Moment of Weakness: One Moment, Book 1 (13 page)

“Of course.” Abby had sunk to her knees, gripping tight to her friend’s hand. Stacy was the only good thing she had in her life. Without her… Abby shivered, not even wanting to contemplate the thought for fear it might come true.

“Then you need to hear me when I tell you to wake the fuck up,” her friend had said roughly. “People like Marcus don’t do this to play. They do it for love.” With that she’d wheeled herself to her cab, leaving Abby staring after her. Stunned.

And a lot of things to think about on the drive home. Not least being whether Stacy really was on her side, or whether Abby had finally managed to drive her only friend in the world away.

Just like everyone else.

Abby tried to make it home in one long drive. She didn’t want to stop for fear that what she’d left behind might catch up with her. But when the road became a blurry gray, and the center line wavered into two shimmering streaks, she conceded defeat and pulled over into one of the nameless, faceless hotels on the outskirts of Toledo.

After sustaining herself all day on coffee, Abby was in the mood for something a little stronger. Okay, a
lot
stronger. She dumped her bag in her room and headed straight for the bar. The hour was late but it was still open and there were two others desperate enough to use it. One old guy nursed a beer in a darkened corner while a businessman in a cheap, shiny suit sat at the bar. His eyes looked as red and droopy as Abby’s felt. Still, they flickered with interest when she entered.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if this was fate, the perfect opportunity to put Marcus behind her. If she found someone—anyone—to fill the hollow ache, it would prove she didn’t really care about him. That it’d all been a figment of her imagination. It would mean she was okay, and sex really was just sex. All Abby wanted to do was forget Marcus, so the pain in her chest would ease and the sick feeling in her gut would fade.

She dropped into a seat two chairs down from the younger man and he eyed her up as she glanced over. A nod as they acknowledged each other as predators.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Abby barely settled at the bar before he made the offer. And she considered it. He looked like a decent enough guy and he had a nice smile. It was only when she looked behind the smile that she could see loneliness clinging to him like a tangible aura.

While this kind of one-night stand didn’t hold the thrill of Abby’s normal hunt and chase, in principal she wasn’t averse to spending a night in bed with a stranger. A chance to fuck her way to oblivion. And he looked a little like Marcus…her body showed the first stirrings of interest.

“I won’t even ask your name.” He slid from his seat to take up residence on the stool beside her.

She wished he hadn’t. Up close, he didn’t look like Marcus at all…and didn’t that just suck the sexy right back out of her? No longer in the mood for a drink, Abby smiled with the barest stretch of her lips, her feeling of emptiness intensifying.

“Actually, I’m not thirsty anymore.”

She knew she’d made the right decision when her knockback barely registered a reaction. The businessman hadn’t even wanted her. She could’ve been anyone else and the offer would have been the same.

Suppressing a shudder, Abby beat a hasty retreat to her hotel room, relieved she hadn’t become that jaded. Yet. She refused to look too closely into her future. Red-eyed and desperate.

Besides, there were other ways to stop the incessant tumble of thoughts about Marcus, one of which included draining the mini-bar of anything resembling liquor. Only then did Abby get some much-needed sleep.

Her hangover the next morning stung like a bitch. And coming home was another hit to the solar plexus. Abby tried to ignore the emptiness of her apartment echoing back on a loop of silence. The sterile rooms meant nothing to her, a reflection of her own self-image, cold and empty.

Even Stacy had abandoned her. Abby stood in the hallway, willing the tears of self-pity away. Crying was weak. And weak people never won. She dropped her bag in the laundry to sort later, pushing down the sharp pang of hurt as she set about methodically wiping down dusty surfaces, unpacking her bag and restoring her wardrobe to its correct order.

Several times, her eyes lit on the phone in the corridor and the space where the answering machine used to be. Abby almost wished her sister would ring. At least then she might be able to release the hard ball of bitterness eating her insides. She wanted to scream and rant, to rage at Nicky about how she and Nathan had ruined her life.

Of course, both phones stayed frustratingly quiet.

