Penmort Castle (48 page)

He watched her
face pale but she said, “No.”

He put his
coffee cup down and got close, sliding his hands around her waist.
His face chased hers as her eyes moved anywhere but to him until
she finally gave in on a sigh and looked at him.

“Whatever
happens, happens, pumpkin,” Kieran murmured. “I’m happy to adopt
and I’m happy for it just to be the two of us for the rest of our
lives. You know that.”

Jenny sighed
again. “I know it.”

He touched his
forehead to hers. “Don’t let it worry you.”

Her eyes slid
away and she whispered, “You always talked about wanting a son to
go out and –”

His mouth hit
hers, effectively silencing her, a trick he’d learned years ago and
one he utilised more than occasionally.

When he lifted
his head, he said, “I want you. All the rest is just icing. You
know that too.”

Jenny’s lips
tipped up at the ends and she replied quietly, “I know it.”

“Stop
worrying,” Kieran demanded.

“Okay,” Jenny
lied.

Kieran grinned
then muttered, “Liar.”

Before the
glittering spark in her eye could be translated verbally, he kissed
her, far deeper this time.

Then he went to
work.

* * * * *

Kieran was
barely out the door when Jenny’s mobile rang.

She was glad of
it. Anything to keep her mind off the appointment Monday, even if
it had to do with Abby, her new boyfriend (who Jenny didn’t know
whether to love or hate) and the ghost that wanted Abby dead.

Regardless of
what Kieran said, Jenny wanted a baby and she wanted to give him a
son. She wouldn’t plunge into a suicidal depression if she
couldn’t, but she would still be devastated. They’d been trying to
get pregnant for ages (and working hard at it), so she didn’t think
the news would be good.

She was not
looking forward to Monday in any way.

So she
resolutely set these thoughts aside and grabbed her mobile.

The display
said, “Cassandra Calling”.

Jenny flipped
it open and put it to her ear.

“Hey girl,” she
said by way of greeting, as usual hiding her dark thoughts of
moments before.

“Hey mate,”
Cassandra replied. “Listen, can you talk?”

Jenny thought
Cassandra had called for a gossip session and asked, “Is this about
our summons to Cash’s offices today?”

“No,” Cassandra
answered. “Though, gotta admit, I was surprised. And pleased. It’ll
help, him being in the know.” She hesitated and went on with a
smile in her voice. “And I wouldn’t mind seeing where he works, see
if it’s like in the movie.”

“I’m noticing
not a lot about Cash is like that movie,” Jenny replied and heard
Cassandra chuckle.

“Yeah, that
actor, whatever-his-name-is, was fit, but I don’t think I’ve ever
met anyone who can suck the entire life force out of the room like
Cash can. He’s a powerhouse. I can see why they wanted to make a
movie about him but there’s no
way
you could capture
something like that on film,” Cassandra noted.

Jenny didn’t
want to talk about what a powerhouse Cash was because she thought
it sucked that practically everything about him seemed wonderful
but he was, if their secret conversation was anything to go by,
not
.

Jenny changed
the subject. “Why’d you call?”

Cassandra took
a moment before answering, “Are you sitting down?”

Jenny felt her
heart lurch and lied, “Yes.”

“Okay, mate,
take a breath,” Cassandra advised and Jenny did as she was told
then heard Cassandra say, “My friends in Virginia, they made
contact.”

Jenny knew what
she was saying. In desperation, she, Mrs. Truman and Cassandra had
come up with the idea days ago.

Jenny stumbled
to a chair at the kitchen table and sat.

“Ben?” she
whispered.

“Yes,”
Cassandra answered.

Jenny closed
her eyes and felt tears prickling the backs of them at the very
thought of what this might mean when she asked, “He didn’t go to,
um… the other plane?”

“He did. They
used the entire coven to pull him out,” Cassandra told her.

Jenny’s eyes
opened but only to blink in shocked surprise. “You can do
that?”

“In life and
death circumstances and if the coven is powerful, yes.”

“My God,” Jenny
breathed.

Cassandra went
on. “They’re un-tethering him. He’ll be at the castle Saturday
night.”

“My God,” Jenny
repeated.

