‘If you’re not careful,’ he warned, ‘you’ll turn into an embittered old spinster. And that would be a terrible shame for someone as—’ he reached out and stroked the back of a finger down her cheek ‘—beautiful as you.’ His tone had gone an octave lower, to a deeply sensual growl that shivered through Abby’s bloodstream.
She jerked her head away, but not soon enough, not before she had felt the searing heat of his fingers. Lord help her if this was going to happen each time they met! ‘Please get out of my office,’ she said through gritted teeth.
A disturbing smile flickered at the corners of his sensual mouth and he did not move an inch. ‘Maybe,’ he muttered, ‘it would be interesting to find out exactly what makes you tick.’
Abby stiffened and glared, desperately wishing that she had never been approached to take Greg’s case. When fathers attended with their sons they did not normally take over as this man was doing, and certainly none of them had ever affected her pulse rate!
‘You’re an intriguing female, Sommers.’ The deep, sexy growl was still there, at complete odds with the harsh tones he had used earlier. ‘I shall look forward to our next meeting.’ And with that, both to her surprise and her intense relief, Hallam Lane finally moved, finally opened the door, leaving Abby with an oddly beating heart and a sense of total confusion.
Greg looked as bewildered as she felt when his father led him away, and in the days that followed she pondered over this older Lane who had got through to her as no one else ever had, and who seemed to find a great deal of pleasure in taunting her.
As a consequence she was discovering a sensual side to her nature that had not seen the light of day since her first, exploratory relationships before she had qualified as a solicitor. And her feelings then had certainly been nothing like this!
It was a worrying reaction under the circumstances, and if there had been a way out of going to his house she would have taken it. She had a sneaky feeling that Hallam Lane would not leave her and Greg alone, even though he had promised.
On Friday Abby was in court; it was a trying and tiring day and she would have given anything to be able to spend the evening relaxing alone. She felt drained and washed out and not in the least like another confrontation.
Nevertheless, at five minutes to the appointed hour she halted her car outside the wrought-iron gates. A camera, which she had not noticed before, detected her presence and the gates were opened, presumably by Hallam Lane from inside the house. On her previous visit she had been compelled to announce her presence through an intercom system set into the wall next to the gates.
She drew her Rover to a halt in front of the magnificent red brick mansion that must have cost a fortune, and turned off the ignition. But before she could open the door Hallam Lane was doing it for her.
He had appeared out of nowhere and she looked at him in shocked surprise; then as she met the piercing blackness of his eyes Abby felt a further unexpected and unwanted jolt to her senses.
‘You’re on time. Good—I like that.’ He was dressed casually this evening in a pale blue knitted silk shirt, open-necked and short-sleeved, with a pair of darker blue linen trousers. It was the first time Abby had seen him in anything other than dark colours and she thought how well the blue suited him. In fact he looked even more breathtaking than before and she knew it was going to be a difficult evening.
Abby herself had chosen to wear a chocolate-brown skirt and jacket with a cream blouse—very plain and very businesslike—her hair pinned on top of her head, no make-up at all on her face. She did not feel very comfortable; she never did when she wore such sombre clothes—they were so much against her nature—but she had not wanted Hallam Lane to get any more wrong ideas.
It was unfortunate that her skirt rode up over her knees as she climbed out and typical of Hallam Lane not to miss a thing. In fact his eyes stayed on her legs for far longer than was necessary, and when Abby bent inside to retrieve her briefcase she knew that he was studying her posterior.
His bold inspection sent her temperature soaring, and, as if in denial of the heated feelings that ran through her, Abby held her head that little bit higher as she accompanied him into the house.
He led her through to the same pleasant sitting-room that overlooked the expertly landscaped grounds at the back—and there was no sign of the younger Lane. She presumed he would be joining them shortly.
‘A drink, Sommers?’ he asked, indicating with a movement of his hand that she should sit on one of the linen-covered armchairs near the French windows.
She shook her head. ‘No, thanks.’
‘Of course,’ came the mocking response as he poured himself a generous measure of Scotch. ‘I’d forgotten you were an abstainer.’
Abby doubted it; he struck her as the type of man who forgot nothing. ‘Where’s Greg?’ she asked. She had no intention of sitting around wasting time when there was work to be done.
‘He’ll be joining us later.’ Hallam Lane moved over to the white marble fireplace, where he rested his elbow on the mantelpiece and surveyed her indolently.
‘Later?’ Abby questioned with a frown, at the same time registering the way his close-fitting trousers hid none of the muscular strength of his thighs. He had to be the most potent male specimen she had ever seen, and it took her a second or two to drag her eyes back to his face and remember what they were talking about. ‘What do you mean, later?’ she questioned, her eyes sparking with irritation. ‘Our appointment was for eight.’
‘He’s been detained.’ There was curious pleasure in Hallam’s voice as he made his announcement, and his dark eyes were watchful on hers, registering every change in her expression.
‘I don’t believe you.’ Abby jumped up and crossed the room to face him. ‘If Greg’s not here then there’s no point in my staying.’
A secret smile played about his generous lips. ‘I thought we could spend a little while getting to—know each other,’ he said softly, an innuendo in his tone that was distinctly disturbing.
‘Then you thought wrong,’ she retorted firmly. ‘I have much better things I could do with my time than make small talk with you.’
He took a slow sip of the amber liquid, watching her closely as he did so, an enigmatic expression narrowing his beautiful dark eyes. ‘I’d like to talk about you. I’m curious as to why you chose law as a profession. With your looks and figure I would have thought you’d choose something more glamorous.’
Abby looked at him cool and hard. ‘The answer’s easy: I’m following in my father’s footsteps.’ When her parent had had a sudden and fatal heart attack a few years ago it had devastated her, her mother also, and they had consoled each other as best they could. Now her mother had a new boyfriend and she had her career and a place of her own. She was quite content.
‘And you’re happy without a man in your life?’ There was a deliberate lift to his brows. ‘Or is there someone? You see, I know so little about you.’
‘My private life’s private, and that’s the way I’d like it to stay,’ retorted Abby sharply. She had no intention of discussing her personal life with this man. ‘I’m here to find out about your son, not for you to find out about me,’ she told him. ‘How long is he