An empty apartment could only be endured for so long and it was a relief to leave for the office after the weekend. God, when she’d run from Marcus like an escaped convict, she’d never considered how much worse it would be in Chicago on her own. It didn’t even feel like home. Without Stacy the office was just another room. There was nothing in here that was hers. No desk. No attachments. Nothing to anchor her.

Abby laid her head on the table, the cool wood doing little to dull her thoughts. She was torn up—old wounds rendered apart, fresh cuts dripping with acrid regret. This time around the loss was so much more.

Which made no sense. Nathan had been the love of Abby’s life, the man she was going to marry. He’d betrayed her. Her family had betrayed her, yet here she was, barely able to move because of Marcus, whom she’d hardly known for two months.

Then there was her argument with Stacy. She and Stacy never fought. Stacy was always supportive toward her—her anger had been like a slap to the face. Shocking. Devastating.

It would be easy to sit here and wallow in self-pity and let that drive a wedge between her and Stacy. One less relationship for Abby to have to worry about. One less burden for Stacy to carry.

Except, if Stacy abandoned her, then what? Abby had no one left to turn to. Besides which, Stacy truly was the only good thing left.

It was a no-brainer to pick up the phone.

“Why do you put up with me?” She barely waited for Stacy to answer. “I’m the worst friend ever! Yet you put up with all of my shit and clean up my problems for me. Why?”

“Because, I’m a sucker for punishment.” Stacy didn’t sound that surprised to hear from Abby. A sigh puffed down the phone. “You have no idea what you give me, do you? You think you’re incapable of caring. That’s bullshit. You care for me. And Terry. Hell, even my horrible kids.”

“Yeah, of course I do. I’m your friend.” Abby tried out a smile. “Anyway, they’re not horrible.”

“No. And neither are you,” Stacy said. “You try and act like you don’t care, like you’re in some emotion-free asylum, but you’re not. You care.” She took advantage of Abby’s silence to press on. “Caring for me doesn’t hurt you, does it?”

“No, of course not.” Abby found her voice to protest. “You’re the best thing in my life.”

“And isn’t that a miserable indictment?” Stacy laughed sadly. “You could have that with other people too, you know.” A pause. “You should talk to Marcus.”

Abby sucked in a breath at the mention of his name, her chest constricting. “No.” She was eager to relegate Marcus to yet another taboo subject swept under the doormat of her life. Another Nathan.

Marcus had accused her of letting Nathan steal something from her. He didn’t understand why she hadn’t fought back, especially when he knew how hard she could fight. But the truth was, she hadn’t wanted to. What was the point? Nicky had won Nathan. He’d made his choice and she’d let him go. As she hung up the call, Abby’s chest squeezed tight and her hand flew to her throat.

She’d let him go.
Would she have let Marcus go so easily… Abby knew the answer before the question formed in her mind and a sick feeling spread through her stomach. Hell. No. If Nathan had been Marcus, Abby would never have let Nicky get near him. She’d have fought tooth and nail to keep him.

Abby grabbed up her keys and ran to the car. The only way to be sure was to see Nicky. She knew where she lived. She’d driven past their house enough times, torturing herself with images of Nicky and Nathan.

Abby had to see Nicky one last time and put it behind her. Fight. Scream or cry. It had to end.

“Abby?” Nicky opened the door, surprise widening her eyes. A smile started to form then fell away when she saw the determination on Abby’s face. Her gaze flicked to the side nervously. “What are you doing here?”

Abby blew out her breath, trying to fight through the numbness to find her outrage. This was her chance to speak her piece, to rant and rave, to release three years of pent up hurt, to let her know once and for all she and Nathan and the baby would never be a part of her life.

Abby took one breath. Then another.

The seething rage that had always bubbled close to the surface was a silent, icy pool. Cold. Calm. Not gone. Not forgotten…but… Staring at the woman who had once been her sister, all Abby could think about were Marcus’s words. How by not letting go, she’d trapped them all in the past. She could see the lines of strain around Nicky’s mouth, the anxious, darting eyes.
Good.

She wasn’t ready to let her off the hook. Not yet. Too much had passed.

