Cash gave a glare to the photographers even though it was he who called them there in the first place. They’d managed to interrupt something that had turned into a moment Cash most definitely did not wish to be interrupted.

One called out a question that Cash didn’t bother to hear. When he started leading Abby to the car, his arm firmly around her waist rather than at her elbow, he unconsciously moved his body to shield her from the cameras. It was a natural instinct at complete odds to the whole point of this exercise.

And he didn’t give a good God damn.

For comfort’s sake, her arm stole around his waist though her hand never left his stomach. When he looked down at her again she was peering around his body at the calling photographers.

Cash saw that she had not managed to compose her expression. Her customary aloofness had disappeared, the alarm was still there (the wonder, unfortunately, gone), and Cash again found himself thinking she looked rather adorable.

“It’ll be all right,” he murmured his assurance.

Her eyes shifted to him and, still unguarded, he read immediately that she most definitely didn’t believe him.

And it was right there for him to see, there was no thinking about it.

Abigail Butler, the woman who very much wanted him to believe she was a remote, impersonal, accomplished call girl was instead downright adorable.

Taking in her endearingly disgruntled look, Cash couldn’t, if under torture, have stopped himself from throwing his head back to laugh.

* * * * *

And that was one of the pictures printed the next day, along with one of the kiss.

Abby with one hand on Cash’s stomach, the other arm around him, her upper body curled into his side but she was walking forward even as her head was tilted back. She was regarding Cash with what looked like loving irritation. Cash’s arm was around her waist, his head was tipped back, his attractive face full of laughter.

* * * * *

Fifty miles away, in a cold, sturdy, ancient castle situated on a steep cliff, its parapets facing the waters of the Bristol Channel, Alistair Beaumaris sat amongst the used china and silver of the breakfast table, looked at the picture and it put him in a very bad mood.

Alistair was brother to the true heir of Penmort, Anthony, who had, to Alistair’s way of thinking, foolishly sired an illegitimate son to a Scottish beauty but never wed her. Nevertheless, upon his brother’s death, Anthony bestowed the Beaumaris fortune on her as well as the castle.

After his brother committed this heinous act, Alistair had spent thousands of pounds in the attempt to convince the courts it was impossible to bequeath “outside the family” as well as convincing them the fortune went with the castle.

And, fortunately, he’d succeeded in these endeavours.

Now, unfortunately, Alistair Beaumaris needed Conner Ewan “Cash” Fraser. He needed him to marry one of his stepdaughters.

Not that he liked Cash Fraser. Indeed, he hated the man. In fact, his preference would be to see him just as dead as his father and if he didn’t need him he would make his preference a reality, just as Alistair had done with Cash’s father.