“Are you okay?”
Cassandra asked.

“No,” Jenny
told her in all honesty. “You’re telling me the ghost of my good
friend is going to fight the ghost who wants to kill my best
friend. A ghost who happens to be under the mistaken impression
that Cash Fraser is in love with my good friend ghost’s wife.”
Jenny wasn’t making much sense but didn’t care.

Ben was going
to be at the castle.

With Abby.

And Cash!

“Widow,”
Cassandra said softly, taking Jenny out of her thoughts.

“What?” Jenny
asked.

“Widow. Abby’s
his widow, no longer his wife,” Cassandra replied.

“She’ll always
be Ben’s wife,” Jenny retorted.

“She stopped
being his wife a long time ago, Jenny,” Cassandra returned
gently.

Jenny shook her
head sharply, not about to fight this point, not wanting even to
think
about this point, so she said, “Whatever. Ben has got
to know, your coven friends have got to tell him that Abby can’t
see him. She’ll freak.”

“He’ll do what
he has to do,” Cassandra said.

“Cassandra, you
don’t know how it is. Abby can’t see him, she’ll
freak,
”
Jenny repeated.

“He’ll do what
he has to do or she’ll
die,
” Cassandra noted firmly.

Jenny hated to
admit it, but she had a point.

Jenny thought
it was time to move on to the next subject. “Are we carpooling to
Cash’s offices?”

“I’ll drive,”
Cassandra offered.

“All right
then, see you soon,” Jenny said and they rang off.

Jenny flipped
her phone shut and put it on the table.

“Well, one
thing’s certain,” she told her phone. “I’m not worried about the
fertility clinic anymore.”

Jenny’s phone
had no response.

* * * * *

Abby walked
into Cash’s offices and saw him immediately.

He was behind a
glass wall in a conference room with at least a dozen other people.
He was sitting at the head of the table wearing one of his
impeccably tailored suits, this one black with a shirt of deep grey
and a fantastic black tie with a grey and red pattern on it. He had
a heavy, expensive-looking black pen with gold accents in his
fingers. He was upending it, the pen sliding through his fingers,
only for him to catch it at the tip and upend it again.

Someone was
standing at the foot of the table speaking to the group and there
were charts projected on the wall behind him. Cash’s attention was
focused on the speaker but Abby had only taken a few steps into the
reception area when Cash’s head turned and his black eyes hit
her.

She’d been in a
clothing crisis all morning not knowing what to wear to this
meeting, especially since it was at Cash’s office.

It was one
thing when she was getting paid to be his girlfriend and going out
to dinner at restaurants surrounded by people they didn’t know. It
was another to
be
his girlfriend and go to his office where
all his staff could see (and judge) her.

She’d decided
professional class was her best bet. But even when she was working
she rarely wore traditional suits. Instead, she dressed, as Ben
used to say, like Princess Diana with attitude (but without the
hats).

That day she
chose one of her old work suits. A soft fawn colour with a fitted
skirt, the hem brushed her knees and it had slits up each side. One
of the reasons she bought the suit was that the jacket fit like it
was made for her, had a nipped-in waist and a succession of smart,
intricate pleats falling from her waist at the back. She wore this
with a shiny, cream satin blouse that she always unbuttoned just
one button below professional, as she did today. She’d put on her
mocha suede high-heeled boots, matching wide belt and you could see
a hint of flesh-coloured fishnet stockings covering her knees
between the top of the boots and the hem of the skirt. She wore her
pearl earrings and choker her parents gave her for her wedding and
her gold watch. She had blown her hair dry sleek, left it long and
did her makeup in her “Edgy Professional” look. Lastly, she’d worn
her mother’s taupe coat but had taken it off on the way up in the
elevator and now it was over her forearm, her mocha, patent-leather
clutch shoved under her arm.

She held her
breath as Cash’s eyes did a sweep of her finally coming to rest on
her face.

Then she
watched him smile a slow, lazy, gorgeous smile and she felt that
smile shoot straight from her heart, through her belly, right
between her legs.

Then Abby
heard, “Can I help you?”

Tearing her
gaze with some difficulty from Cash’s smile, Abby turned her head
to the young, attractive, very professionally dressed woman seated
behind the reception desk and Abby moved toward her.