“You’re the one who keeps calling me.” She glared at her sister. “What do you want?”

Nicky’s eyes clouding with tears. “I want my sister back,” she said, taking a step forward. “I miss you.”

“You should’ve thought about that before you fucked my fiancé.” A small pang of anger sparked to life in Abby’s gut. But mostly she just felt sad. And tired.

“This has got to stop, Abby,” Nicky said quietly. “You weren’t even sure you loved Nathan. You admitted that to me the week before the wedding.”

“Everyone has pre-wedding jitters, Nicky.” Hurt slammed back with a vengeance. “It will never excuse what you did. It doesn’t make what you did right.”

“We didn’t know how to tell you,” her sister wailed with another of her well-worn pleas.

Abby’s hands clenched at her sides. “So you waited until I said something? Waited for me to speak up before you decided to come clean about what you were doing. You’re both cowards.” She spat, finally letting loose her anger. And it felt good. Her sister blanched and Nathan stepped up beside her. Abby hadn’t been expecting that. He rested a hand on Nicky’s back. Abby steeled herself to look at him, waiting for the pain to hit. Instead she felt only sorrow—sadness for the man she’d thought had loved her. For his weakness at not being able to tell her the truth. Fuck it. She’d deserved better.

“God. I’m so sorry, Abby. But I knew you didn’t love him,” Nicky cried out, her eyes glittering with tears. “Not like I love him. I gave up everything for him.”

“Everything?” Abby laughed roughly, unmoved by her tears. “You stole him. You stole my life!”

“I gave up you.”

“Big fucking deal. You still had someone you could share your life with.” Abby shut her eyes against the sudden well of her own tears. Tears she refused to shed. “You had love. You had each other. I haven’t had any of that.” Her gaze flicked between Nicky and Nathan, knowing they would never understand what their betrayal had cost her. “I will never trust anyone the way I trusted you. I’m always looking for the end before I even get to the beginning. You stole so much more than my fiancé.” Her stare arrowed back to Nathan. “Or my sister.”

Nathan couldn’t meet her eyes. Abby expected that. Nicky at least had the decency to look shattered. “Oh God. Abby.” She closed her eyes. “I didn’t know. I never thought you would…” She swallowed back her tears and took a step forward. “You’re so beautiful and kind and full of love…I felt sure you would find someone.” She flicked a glance toward Nathan.
Her
someone.

“That was who I used to be,” Abby said, her voice bleak with loss. She remembered how she’d been, how easily she had fallen in and out of love before she’d met Nathan. Then with her pregnancy scare and the engagement, she’d thought that was it—a solid, stable life with Nathan forever…until they’d ripped everything out from under her feet. She’d never seen it coming and it was like her world had suddenly ended.

But in some ways, hadn’t it also started? She’d finished her degree. She’d started up a decent business with Stacy. She’d met Marcus…

“I know I can never fix this.” Nicky drew her attention back to her and Nathan. “I know you don’t want to be in my life. And I deserve that. But the baby…” She let Abby truly see the guilt that was ripping her apart. “Do you think it was easy knowing I hurt you? I’m your big sister. I’m the person you should be able to trust! I can’t tell you how sorry I am for ruining that for you.” Nicky paused and her eyes flicked to Nathan. “I know I hurt you, Abby and I wish I could take it back,” she said, a sob catching in her throat. “But I still can’t give him up. I just can’t.”

The raw anguish in Nicky’s voice was like taking a knife in the back all over again. Abby’s hands curled into fists as she made herself look at them. Really look at them. Standing together, it was so clear they were connected in more ways than just physical with the small, unconscious touches, the unspoken communication, the love…

And they were unhappy because of her.

Abby took a step back. They’d all suffered. Nicky. Nathan. Even her cowardly mother. Nathan had never been a player. He was a kind and loving man who had fallen in love and hadn’t known what to do. The person he loved was her sister. Her sister was right. Abby had probably never loved him. Not like Nicky did.

