Page 35 of Bound by Their Christmas Baby

Once it was down, Hughie rigged a rope around the tree’s base and then began to drag it through the soft snow.

‘Won’t that break the branches?’ she asked. ‘It’d be a shame to get it back to the house and find it’s only half-perfect.’

‘You’d just have to display it facing outwards,’ he teased. ‘Nah, it’s soft needles, see.’ He stopped walking so she could feel them. He was right; they were luxuriant beneath her touch. ‘They’ll be fine.’

They walked towards the house and Abby was so relieved to simply be having a normal conversation with someone that all of her attention was focused on Hughie. She didn’t see Gabe glowering down at them from one of the upstairs windows. If she’d looked up, she would have seen his expression was one of utter fury.

* * *

He had forgotten how beautiful she was. No, that wasn’t true. He’d remembered her beauty, but he had trained himself to look beyond it, to remember that her heart was quick to manipulate and lie. Every time he saw her smile and wanted to smile back, he remembered the photographs on her phone. The pictures of the Calypso design files that she’d snapped to show to her father—to bring his company down. It was easy to harden himself to her charms in the face of such obvious duplicity.

Every time she hummed under her breath and the song wound around his chest, tying him up in Abigail knots, he reminded himself that he’d had every reason to walk away from her and refuse to see her again.

When he woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat at dreaming of her pregnant and alone, wishing he could reach out and touch her, comfort her, know her, he reminded himself that her lies, her deceit had made that impossible.

He’d taught himself to ignore her beauty.

Only watching Abby as she was now, laughing with Hughie, he couldn’t help but notice. Her smile, her dimples, her sparkling eyes, the grace and fluidity of movement that were as much a part of her as were her arms and legs.

He’d kept her at a distance this last fortnight, and he’d been glad. As if every day that passed without more than an occasional civility, a brief greeting, proved that he was up to the challenge of being married to Abigail and not capitalising on the chemistry that flashed between them.

Hughie’s face was animated. He said something low and Abby had to lean closer to hear it properly. Her body, wrapped in one of the coats he’d bought her, made Gabe’s pulse throb. She tucked her hair behind her ear, her expression serious as she concentrated on what Hughie said, and then she laughed again, reaching a hand out and touching his forearm. Their eyes met and Hughie’s look of admiration was obvious.

Gabe swore into his office and dragged a hand through his hair.

She was serious now, her expression almost haunted, her eyes focused on the house, and Gabe’s heart shifted in his chest. She was beautiful when she laughed, and enigmatic when she was sombre. Both emotions seemed to call to him in a way he utterly resented.

Just the sight of another man looking at Abby like Hughie was stirred a dark, possessive lust within Gabe’s bones.

She was the mother of his child, the woman who’d given her virginity to him. She was his in so many ways… He just had to remind her of that.

* * *

‘Where do you want it?’ Hughie asked, straightening the tree as though it were simply a bunch of flowers.

‘I suppose the study?’ Abby murmured, thinking of the room that had the comfortable leather lounges and a view of the alps.

‘The study is nice,’ Hughie said. ‘But it’s out of the way, and I’m not sure this beast you’ve chosen will fit. It might have to be the entrance hall.’

He was right. Here at the house, without the other enormous trees dwarfing it, Abby could see the tree she’d chosen was actually quite large.

‘Okay.’ She nodded in agreement, equally pleased with the idea of the tree being set in the midst of the beautiful armchairs and sofa that sat in the foyer.

‘Abigail?’ There was a coldness in Gabe’s voice. She turned to face him slowly, marshalling her expression into one of dispassionate curiosity, ignoring the kaleidoscope of butterflies that had begun to beat against her insides.

Why did he have to be so handsome? Even now, wearing dark jeans and a black pullover, he looked like a piece of art.

‘I need you for a moment.’

‘Oh.’ Abby chewed on her lip. ‘We were just about to set up the tree…’

‘I can see that,’ Gabe responded with barely suppressed anger.

‘You’re all right, Abby,’ Hughie interrupted with a grin. ‘I can wrangle this monster on my own.’

She was sure he could, but that wasn’t the point. She’d been looking forward to helping. She shot Gabe a look of impatience but when she saw the dark, almost tortured emotions in the lines around his eyes, her own emotions ebbed. Had something serious happened?

‘Okay.’ She had a sense of urgency about her now. ‘I’ll be back soon.’

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