“I’m Abigail
Butler. I’m here –” Abby started but the girl shot out of her
seat.

“Abby. Right,”
she said, rounding her desk, “Cash said you were coming.” Her head
tilted to the conference room and she continued. “As you can see,
he’s in a meeting but he’ll be out in a minute.” She motioned
toward a hallway, walking ahead, obviously expecting Abby to follow
(which she did) and went on. “I’ll take you to his office. Can I
get you a coffee? We have an espresso machine. I can make you a
latte or cappuccino.”

“Just a regular
coffee, white and strong, if you don’t mind,” Abby replied as the
woman turned to a door, opened it and led Abby in.

Abby took two
steps in and halted.

It was an
enormous corner office with a stunning view of Bath afforded from
all of its many windows. The desk was huge, messy, covered in
papers, file folders, some opened, some stacked, two phones (who
needed
two
phones?) and Cash’s laptop.

Outside the
messy desk, the rest of the office was immaculate. Just as she’d
noticed in the reception area and hall, the décor was a successful
mixture of traditional and modern. Wood panelled walls, heavy,
elegant furniture but with modern art, fixtures and fittings.

His office not
only held his desk but two large, black leather chairs facing it.
There was a stylish but comfortable-looking couch with a low table
in front of it against one wall as well as a smaller conference
table that accommodated six to the other side. One entire wall was
taken up with a built-in unit with illuminated shelves, one
containing glasses, a wider one containing decanters of liquor,
still others containing interesting bronze sculptures and there was
even a counter with a sink as well as several spaces covered with
doors and all the doors had locks.

“White coffee.
Strong,” the woman said, “be right back.” And Abby turned to see
her rushing out.

“Wait,” Abby
called.

The woman
stopped and looked back at Abby.

Abby smiled. “I
didn’t get your name.”

The woman
blinked at her then said, “Emma.”

At this news,
Abby winced and muttered, “Oh dear,” and watched Emma blink again
as Abby moved to her, “I think I might need to apologise.”

Emma was
looking at her as if a spaceship was hovering outside Cash’s
windows and Abby had just stepped off of it.

“Sorry?” Emma
asked.

“The other day,
when Moira got in an accident, you called and I didn’t let you
finish. I think Cash got a little –” Abby explained and Emma cut
her off.

“It’s okay,”
she said quickly but shutters had come down over her eyes telling
Abby that she did, indeed, get into trouble and it was anything but
okay.

Therefore, Abby
blurted, “My husband was killed in a car accident.” She watched
Emma give a start and Abby went on. “Four years ago. I overreacted
when you called. Panicked really. I tried to explain that to Cash
and that I hadn’t let you finish but he was a bit, um…” How could
she explain it? She tried to be tactful. “
Put out
that I was
in that state.”

Emma regarded
her for a moment then Abby watched as her gaze unshuttered and her
eyes went soft. “I get it now and that’s understandable.”

“Still, I’m
sorry,” Abby pressed and Emma smiled at her.

“That’s okay,”
she nodded, meaning it this time, then turned saying, “I’ll just
get your coffee.”

Emma left and
Abby threw her coat and bag on Cash’s couch, went to the windows
and looked at Bath.

Cash had asked
her to arrive half an hour earlier than the others, he hadn’t
explained why and she hadn’t asked. Now, clothing crisis averted,
the Emma apology over, she had time to wonder why.

As she
contemplated this, Abby had no idea what was going on outside
Cash’s door.

She had no idea
that Cash Fraser had many women come to his office. However, they
were there briefly, so briefly they waited in the reception area
and they were rarely offered coffee.

She also had no
idea that Cash had not taken a single one of them on a business
trip.

She also had no
idea that his expense report for Germany had been gossiped about at
length by a motor mouth in the finance department. Fuelled as well
by the pictures in the papers, interest about Cash and Abby was
running rampant.

Therefore, she
had no idea that the traffic in the hall outside Cash’s open office
door while she stood pondering his desire to have her there early
was far heavier than normal.

Emma brought
her coffee, chit chatted with Abby for a few minutes and then
explained she had to get to her desk.