Tainted Love (2 page)

Abbi and Ben lived ten minutes from Highgate tube station, which made commuting to work very easy for them. Parking in London was becoming more and more of a nightmare, with congestion charges and lack of spaces, not to mention traffic jams. Just being the two of them, they were fine using trains and cabs. Now and then, if they took off for a romantic weekend in the country, they just rented a car.

Half way down the escalator, Abbi heard the train screeching to a halt on the tracks.
Oh shit!
She could be late but missing this train was going to be pushing it, even for her. She ran down towards the platform, managed to jump through the train doors just as they closed and banged into the side of someone holding onto the rail.

‘I am so sorry!’ she exclaimed after hearing a ‘Whoa!’ somewhere in the collision. Righting herself as the train began to move, she looked up past the arm she had collided with and into the eyes of the most attractive man she had ever seen.
Oh my God!

The man laughed, then asked, ‘Are you okay?’

Wow. He’s talking to me. Say something
! ‘Er … Yes, sorry,’ Abbi said flicking back her long blonde hair, trying to compose herself.
Stop acting like a complete idiot
. ‘I’m running a little behind this morning and thought I was going to miss the train,’ she rambled on.

‘No worries at all.’ The man smiled at her. ‘Been there more times than I care to remember.’

‘I hope I didn’t hurt you,’ Abbi said, giving him the once over, searching for a flaw
. Surely no man can be this perfect!
She eyed him from his sculptured facial features right down to his strong thighs encased in a pair of dark blue designer jeans. Perfect!

‘I’ll survive,’ he said, revealing a white smile.

‘Um, good and er … thanks for serving as a barrier,’ Abbi said sheepishly as she lowered her gaze to the ground. She thought she’d faint if she looked into his eyes again.

‘Anytime,’ he said.

Abbi turned reluctantly, then walked along the carriage to the next available seat and planted herself down. Now she could relax. She had a twenty minute ride to King’s Cross where she would change to the Piccadilly line for another twenty minute journey, and then a ten-minute walk to work. She pulled her phone out of her jacket and flipped through the photos of Ben and Buddy. She needed something to dislodge the memory of the dreamboat she’d just bumped into. Moments later her eyes involuntarily glanced up again. The man had left his spot holding onto the rail and had settled in a seat four rows up from where she sat. From her vantage point, Abbi could look at him without being noticed.

He had taken out a book that looked like a history of something. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, and he appeared to be quite engaged in what he was reading. Abbi liked looking at him. In fact, she loved looking at him.
How can he possibly look like that? Where do people like him come from?
Up until now, she thought people like him just existed on the covers of magazines. But he was real. In the flesh real.

She was staring. She knew it. She tried to pretend that she was looking at her phone, but anyone really watching her would have seen her eyes were fixed on this stranger on the train. Abbi began to think back. Wow. If she had known, she was going to collide with him while she frantically jumped through the closing doors, she definitely would have taken much more advantage of that situation.

Abbi settled back in her seat, resting her head against the cold glass window. She closed her eyes and slowly a vision began to unfold behind her eyelid
s
….

The lights in the bar are low, giving the room an intimate feel. The man from the train is sitting alone, drinking whiskey from a crystal tumbler. He’s wearing an open-necked shirt, revealing smooth, lightly tanned skin. I take a seat next to him, my senses are swimming from the scent of the heady aftershave he wears. He turns and looks at me. I can feel my temperature rising as he lowers his thick, black lashes and asks me if I want to share his drink.

I nod my head slowly. I feel as if I’m falling under a hypnotic spell. As I take the glass, our fingertips touch and a strange tingling sensation grips my body like a vice. His blue eyes study me intently, as I take a small sip of the pale-coloured liquid. I wince sharply as the bitter taste dances on my tongue. Suddenly the man leans against me and his touch awakens every nerve in my body. The atmosphere is so intoxicating, even the air seems to be holding its breath.

‘Do you want to have a drink somewhere more private? I’ve got a room here,’ he asks in a quiet whisper as he strokes the inside of my thigh with the tip of his finger.

I’m lost in his eyes. I’d agree to anything if it meant being alone with him. Again I nod and the man slips from his seat and heads for the exit. Full of anticipatory adrenaline, I follow him to the lift. The way he walks carries its own kind of excitement. We travel up to the hotel room on the fifth floor in silence, our eyes alive with the anticipation of what we both know is coming.

‘Take a seat,’ he instructs me in a deep velvet edged voice, before disappearing into the bathroom.

I cross the room and take a seat on a plush chair by the window. My hands are trembling and my breathing speeds up as my heart pounds against my rib cage. I know it’s too late to back out now, but I wouldn’t even if I could. This is what I want. What my body needs! To be ravished by this gorgeous, hot man. Why should I deny myself such pleasure?

The bathroom door opens and he steps out. I am enraptured by him but at the same time, filled with a strange fear. My eyes are riveted on his nakedness. Tall, muscular and graceful
–
a lethal combination. Fascinated, I watch as he walks towards me and stops in front of me before dropping to his knees.