It would never excuse what they’d done to her, but she could see their love was something they’d been prepared to do anything to keep hold of. It was the kind of love Abby deserved too. She’d denied herself because she’d been scared to open herself to love again. But in seeing Nicky and Nathan, Abby realized she wanted to be loved. To love in return. Fiercely. Irrevocably. Forever.

Her hands dropped to her sides and the hollow ache of despair filled her as she realized it was exactly the kind of love she’d just turned her back on.

Chapter Thirteen

Marcus paced the corporate lounge of LAX. He was one flight away from his final destination after a ten hour flight from New Zealand. He glanced at his watch and rubbed the grit from his eyes. Peered again. Four thirty. Was it afternoon or morning? Daylight glinted off the line of planes grounded on the tarmac.

Afternoon then.

Marcus slumped into the chair he’d dropped his overnight bag by earlier. The trip had been grueling, turning into more than just one night, more than one continent. Usually, he looked forward to getting home, except this time he knew what would be waiting. Nothing.

Twenty-odd years and Marcus had finally learned the cruel lesson that sometimes you had to lose to win. All his life he’d thought losing meant you were less than the other person. That you were less than nothing. Only to find that losing was sometimes the right thing to do.

But it was so much harder.

You did it because you cared enough about someone to want to lose. You did it for love.

Not that Abby had wanted to hear any of that. It was so damn frustrating. For the first time, this was something Marcus couldn’t fix fast and forget. Move on. He was powerless and there wasn’t a game plan in the world that could give him back control.

How had this happened? After Abby had come to him and offered herself, a brief glimmer of hope had flared that she might be capable of more than just games. Stupidly, Marcus had thought her willingness to open up had meaning.

Then she’d ran. That had cut deeper than losing, knowing she didn’t trust him with her heart. Even after he’d told her he loved her, she still thought it was part of the game.

He missed her. Marcus missed every single, crazy piece of Abby Harkness. He’d tried to escape the hurt by whipping overseas to sort out the Nagasaki situation once and for all. He’d gone to New Zealand expecting to sell the company and fire his thirty-three workers. He was ready for that. In fact in his present mood, he’d relished the thought of taking control and destroying something. Anything.

Then Rob had launched into an impassioned plea about what the company meant to him and how if Marcus supported him he would turn the failing business into a success. Rob had promised to invest every cent of his own money, if that was what it took to keep the company afloat. Rob’s hunger to accomplish the near impossible struck a chord with Marcus and he’d taken pity. It reminded him of when he’d experienced the same hunger. The passion.

All it’d taken was one chance.

One chance. Something Abby had never given him. It was a bleak thought, but then, anything to do with Abby was raw to the touch right now. And she was never far from Marcus’s thoughts.

Where was her passion? Where was her fight?

Where was his?

Or had he been so busy trying to win Abby, he’d forgotten to show her
he
was worth fighting for…

Marcus loved her. But he’d been so caught up in the fact he was losing, that he hadn’t shown Abby how much she actually meant to him. She hid in the game because she’d been hurt and was protecting herself, and all Marcus had done was push her to play harder.

Fuck. Marcus dropped his head in his hands and pressed his fingers against his eyelids.

What had he been trying to prove? He’d known she was hurting, yet Marcus had arrogantly expected Abby to give him everything. He’d offered nothing in return. Just pushed her harder. Until she’d broken.

Had he become so wrapped up in playing the game, he’d forgotten he didn’t always have to chase the win? When was the last time he’d stopped and simply enjoyed life, appreciated something, or someone, without calculating how he could beat them?

Marcus had faith in his feelings for Abby. He’d thought they had a future together and it was something he wanted more than any company he’d ever acquired. Any success. Any win.

And just when he’d realized life wasn’t a series of competitions, he was going to have to fight for Abby to give him his one chance. His fingers curled and uncurled against his thigh. It was the game of his life and he took no enjoyment from that fact, but Marcus vowed he would make her give it to him. He’d keep fighting because that was all he knew how to do and because he couldn’t let Abby go until she knew the truth. He loved her. He really, truly, fucking loved her.

It was o
nly the fact he was so damned tired that Marcus didn’t hop on a plane right then to Chicago. He needed a clear head to form the game plan of his life.

