Bedding The Billionaire (9 page)

Abbey playfully threw a pencil at her friend. It
missed her by a mile. "Stop reminding me about the money. After the crap I
heard come out of that arrogant jerk's mouth, I probably should've taken it. The
guy's attitude is stuck in the Nineteen Eighties. I don't think the word
'sensitive' is even in his vocabulary."

"Pity I wasn't there," Lucy said having
another look over the negatives. "I would've given him a talking to about
how to treat a lady."

"And he'd turn around and tell you I wasn't a
lady." Abbey sighed. She definitely hadn't behaved like a lady last night.
She'd never slapped anyone across the face before, although she'd been tempted
to in Tarken's office on Monday morning.

Damien Vane had had it coming though. Despite what
Lucy said, being called a hooker was an insult, no matter how honest the
mistake.

Besides, if she were a hooker, what did that make him?
Pathetic, that's what.

She was going to forget Damien Vane.

"Vane by name, vain by nature," Abbey
mumbled.

"Now, now, leave the poor guy alone. I think you
just confused the hell out of him. He obviously needed to get laid and you just
happened to be conveniently on his doorstep at the time."

"Lucky me."

"Hey, now I like this one." She pointed to
one of the negatives. "It's quite artistic, if I do say so myself. I think
we'll send Mrs. Vane this one. It doesn't show your face, so your anonymity
will be preserved, but it has a great shot of him at the moment of truth. Here,
have a look." Lucy couldn't afford to buy expensive digital
cameras—not the kind that could do everything she needed—and she
said she liked working with the older models anyway.

She shoved the roll under her friend's nose. Abbey
turned away and held up her hands in protest. "No, I don't want to see
them. I don't want to be reminded of my stupidity, okay? And I wish you
wouldn't study those so closely. It's bad enough knowing you saw everything
when it actually happened."

Lucy grinned. "Don't worry, Abbey Girl. I only
saw up to the moment when you got dressed. I didn't see the slap."

Abbey frowned. "You know what I mean. Did you
really have to watch the whole thing?"

Lucy stood. "Hell yes! It was fantastic! My own
private porno movie. And this camera's a beauty. I zoomed in real close
—
"

"Lucy!"

Lucy laughed and Abbey couldn't help joining in. Her
friend may be crude and probably did watch the whole thing, but she was
discrete, and would never let anyone know what had happened. It was between the
two of them. Strangely, Abbey felt just a little closer to Lucy because of it.

Last night, when she'd got back to the office block
across the road from Le Meridian, Abbey had sprung Lucy in the middle of the
floor of the darkened foyer, on top of the naked building supervisor. She
coughed, once, but they either ignored her or were too involved in each other
to notice. When the panting and gasping got too much for her, she'd waited
outside until Lucy joined her.

Since then, Abbey had been thinking about Damien
—
and
sex with Damien
—
non-stop. She alternated between hot flushes and
cold anger. It wasn't fair that a man had that much power over her that he
could change her body temperature just by thinking about him.

The phone rang on the desk and Abbey jumped.

Lucy picked it up. "Richmond P.I. How can I help
you?"

She paused, pulled a face, and handed the receiver to
Abbey.

"Who is it?"

"Tarken. Tell him where to go so we can go out
for a drink."

Abbey sighed and put the phone to her ear. "What
do you want, Tarken?"

"First of all, you can tell that slutty friend of
yours that I'm not going anywhere until we've sorted everything out,
Abbey." Tarken's voice softened. "I mean that. I want you back. I
need you."

Abbey leaned back in the chair and sighed. "Office
in chaos, is it?"

Tarken laughed lightly. Abbey knew him well enough to
know it was fake. "Now, why do you think that? No, I just want you, you
fool. I love you. I made a mistake with Melinda, a huge mistake."

"Too late, Tarken. A lot's changed in two days,
and I wouldn't take you back if you paid me. And I'm so poor, that's not a
statement you should take lightly. Got it? Now, unless there's something else,
I'm going. I've got some serious drinking to do with Lucy."

"Wait! Abbey, don't go."

"Tarken, I'm busy. I'm helping Lucy with a big
case she's working on."

Tarken paused on the other end of the line and she
could almost hear his brain contemplating that piece of information. He'd be
thinking that she wasn't so dependent on him after all, that her life was
already moving ahead. Abbey smiled at the huge dent that realization would make
in his ego.

"Who was that guy you were with last night?"
he asked.

Abbey felt her heart thump as she thought about how
Damien had defended her honor despite his inappropriate dress. Another thing
that didn't fit the profile locked away in Lucy's filing cabinet. The Damien
Vane she'd read about was a duplicitous two-timer, not a defender of women.

"None of your business," she snapped into
the phone.

"He reminds me of somebody..."

"Well, that's nice to know. Good bye."

"Wait! One more thing."

"Yes?"

"That report by Driscoll
—
what would
it be filed under?"

Abbey slammed down the phone. "How did you ever
let me go out with that creep?" she asked Lucy.

Lucy held up her hands. "I didn't, remember? You
insisted. You know, you should listen to me more."

"I should listen to you
less
. That way I
wouldn't be in this mess with Damien Vane."

"What mess? I don't see a mess." Lucy came
round the desk and placed an affectionate arm around her friend's shoulders and
squeezed. "All I see is a woman and man having great sex together. Leave
it at that, Abbey. Forget about him now. We got what we wanted."

Abbey nodded. "Yeah, I'm over-reacting, I
know."

"You always were the sentimental one."

"I'm surprised you even know that word
exists."

Lucy grinned. "Don't ask me to spell it."

They laughed and gave each other a hug.

"Come on," said Lucy, "lets go out for
a drink."