I dare to meet his exacting gaze. He reaches up, and his finger slowly trails along my jaw line before moving defiantly to my mouth and slipping in between my lips. I can tell by the challenging gleam in his eyes that he is enjoying the effect he is having on me. I am a lioness being tamed by an expert tamer. His finger caresses my tongue before coming to an abrupt halt. I widen my eyes in surprise. I want to feel him inside me, but I say nothing, because he’s in control. The very thought of being submissive to this man makes my centre ache with such need that it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to reach down between my legs and caress myself right there and then.

Without saying a word he begins to undress me, tantalisingly slow, brushing his fingers over my erect nipples as he unbuttons my shirt. Next he removes my jeans, pulling them off in one swift movement. The back of his hand rubs firmly against my centre before he removes my underwear. Suddenly I’m naked and exposed but I don’t feel vulnerable
–
I feel horny and ready for anything and everything he wants to do to me. I wiggle a little as he ducks his head down between my legs
–
I can feel the heat of his tongue as he blazes a trail towards my throbbing centre. Time has stopped. I have forgotten everything, even what I am doing here. My body quivers with a desire I’ve never felt before. I move my hands down to his head, tugging a handful of thick hair when his tongue makes contact with my pulsating nub. Minutes later, I’m suddenly hit with a sensation that ripples through my body, causing me to arch my back as waves of ecstasy flood through me. He lifts his face to meet mine, a wolfish grin on his lips. I lean forward, anticipating his mouth on mine, desperate to taste him again. Just as I feel his lips….

‘Next stop, Camden Town!’

The loud announcement jolted Abbi out of her fantasy. Coming to her senses, she scrambled to her feet and ran for the closing doors. Too late – the train started moving again.
What the …?!!! Oh my God!!! Seriously?
Abbi frantically looked around.
Well, that’s just great! Arrgghhh.
She had missed her stop. How could she have done that?

Abbi let out a heavy sigh and sat back down. She looked up at the row of seats; the man was nowhere to be seen. A ghost of a smile flickered across her mouth
. Now he is definitely worth being late for!

Abbi finally made it to work. She was only about an hour late, which Abbi didn’t think was too bad but Celia, her mother, didn’t seem to share her view.

‘Busy morning?’ Celia asked, with a hint of sarcasm as Abbi entered her office.

‘You have no idea,’ Abbi said. She wasn’t really comfortable just outright lying to her mother, but she was ok with keeping it generic. Really, what was she supposed to say?
Well, what happened was, I almost missed the train. But I didn’t. I made it by jumping into the arms of the most gorgeous man on the planet. I then spent the rest of the journey fantasising about all the things I wanted to do to him and all the things I hoped he would do to me. So I missed my stop. My bad.
Abbi laughed.

‘What’s so funny?’ Celia asked, looking up from her desk. She was a petite woman with blonde hair that was always stylishly cut short.

‘Nothing. I was just thinking about something Ben said this morning.’

‘Actually, speaking of Ben, why don’t you both come to dinner on Sunday? We haven’t seen him in ages. You can stay the weekend if you like.’

‘That would be great. I don’t know if Ben can get away for a weekend, but count us in for dinner though. Where’s Dad?’ asked Abbi looking around.

‘He stopped by to see Grandma on the way in. He should be here shortly.’

‘Is she alright?’ Abbi loved her grandmother dearly, and it seemed like every time she saw her lately, the poor heartbroken lady seemed older and slower.

‘Yes. Well, the same anyway. Your dad was getting her medication refilled and probably stayed to play Scrabble with her.’

Abbi’s family were game players, and Scrabble was right up there with Monopoly. As much as it embarrassed her, her grandmother could still whip her in Scrabble. But Abbi always won at Monopoly. Mostly because she was always the banker, and well, grandma didn’t always pay attention to her change.

‘I guess I’d better get on with some work,’ Abbi said.

She headed towards the back of the building where her little office was. Their antique shop consisted of two large rooms with a little office in the far back. There was the show room which had the floor displays, some ‘before and after’ examples, and also some pieces for sale. The adjoining room that was just partitioned off by a half wall was the back workroom. There was a desk and file cabinet for the paperwork and a table and chairs for eating lunch. The rest of the space was taken up with the tools, machines, work tables and other equipment needed to keep ‘Parsons’s Antique Restoration and Repair’ up and running. Off this back workroom was another small room that was Abbi’s office. She had a little bed and water bowl in there as well and called the space under the window, ‘Buddy’s Corner.’ Seeing the empty bed with his favourite stuffed animal, a chewed up floppy-eared rabbit, made her feel a little guilty for leaving him at home alone, but it was only the odd day or two she left him behind to go shopping. Her next door neighbour, who worked from home normally checked on Buddy and took him out for a walk. Abbi had tried once leaving him tied up outside the supermarket whilst she shopped but Buddy had become so distressed she swore blind she would never do it again.