When he finally let himself into his apartment, it was well into the wee hours of the morning. He threw his keys on the counter, not bothering to turn on the lights. There was nothing here he wanted.

He half-undressed before collapsing into bed to wait for the exhaustion to haul him into sleep. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen either. He groaned as a familiar scent hit him like a punch to the gut. Marcus had changed the sheets a million times since that last night with Abby, yet he could still smell her, feel her touch and hear her sexy laughter.

Being hurt sucked. Marcus sighed. What did they say? At least you knew you were living. Oh, he knew he was living all right. His heart twisted painfully as he tried to forget about Abby Harkness for five minutes and get some much needed sleep.

When he awoke sometime later—or at least dreamed he did—it was to a warm body pressed against his. “Wha…”

“Shh.” A soft voice lulled him. Abby’s voice.

Yup, definitely dreaming. Marcus smiled sleepily and took full advantage of his fantasy to gather her closer. Dream or no dream, he would make the most of the woman haunting it.

That was his last thought before drifting back into darkness.

When Marcus woke the second time, he definitely wasn’t alone. Goldilocks was fast asleep. He wondered briefly if Abby was some kind of hallucination, a warped figment of his imagination. Maybe he wasn’t even awake. A quick glance around his room confirmed he was. Which begged the question…

“What are you doing here?” Marcus shook at Abby’s shoulder.

If she’d come here to play, he would set her straight. No more games.

Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea.

Abby’s eyes flew open the instant Marcus growled in her ear. Admittedly, she hadn’t thought this all the way through, sneaking into his bedroom just before morning. But once she’d had everything out with Nicky, getting back to Marcus had been the only thing on her mind.

She’d kind of hoped he’d wake up and
hay-yah
everything would be fixed. Certainly, waking up beside Marcus was something Abby had dreamed of since their first night together in Baltimore.

She’d thought Marcus had wanted it too.

Sitting up, Abby pushed her hair back from her face to glance at him. He looked so stern and stiff as he stared back in bemusement. Her stomach rolled uneasily, even as her heart melted at the sight of his sleep-tousled hair, the shadow of stubble along his chin. She reached up to touch his face, then faltered. Her fingers twitched, but she pushed forward to lay her trembling palm against his jawline.

Marcus’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t jerk away, but his expression remained wary. Abby let her hand drop, staring at her newly chewed nails as she fought the urge to get out of bed and run. She took a shuddering breath. Let it out again.

“I don’t want to play anymore.” It took every ounce of courage for Abby to say those few words. She steeled herself for rejection. Derision. Definitely humiliation. She deserved them all.

Marcus frowned. “You’d better explain,” he said gruffly.

Gazing up at the face of the man she loved gave Abby the courage to say what she needed to. “Rule one.” She started with a croak. “Only players. I’ve just said I’m not playing, so that one’s broken.” She twisted around onto her knees to face Marcus. He sat stiffly against the headboard and she reached out to cover his hand.

“Rule two.” Abby continued with a squeeze of her fingers. “Nothing but hot, hard sex.” She gave a rueful smile as her gaze subconsciously drifted over his chest. “While I do love hot, hard sex, I…I want more than that.”

Marcus’s eyes widened and she wanted to believe she saw the beginnings of understanding. Her heart lifted as he held up her hand and twined his fingers in hers.

“More?” He sounded out the word slowly. A quiver ran across his skin as she ran her fingers over the familiar ridges of his chest, lost for a moment in the feel of him, slick and smooth beneath her fingertips. Perfection. “This is what you want?” he asked, his voice a shallow whisper.

Abby smiled. This one was easy. “I figured it out. Having something is better than nothing. Right? I don’t want nothing. I want you, Marcus. You are my something.”

Marcus blew out a breath, eyes closing for a moment before his deep, whiskey stare blazed back at her fiercely. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t have a sudden urge to run. Possession had never seemed more right.

