Page 6 of Bound by Their Christmas Baby

‘No!’ It was a harsh denial in a silent room. ‘Not when every word that comes from your mouth is a self-serving lie.’

She clamped her lips together and his eyes chased the gesture, remembering how her pillowy lower lip had felt between his teeth. A kick of desire flared inside him. Desire? For this woman?

What was wrong with him?

Celibacy, that was what. He should have found someone else for his bed before this—why had he let the ghost of Abby fill his soul for so long?

‘You traded your body, your looks, hell, your virginity, because of what it could get you. That makes you no better than…’

He didn’t finish the sentence but his implication hung between them, angry and accusing.

‘I wanted you, Gabe, just like you wanted me. Calypso wasn’t a part of that.’ She blinked up at him, and he felt it. The same charge of electricity shot from her to him that had characterised that first night, their first meeting. It was a bolt of lightning; he was rattled by heavy, drugging need. God, would he forgive himself for acting on it? For leaning down and kissing her, for pushing her to the floor and making her his one last time before kicking her out of his life for good?

No.

She had used him; he wouldn’t use her.

That wasn’t his style. And, no matter how great the sex had been, he sure as hell wasn’t going to compromise his own morals just because he happened to find her desirable.

He jerked his gaze away and thrust his hands onto his hips with all the appearance of disregard. ‘I don’t want you now,’ he lied.

‘I know that,’ she said, a hint of strength in the short words.

‘So? What’s your plan, Abigail? Why work for Rémy?’

‘I need the job—I told you.’

‘Yes, yes.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘You think I’m stupid enough to buy into your lies for a second time?’

She looked startled. ‘It’s not…it’s complicated. And I can’t tell you what I came here to say with you glaring at me like you want to strangle me.’

He almost laughed—it was such an insane accusation. ‘I don’t want to strangle you,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to touch you. I don’t want to see you. I’d prefer to think you don’t exist.’

She let out a slow, shuddering breath. ‘You actually hate me.’

‘Sì.’

‘Okay.’ She licked her lower lip. ‘I get it. That’s…actually strangely good to know.’

‘You didn’t know this already?’

She shook her head and then changed it to a nod, before pacing slowly across the room. She jammed her hands into her pockets, staring at the shining doors of the lift.

Gabe’s impatience grew. He couldn’t have said if it was an impatience to be rid of her or a need to know what the hell she’d come to him to say. Why had he been able to ignore her for a year and now suddenly he was burning up with a desperate need to hear whatever the hell she’d come to him for?

Because he’d seen her again. And he’d felt that same tug of powerful attraction, that was why. He needed to exercise caution—it was a slippery slope with Abigail, almost as though she were a witch, imbued with magical powers to control and contort him. There was danger in her proximity. The sooner he could be free of her, the better.

‘So?’ he demanded when she didn’t speak. ‘What’s going on? Why are you here? What do you want this time?’

She was wary. ‘Well, I’d like my job back,’ she said, somewhat sarcastically.

‘Pigs might fly,’ he said. ‘You’re just lucky I didn’t tell Rémy the full sordid story of how we met.’

r /> ‘Would it have mattered? He fired me anyway.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Did that give you satisfaction? To see me embarrassed like that? To see me thrown out?’

He considered it for a moment, his expression hard. ‘Yes.’

She squeezed her eyes shut and tilted her head towards the ceiling, breathing in, steadying herself. ‘You’re a bastard.’

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