Abbi put her jacket on the back of the chair and checked the phone messages her mother had left on her desk. Flipping through them, she saw that they were mostly from customers wanting estimates on various pieces they had or checking in on the status of current projects that Parsons’s was working on for them. Pretty much that was the part of the business that Abbi handled, the mundane customer relation side. As much as she would have enjoyed more hands on work, she was still learning, so as time allowed she would watch and work with her mother and father on that side of the job. She really did think her parents were enormously talented. She would see the broken down pieces of junk that people would bring in and weeks later leave with a piece that any fine home would be proud to have on display.

As she thought about this, she started to feel a little guilty about her morning on the train. She was a little surprised at herself as well. Why had she thought about another man in such an intimate way? Did everyone fantasise about having sex with someone other than their partner or was it just her? Abbi knew in the grand scheme of things she was a very lucky woman and shouldn’t be lacking in any area of her life. She had a wonderful loving family, a smart, hard-working fiancé who adored her, stability, and a dog who was probably right now trying to figure out how to get into the rubbish bag she forgot to put up on the worktop.
Damn it!
She already knew she was going home to a kitchen disaster. Oh well. If that was the worst thing that happened today, then it really was going to be okay. She heard the chime to the front door ring as someone entered the shop.

‘I’ve got it, Abbi,’ her mother called out.

Good
. Abbi liked to have a few minutes to herself before having to settle down to work. She poured herself a large cup of coffee from the coffee maker that she kept in her office, and decided to start the day by responding to some of the phone messages. The first customer she called didn’t answer so she left a message and was about to move on to the next one when her office door opened.

‘Hey, baby,’ Abbi’s Dad said peeking his head in her office. With a mop of thick dark curly hair, he had to bend his head a little as he was slightly taller than the door frame. It must have been him who came in the door.

‘Hi, Dad. How’s Grandma?’

‘Oh, she’s just fine. Beat me at Scrabble as usual so I know she’s doing okay despite her complaining.’ He grinned.

Abbi’s dad was always upbeat and easy-going. Her mother tended to be a little more of the worrier and fretter of the two, but Abbi had never heard her parents have really cross words with one another. They were still affectionate, still went to the cinema, and took walks in the park. They were a comfortable and happy couple.

Abbi laughed. ‘Glad to hear it.’

‘I can see you’re busy so I’ll let you get on. See you later.’

‘Okay.’

Abbi dialed the next number and was in the middle of a conversation with Mrs. Springer, who wanted confirmation that her ‘priceless Victorian chest’ would be ready for delivery on Thursday, when her mum came in and sat down in front of Abbi’s desk. For the eighth time, Abbi patiently assured Mrs. Springer the piece was ready and being wrapped for delivery. Abbi pretty much had her customer speeches memorised. Her mother was listening to her and laughing at Abbi as she rolled her eyes, and Abbi was doing her best to ignore her mother so she would not start laughing too. Mrs. Springer was one of the original Parsons’s clients, and had spent a good deal of money with them, not to mention her referrals. Abbi certainly did not want to offend her, but she sure did fret over her old furniture. Mrs. Springer was reassured, thanked Abbi again for the tenth time and hung up. Abbi sighed in relief.

‘Are you ready to go?’ Celia asked.

‘Um…go where?’

‘To go see Mr.
Worthington
?’

Abbi stared at her mother, desperate to remember what in the world she was talking about.

‘Taylor
Worthington
, the accountant? Remember? We talked about this last week, Abbi.’

‘Oh, Yes! I remember!’ exclaimed Abbi. ‘Sorry about that, wow. Maybe Grandma will share some of her memory pills with me.’

Last week, Abbi’s mother had told Abbi that their accountant, Mr. Roberts, had informed her that there was an anomaly with the books. The invoices and end of month balance statements from three of their franchises had shown discrepancies for three months in a row. He had tried to trace where the money had gone but had no luck.

Kenneth and Celia Parsons’s were not business people or accountants. They just loved working on old furniture and restoring pieces to their former original state and listening to the old family stories that the owners inevitably had to share. Abbi had taken a look for herself and after poring over the books as best she could, after two weeks and three bottles of aspirin she still couldn’t make heads nor tails of it.

‘I don’t want to be wrong, Abbi, and make a false accusation,’ Celia had said when she first told Abbi the news, ‘but if someone is stealing from us, well we can’t have that, can we?’

Abbi had totally agreed and that’s when she suggested Celia find a forensic accountant who would be able to get to the bottom of it. Abbi also remembered she said   she would go with her mum to the accountant and help liaise with him or her over this project. That kind of job fell under Abbi’s job description if she had one anyway.

‘Are we going now?’

‘Yes, if you’re ready. His office is only ten minutes away so I thought we could walk. Maybe grab some sandwiches for lunch on the way back?’

‘Sounds good.’

Celia had a folder containing the invoices for Mr. Worthington, and if he ended up taking the job, Tyler, their part-time delivery boy, was going to haul the rest of the boxes of invoices and records over later that afternoon. The sooner this situation was dealt with the better it would be for all parties concerned. Suspecting you had a fraudster working with you was not the best feeling in the world.
Who on earth would do such a thing?