* * *
Abby had been here for two days already, there was only one left and Leo still hadn’t found the opportunity to apologise.
He’d barely even spoken to her. He hadn’t had the chance. He’d never much thought about the work that went into an event such as this, yet clearly there was one hell of a lot of it.
While he watched from the sidelines, sometimes from the window of his study where he pretended to be working, sometimes offering to lend a hand, he discovered that Abby, in addition to being gorgeous, sexy and very, very capable, was a dynamo.
She was on the go non-stop from the moment she arrived to the moment she left, her pace dizzying and her energy bottomless, and at the mere thought of the complexity of her job his head swam.
Lunch was the only time she downed tools, and even that was only for half an hour max. Hardly time for a chat—and he’d tried—let alone an apology. And because she barely paused for breath, he hadn’t been able to get her on her own.
But that, he hoped, was about to change.
Impressive though Abby undoubtedly was—and he certainly admired her efficiency, the way she had with people and her frankly extraordinary talent for putting out fires—she was looking exhausted. She arrived at the crack of dawn and left well after dark, and the daily commute to and from London surely couldn’t help.
So he’d come up with a plan, this time a truly infallible one.
‘Need a hand,’ he asked, striding into the kitchen where she was leaning against the work surface and frowning down at the floor as the tea urn beside her hissed away.
Abby jumped, her gaze snapped up and for some reason she went bright red. ‘What? Oh? No, thanks. It’s just about done.’
‘In that case, would you like me to let everyone know tea’s ready?’
‘Thanks.’ Her eyes dipped for a second and then shot back up. ‘Is the marquee up?’ she asked briskly.
‘All done.’
‘Then would you mind putting your shirt back on?’
Ah, he thought, smiling inwardly. Not totally unaffected by him, then. ‘Does my shirtlessness bother you?’
‘Not in the slightest,’ she said without batting an eyelid. ‘You might catch a chill and I don’t think the insurance would cover it. Besides, I have standards to maintain. Order. You know?’
‘I do.’
He moved a cup so that out of the fifty or so that sat on the counter the other side of the urn it was the only one with the handle pointing up. She moved it back. And shot him a look.
‘I’ll put my shirt back on.’
‘Thank you.’
‘One thing before I round up the troops, though,’ he said, deliberately moving towards her.
She took a sidestep away, sliding along the counter, and eyed him warily. ‘What?’
‘Would you like to stay here tonight?’
Startled, she stared at him, her jaw dropping for a second before she snapped it back up. ‘What?’
‘Would you like to stay the night?’
She stiffened. Frowned. ‘I thought we’d been through this, Leo.’
‘I didn’t mean with me, although that would be nice.’
‘Then what did you mean?’
‘You look shattered.’