enigmatic character. On top of that, you’ve never resorted to the manipulative ploys an attractive female in your position might be tempted to use. But, no... you don’t have to worry about fighting me off. Rape has never appealed to me, and seducing you is not part of my plan.’
‘What plan?’ Abby just had to say, not believing his back-handed compliments for one moment. He despised her for some reason, and had never bothered to hide that fact. Maybe he despised all females with a bust size over AA?
‘That, my dear Abigail,’ he drawled, ‘is none of your business.’
And that, my dear Doctor, is an evasion.
But she didn’t say it. It really wasn’t a wise course of action to persist, not if she wanted that three thousand dollars.
‘Fair enough, Doctor. You can keep your little secret.’
‘Ethan.’
‘What?’
‘Call me Ethan.’
‘Oh... oh, yes, I suppose I’ll have to. I hope I’ll remember.’
‘Have a practice right now, then. Say yes, Ethan. No, Ethan. Three bags full, Ethan.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘Say it,’ he bit out.
Abby quivered deep inside at his darkly forceful tone.
‘Y-yes, Ethan,’ she started hesitantly. Then, ‘No, Ethan,’ much more firmly, followed by, ‘Three bags full, Ethan,’ in a dry, challenging tone.
‘See?’ he scorned. ‘You didn’t have any trouble at all. Though perhaps you could practise putting a little more warmth into my name between now and Friday. Say it the way you just did in the presence of others and they’ll think you want to kill me, not kiss me.’
Well, they’d be wrong, she thought ruefully. She wanted to do both. Kill him and kiss him. Damn, but she was actually enjoying sparring with him this way. It had a decidedly sexual edge to it. Abby was hotly aware that her pulse had started racing and that her cheeks were quite flushed with an unbidden excitement. Thank the Lord they were on the phone and be couldn’t see her.
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ she said, surprised by her cool tone. Heavens, she was a much better actress than she’d realised. Who knew? Maybe she might just be able to pull this fiasco off without getting her fingers burnt. If she started getting too hot and bothered over the sexy surgeon, she would simply remember Dillon. Thinking of that bastard always had a chilling effect. If that failed, she would concentrate on a simple survival. Now that she’d lost her weekend job, she needed her Friday job more than ever.
‘Tell me the agenda for Friday,’ she said in a businesslike tone. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘We’re supposed to arrive at Bungarla some time between three and five. I’m still operating on the Friday morning, and I do have a patient who’s travelling down from the country to see me that day as well. I told her to meet me at my rooms at one.’
‘Do you want me to come in as usual, then?’
‘No. That’s not necessary. Be at the surgery by one-thirty. I should be finished by then. I’m told the trip down to Bungarla shouldn’t take any more than two hours.’
‘What do you think I should wear for the trip down?’
‘Something casual, but smart. It’ll be pretty cool down that way of an evening in the autumn, so pop in a jacket as well. And don’t forget to pack suitable clothes for tennis and golf. Oh, and throw in a swimsuit. According to the brochure they sent, there’s a heated pool.’
‘Yes, boss.’
‘Don’t be cheeky.’
She’d be more than cheeky if she went swimming wearing the bikini Dillon had picked out for her five years ago. Abby had gone up a size since then, especially in her bust. It must have been all that lovely fatty prison food. Or the free doughnuts and cappuccinos she’d been stuffing herself with every weekend at the café, so that she didn’t have to spend so much money on food.
She would literally have to starve herself between now and Friday if she wanted her old clothes to fit her properly, but at least she’d already made a good start. She hadn’t eaten a darned thing all day!
‘Abigail?’
‘Yes?’
‘Oh, nothing. Is there anything else you want to ask?’
‘Do you have my address to send the money to tomorrow?’
His sigh sounded irritable. ‘I’m glad you’ve still got your priorities right. Yes, I have your address. You’ll have the money, in cash, by three at the latest. Is that satisfactory?’
‘Quite.’
‘And I’ll expect my money’s worth in return.’
‘You’ll get what you paid for. And nothing more.’
‘I’m glad to hear that, Abigail,’ he drawled. ‘Because that’s exactly what I am paying for. Nothing more. No complications and no consequences. See you Friday. And don’t be late!’ he snapped, then hung up.
Abby glared down into the dead receiver, her heart thudding angrily. At least, she hoped that it was with anger. Friday seemed a long way off, but it would come round all too quickly, she feared.
It did, dawning cool and sunny, a beautiful autumn day. The week, which usually dragged when she spent it searching fruitlessly for a full-time job, had simply flown. Any spare minute had been taken up with alterations to her clothes. Hems had been taken up or down, and seams let out where possible.
‘Tell me again the name of the place you’re off to, dear?’ Miss Blanchford asked as she watched Abby packing the freshly washed and pressed garments.
‘Bungarla,’ she replied, smiling as the old lady manoeuvred the chair closer with a small movement of the joy-stick-style steering. In just two short days she’d become a real expert, whizzing up and down the hallway and rarely bumping into anyone any more. Seeing her so happy made the sacrifice of the coming weekend worthwhile. ‘It’s a private hotel just outside of Bowral.’
‘And what exactly is it you have to do there?’
Abby swallowed. ‘Just secretarial work. Dr Grant wants me to take notes on all the lectures he’ll be attending.’ No way could she tell the old darling the truth. She would simply die, then demand that Abby give Ethan back the money and not go. Which would be a little difficult when it was already in the wheelchair company’s bank account.
‘And you need all these lovely clothes just for that?’ came her frowning enquiry.
Abby tried not to look guilty. She laughed, and hoped that it didn’t sound too false. ‘No, of course not. There will be some socialising in the evenings. You wouldn’t want me to look dowdy in front of all those high-flying doctors and their wives, would you?’
