Bedding The Billionaire(28)
Author: Kendra Little

Until now.

And when those feelings were directed solely at a man like Damien, then it was a very bad thing. He was the sort of man who would run a mile as soon as his libido calmed down or pointed itself in another direction, especially if he knew how she really felt.

Abbey sighed deeply and picked up her handbag which had fallen onto the floor when Damien grabbed her.

"I’m going home," she announced. "Sorry about your desk."

"Abbey Girl, you can mess up my desk anytime. Just don’t fall in love with the next guy you have sex on it with, okay?" She reached up and tucked a hair behind Abbey’s ear.

"There won’t be a next time," said Abbey. "I’m giving up on men. I can’t pick a decent one if my life depended on it."

Lucy clicked her tongue. "Don’t give up. Just don’t fall in love with them. I told you, pick a man whose personality totally turns you off." Her mouth twitched into a half-smile. "The gorilla’s still available."

Abbey made a face. "I’m going before you set me up with every man in your little black book."

"That’d keep you going for a few years at least."

Abbey hugged her friend and left the office. She hopped into her car and headed down Bridge Road, turning right at Church Street.

All the way home, she thought about how she should have handled Damien Vane. She should’ve ignored him, pushed him away before he’d even kissed her. Maybe if Lucy hadn’t left… No, she couldn’t blame this on Lucy. Getting in over her head with Damien was her own stupid fault. She couldn’t blame anyone else for this mess. Except maybe Damien.

By the time she pulled into a parking space in front of her apartment, Abbey was angry. Angry at herself for letting Damien have this affect on her, and angry at him for, well, being so damned sexy and such a womanizer at the same time.

She opened her front door and threw her bag on the table beside the phone. The answering machine’s red light flashed. She opened her fridge and poured herself a glass of white wine, then padded across the floorboards and pressed the button on the machine. There was a message from Tarken asking her to call him back. She deleted it.

She settled herself on the couch and switched on the TV. There was nothing on so she switched it off again. She reached for a book on her coffee table and flipped it open to the bookmarked page. Ten minutes later she replaced the bookmark on the same page.

She sighed and wondered if she was doomed to think about Damien all night. It might not be so bad if she kept her thoughts focussed on the sex and not the man himself. That couldn’t do any harm.

She closed her eyes and relaxed back into the couch. The air in the apartment was warm. Too warm. Abbey undid the buttons on her shirt and discarded it. Better, but she was still hot. She undid her bra and let it slide off her br**sts and fall into her lap. Much better.

Her hand skimmed her right breast as she lifted the wine glass to her lips. Her skin was soft to touch, and hot. Damien had touched her breast like that. No, not quite like that. His touch had more urgency and hunger in it. She placed the wine glass on the coffee table then cupped her breast, the way Damien did, and rubbed gently. The nipple quickly puckered and sent a wave of tingles down to her abdomen.

She reached across to do the same with the other nipple when the phone rang. She thought about letting it go to the answering machine, but it might be Lucy checking up on her. She’d worry if Abbey didn’t answer.

She picked up.

"Hello."

"It’s Tarken."

Silence as Abbey contemplated hanging up. Instead, she stifled a groan and quickly threw on the discarded shirt and clasped it closed across her br**sts. She knew he couldn’t see her but the desire to cover herself was a natural instinct these days at the sound of Tarken’s voice.

"What do you want?"

"Now, that’s no way to talk to your boyfriend."

"Ex, Tarken. We’re through, remember?"

"Don’t be so hasty, I’ve got something I want to say to you."

"Well, hurry up and say it. I’m busy."

There was a pause as Tarken seemed to consider this information. Maybe her harsh answers were finally getting through to him and he was about to give up.

"There’s a cocktail party on tomorrow night and I thought you might like to accompany me."

Abbey rolled her eyes. Giving up wasn’t Tarken’s style, even when he was thoroughly beaten. It was embarrassing before, now it was just annoying. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because it’s for this software seminar that’s been going on at the Crown Complex."

Her heart stopped. Software seminar…

"Did you go to it?" she asked.

"Yes. Mr. Goldstein decided on Monday that we needed a new system. He suggested Donaldson go. Normally I’d send you along with him, but…"

"What, Melinda’s not good enough?" She couldn’t help getting one sarcastic comment in.

"Let’s just say that Melinda’s not you."

At least he’d recognized that. She closed her eyes. She tried not to think about Tarken meeting Damien again at the seminar. She didn’t want to know the consequences of such a meeting. "So why would I want to go to this party?"

"You might meet some industry contacts. Since you’re looking for a job, I thought it could prove useful for you."

Abbey’s spine tingled. Tarken was up to something and she didn’t like it. If Melinda was a hopeless P.A. then he probably wanted to woo Abbey back into the role. So why take her somewhere with the intention of making new contacts and getting a new job?

It didn’t add up.

What did make sense was that Tarken had met Damien at the seminar. And after the reception he received at the restaurant earlier in the week, Tarken was probably cooking up something in revenge.

This might be worth seeing. And what did she have to lose anyway? Neither man was her boyfriend so there was no danger of a confrontation leading to the end of a relationship. There was nothing to end.

"Fine, I’ll go."

"Pick you up at six."

She hung up. It could be a disaster. In fact, it probably would be a disaster, but she felt compelled to go. If for no other reason than to flirt with Tarken in Damien’s face. Childish, she knew, but it might help exorcise her demons.

And those demons definitely needed exorcising. Abbey needed closure.

***

Nick sat on the couch in the dark in his hotel suite. The curtain was open and the street lights offered a faint glow through the window. It was probably still hot out there but it was cool inside the room. Cool enough to sooth his skin but not cool enough to sooth his temper.

He was angry. At Abbey for lying, but mostly at himself for letting her get to him the way she had. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Casual sex with strangers in strange cities wasn’t supposed to mean anything.