"How are we going to pay?"

"I've got a little left over from the last
job."

"But you might need it," Abbey protested.

Lucy shrugged. "We'll get the money from the Vane
job soon, so don't sweat it. There's enough to last. It's only money."

Abbey stood and placed her hands on her hips. "Tomorrow
I'm going to hit the interview path hard. And when I get a job I'm going to buy
you drinks every night for a week."

Lucy grinned. "Sounds good to me."

She closed the office door and they walked down the
corridor arm in arm.

Lucy's office was located in a rundown part of
Richmond, in an old warehouse converted into tiny offices in desperate need of
repair. Besides Lucy's P.I. office, there was a clinic specializing in male
sexual problems, a debt collection agency, and a lawyer who'd just gotten out
of prison after spending two years inside for fraud.

Not exactly the company Abbey liked her friend to mix
with on a daily basis, but so far Lucy had had no trouble from her neighbors. And
if she did, Abbey hated to think what would happen. Lucy had a black belt in
Tai Kwon Do and judo. She'd seen her flip a man twice her size. Few people
stood a chance when Lucy set her mind to something.

They hopped down the stairs, careful not to step on
the broken one or touch the splintering balustrade, and opened the door. Outside,
the heat hit them like a blast from a furnace.

"We'll take my car," said Lucy. "Days
like this call for little sexy sports cars."

Abbey agreed. Lucy's car was a red convertible, just
the sort of thing to be seen in on a hot day. At the beach.

"Let's go to St. Kilda," Abbey suggested.

"Great idea. We'll go for a swim then head to the
Stoke House for a drink."

They got in the car and zoomed off. She wasn't dressed
for swimming, but for once Abbey didn't care. Her short summer dress with the
buttons up the front would dry quickly enough in this heat. She'd spent the
last two nights doing things she wouldn't normally do, so why worry about a
little thing like not wearing a swimming costume?

Lucy was dressed for anything, as usual. In her sexy,
tight black shorts and white shoestring strapped top she would blend in with
the cool rollerbladers, body builders and poseurs on St. Kilda's foreshore.

They both wore mandatory dark sunglasses and Lucy
always kept a bottle of sunscreen in the glove box, so there was nothing they
lacked for an afternoon at the beach.

Swimming and sun baking was just what Abbey needed to
forget about Damien Vane.

***

The I.T. Director of the hospital droned on and on. Nick
nodded at pertinent moments, like when he said he'd never seen a software
package that could do everything he wanted, but he never really heard more than
a few choice words. Fortunately, the director didn't seem to realize that Nick
wasn't listening, nor did any of the others who visited Software Solutions
stand at the seminar that day.

And fortunately, Nick had done enough demos already
for them to become mechanical. Just as well, because his brain was not
functioning normally. Maybe it was the lack of sleep and the heat.

Who was he kidding? He couldn't sleep because he
couldn't stop thinking about Abbey. Just like he couldn't stop thinking about
her now as the overweight, balding man droned on about his computer system
needs.

Images of her luscious body filled his thoughts—her
round breasts, pert bottom and the way she sighed when he touched her.

And the way she'd slapped him.

Nick could still feel the sting of her hand on his
cheek. Or maybe that was the sting to his ego. He'd never been slapped before,
and he was damned sure he would never let his guard down enough that it would
happen again.

It crossed his mind that he might have deserved it,
but he shoved those thoughts away just as he tried to shove away thoughts of
Abbey's naked body. He was unsuccessful on both counts.

So if she wasn't a hooker, what was she? And why did
she have sex with him?

Maybe her story was true. Maybe she really was a
masseur, employed by the hotel to give free massages to selected guests. Maybe
the moment had just overcome her, as it had done him, and she'd been unable to
resist the passion that had arisen between them. Maybe she'd enjoyed it so much
on the first night she'd decided to come back for more.

But it still didn't add up. And it begged the question
—
how
many other men had she been giving free "massages" to when the moment
had just overcome her? Nick didn't want to think about that.

He nodded as the bald director ran through the
configuration of their network and other dry details that Nick knew he should
be listening to. The thought of Abbey coming back again, tonight, wanting him
again, needing to make love to him like he needed to make love to her, was
consuming him.

But it wouldn't happen. He'd insulted her. She hated
him. No, Abbey wasn't coming back. He'd never see her again, of that he was
sure. His gut tightened.

Maybe he could just hang around in the foyer until she
appeared for work.

Nick shook his head. This was ridiculous. Her story
was most likely a lie. And if she wasn't prepared to tell him last night who or
what she was, then he didn't want to see her again.

No one lies to Nick Delaware, and no one makes a fool
of him. Abbey had done both.

Nick sighed and wondered if it would be unprofessional
to wind up this discussion. It was his last demo for the day and suddenly he
had an urge to go to the beach. Maybe it was his subconscious thinking about
Abbey again since she'd mentioned beaches at the restaurant. The thought of sun
and sand was relaxing. He could spend the afternoon at a local beach, then
return to the hotel to do some work. He had two major pharmaceutical companies
to demo to tomorrow and he wanted their business. He needed to be prepared, and
fresh. He needed to concentrate on the task, not on a naked Abbey.

An hour later, he was diving into the cool shallows of
Port Phillip Bay. The rush of water over his skin was refreshing, soothing his
frustrated temper. He stayed under until his lungs felt like they'd burst. Then
he swam out, further out than anyone else, stroke over easy stroke, becoming
one with the sea.

He
floated on his back for a while, staring up at the impossibly blue sky, just
like he used to do when he surfed at Bondi Beach in his younger, wilder days. He
felt a twinge of regret that he hadn't really noticed how blue the summer sky
was in nearly ten years.