“Abby…”

“Please.” She stopped Marcus before he could speak. She had one more thing to say. Her last rule to break. “Third.” Her voice cracked as she strove to get the words out. Marcus’s heat, the scent of him ignited the fire inside her with a hard, biting need. “Just one night.” She took a breath, steadying herself. “I can’t pretend to know what will happen tomorrow but I’m exactly where I want to be right now. With you. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Marcus cupped her face, relief warring with hope, making his gaze deep and fiery. “Don’t you get it? You’re not going anywhere. Ever.” His lips twisted into a rueful grin. “It was never the winning, Abby. It just took me a while to figure that out.” He touched his nose to hers. “I grew up hating the feeling of being out of control, so I sought to control everything. Only you…you wouldn’t let me.” He lowered his mouth to her lips. Kissed her. Hard. “When I lost you…that’s when I found out what being truly powerless meant.”

Abby’s heart melted at his words and she stretched up to kiss him again. She anticipated a full-on assault, the ravishing hunger that always sparked so fiercely between them. But instead, Marcus plundered her lips gently, long intoxicating kisses that allowed a complete exploration, savoring the taste.

His hands moved down her body, skirting her breasts, skimming across her belly to settle at her hips. His mouth followed, tongue swirling patterns into her skin until he stopped to suckle at her nipples. Hot, wet, heat. Abby moaned, twisting her hands in his hair as his fingers found her wet, throbbing sex. His cock was a brand at her thighs and she wanted him. Badly.

Marcus lifted his head and his gaze bore down on her. “Yo
u’re not going anywhere.”

He said it like he meant it.

The moment their lips met, Abby poured everything she felt for Marcus into her kiss. Her love. Her desire. Her need for him. Her hands framed his face and she licked into his mouth, holding back nothing. The incredible power of purest sweet emotion was almost more than she could bear. His hands fisted her hair, holding her to him, their breath mingling together as two became one.

Like flame to tinder, sweetness morphed into hunger. Abby ran her hands under his shirt, desperate to touch Marcus flesh to flesh with nothing between them. She molded herself to him, rubbing her nipples against his chest, feeling the pleasurable sting of desire prickle across every inch of her skin.

When Marcus sheathed himself and eased inside to fill her, Abby almost sobbed in relief. The sensation was so…perfect. He started moving and thoughts evaporated like raindrops in the desert, forgotten as he thrust inside her, spurring her on with urgent murmurs that caressed her senses as surely as if his hands were tracing words across her skin. He took his time, ensuring she could feel every inch of his hard length as he glided into her. Slid out. Pushed in again.

His hands tightened on her hips, his own flexing to meet her urgent demands. Her nails raked his chest and she gasped out loud, knees clenching him tightly. The air overflowed with their blended scent, the sound of their heavy breaths punctuated by the slap of flesh as Marcus drove her higher. Harder.

Abby’s gaze caught in his, the warmth in his eyes intensified as his pleasure rebounded on her, each sensation more powerful than the last. A low moan eased from her lips and Marcus’s eyes flared. His breathing quickened and a moment later so did his pace, until he was pounding into her. Unrelenting.

It was too much. Abby’s muscles squeezed tight as her orgasm hit. She cried out, clenching around him, feeling the jerk of his cock as he buried himself deep and came with her. Marcus gathered her to him, head burrowing into her shoulder, lips brushing at her skin. Abby shuddered, relaxing into his embrace. She was so happy, there were no words. Content. Yes. This was what true contentment felt like.

It took a few moments for Abby to find the energy to raise her head from his chest. She kissed the crease of his lips and rubbed her cheek against his.

“This forever thing. Is that a new rule?” Smiling, she traced the path her lips had just taken with her fingers.

“Is that going to be a problem Ms. Harkness?” he asked, the glint of humor in his eyes shadowed by uncertainty.

Abby pulled him down until his forehead rested on hers. “You’ll be surprised what I’ll do for love,” she said, making sure he read in her gaze the absolute truth in her words. Truth, as well as her love, her desire, her need for him. And her own uncertainty too.

There were no guarantees. Abby understood that better than most. But it was time to put herself on the line and open up to all of love’s possibilities.

Rules or no rules, Marcus was worth that.