But then again, as she’d told him, she’d never believed in not saying what she thought and what she felt when the need arose, and the need had definitely arisen then because her nerves had been shredded.
So no, she’d done the right thing, she thought, throwing back the duvet and climbing into bed.
It had been much better to acknowledge that there was something between them because once she’d done that she’d been able to deal with it. And she had. Successfully. It had been a close-run thing, and if Leo had pushed even a little bit further she might have relented, but her sense of self-preservation was still intact because somehow—thankfully—she’d convinced him to stop.
Now all that remained was for her to do the same about the sweet, aching tension in her muscles and the hot throbbing between her legs and everything would be back under control.
* * *
Given how badly he’d been sleeping and how much effort he’d expended—fruitlessly—on wondering how he could wear away Abby’s obstinate resistance without drawing attention to what he was doing, the last thing Leo felt like was meeting up with his brother to be introduced to his new date.
For one thing, ever since their parents’ anniversary party had come into being things had been a bit tense between them. Shortly after Leo had informed his brother of the fact that he’d be spending much of his time in Madrid, they’d met up for a beer and within five minutes of sitting down Jake had begun interrogating him with a tenacity that Leo normally admired but then had had him gritting his teeth.
Despite Leo’s lack of input and his icy glares Jake hadn’t let up, prodding, dropping Abby’s name into the conversation at every possible opportunity and smiling knowingly, until Leo had slammed his glass down on the table, shot him a look that could have frozen hell and told him to shut up. Which seemed to have done the trick because Jake had backed off and stayed backed off ever since.
For another, spending a couple of hours watching the latest in a long line of women moon over his brother and knowing that the relationship would last only marginally longer than his did, wasn’t his idea of fun.
He wasn’t envious, as Jake was so fond of suggesting. He didn’t do envy, and, besides, what was there to be envious of? He just didn’t particularly enjoy being a gooseberry, and he didn’t particularly enjoy having to bite his tongue so that he didn’t tell whoever was wrapped round his brother at the time not to bother, that was all.
But then he’d considered the alternative, which was trying not to fantasise about Abby and what he was going to do with her the minute the party was over, a battle he inevitably ended up losing, and he’d settled for the option that was marginally less unappealing.
And that was how he’d come to be at The Cross and Sceptre halfway through his second pint and trying to stifle a yawn.
It wasn’t that Caroline Adams wasn’t charming. She was. She was attractive, amusing and had dozens of entertaining stories about the things that had happened on the set of St Jude’s. He could see why Jake was, however temporarily, captivated. But he was knackered and keen to get home to work on his strategy for dealing with Abby.
Which was why he was only paying the barest attention to what Caroline was saying, until she happened to mention that they were a month or so away from filming the thousandth episode of the show that Abby loved so much and suddenly he was on full alert.
Light bulbs were flashing in his head left, right and centre, and the strategy that had proved so frustratingly elusive recently became blindingly clear.
Adrenalin pumping, he put his glass on the table with such force that both Jake and Caroline jumped. ‘Well, now, that sounds like something to celebrate,’ he said, obviously sounding more enthused than he had all evening if the way they were staring at him in surprise was anything to go by.
‘It does, doesn’t it?’ said Caroline with a bright smile.
‘Need an event planner?’
‘Do you know one?’
Ignoring his brother’s smug smile, Leo kept his gaze pinned to the woman who might well turn Abby to putty in his hands, and said, ‘As it just so happens, I do.’
* * *
As Abby had hoped, everything was totally back under control, until about a week after that dinner, when Leo rang to say that he’d heard about some work she might be interested in and if she could spare a day midweek to follow it up with him it would be worth her while.
She couldn’t really spare a day midweek but neither could she refuse the possibility of work—the memory of those four months of absolutely nothing in the diary had never completely faded—so on Thursday morning, in response to the peel of the doorbell Abby found herself heading down the stairs with a spring in her step and a buzz of excitement that had nothing to do with seeing Leo again and everything to do with the prospect of a job.
The tiny lurch that her heart gave when she opened the door and saw him standing on the step, looking all tall, dark and serious, was as a result of nearly tripping up on a wrinkle in the hall carpet. The quick tightening of her stomach had to be hunger because for the first time in years she hadn’t quite got round to breakfast. The sudden dryness of her mouth was, naturally, down to too much coffee and not enough water.
‘Good morning,’ said Leo, giving her a barely there smile.
‘Is it? For me it’s a bit too early to tell.’
The smile deepened into a grin as he backed off the step and waited for her to lock her front door before walking beside her to the car.
‘Ready to go?’ he asked, holding open the passenger door for her.
‘Not really,’ said Abby, because he’d been unnervingly vague about the details, ‘but I intend to remedy that as soon as we’re on our way.’
Taking great care not to brush against him, she slid into the car and wondered how the hell she was going to handle who knew how long a journey with him in such close proximity. All that presence, that masculinity filling what was really a very small, very confined space.