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Ruthless Contract. Kathryn RossЧитать онлайн книгу.

Ruthless Contract - Kathryn  Ross


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about something.’ She got out of the car and their eyes met across its roof.

      ‘Are we?’ he asked stonily, a dark brooding expression on his lean features.

      What was that supposed to mean? she wondered angrily as she waited for him to get her luggage from the trunk of the car. Did he think she didn’t care about her own sister’s children?

      She restrained herself from demanding to know what he was implying. The less she spoke to Greg the better, she decided firmly. She was going to have to tread very warily around him and it didn’t help to descend to personal levels.

      She followed him towards the elevator and they travelled upwards in silence for a moment. ‘Will the children be awake?’ she asked at last, as curiosity overtook her.

      ‘They shouldn’t be.’ Greg glanced at his watch. ‘They are usually in bed by seven in the evening, but then again, neither has been sleeping well and they are excited about your arrival.’

      When the doors of the elevator opened Greg led her into the type of penthouse apartment that she had only ever seen in top, glossy magazines. Its opulence and its beauty took her breath away.

      The lounge was decorated in shades of gold and white; it was modern in design and very large, with a black wrought-iron spiral staircase curving down into one corner. The views from the windows were spectacular.

      New York was spread in front of her in glittering array. It was just starting to get dark; the sky had turned to a dusky lilac colour and the skyscrapers were dotted with lights like huge Christmas trees illuminated against the sky.

      ‘Make yourself at home.’ Greg waved her towards a white leather settee. ‘I’ll just go and find out where everyone is.’

      He didn’t have to move far. He had only taken a step towards a door at the far end of the room when it burst open, and two little five-year-olds flung themselves into Abigail’s arms.

      ‘Aunty Abbie, it’s been awful,’ Rachel sobbed as she was held tightly against Abbie. ‘Mummy and Daddy aren’t coming home any more.’

      Abbie met Greg’s eyes across the room, and she was glad of the semi-darkness of the room so that he couldn’t see the sudden tears that shimmered in her eyes.

      She crouched lower down and held the girls as if she would never let them go. ‘It’s going to be all right,’ she whispered as she kissed both of them. ‘Everything is going to be all right.’

      It was a moment before she noticed that Greg’s mother was standing in the doorway watching them. ‘Hello, Margaret.’ Slowly she straightened.

      ‘Abbie.’ The older woman came forward and Abbie was shocked to see how she had aged since she had last seen her. Her brown hair was peppered with grey, and her face seemed hollow somehow, her eyes filled with a deep sadness that just tore at Abigail’s heart.

      ‘I’m so sorry, Margaret.’ Impulsively Abigail moved to embrace the other woman and for a while they just clung to each other in silent grief.

      ‘Come on, you two.’ Greg’s voice cut into the atmosphere. ‘Let’s lighten things up a bit.’ He strolled across and picked up the twins, one in each arm, as effortlessly as if they were mere babies instead of two sturdy children. ‘For a start-off, you should be in bed. Maybe if you ask Aunty Abbie very nicely, she will come and tuck you in.’

      Abbie nodded as the two children looked over at her expectantly.

      ‘Good—now kiss Grandma goodnight and let’s go.’

      He carried them across and they dutifully kissed their grandmother and wished her goodnight.

      ‘Poor little things,’ Margaret whispered in a broken voice as Greg carried them out. ‘I still can’t believe it.’

      Abigail swallowed hard. ‘Greg tells me the funeral is tomorrow?’

      Margaret nodded and led the way over to sit down on the settee. ‘I think we will all feel better when that is over with.’

      ‘Yes. I suppose so.’ Privately Abigail wondered if she would ever feel all right again. Although it was a year since she had last seen her sister, she had always been in close contact with her. Her death would leave a terrible void in her life.

      Margaret sighed. ‘Well, it’s good to see you again, Abigail,’ she said warmly. ‘Even if it is in such terrible circumstances.’

      ‘I just wish I had come over sooner,’ Abigail murmured. ‘What happened, Margaret? I didn’t even know Jenny and Mike were planning a holiday.’

      ‘It was a spur of the moment thing.’ Margaret seemed to pull herself together with a tremendous effort. ‘It was a weekend break put on by Mike’s boss. They weren’t going to go only…I offered to look after the girls for them.’ For a moment the woman’s voice cracked. ‘To be honest, Abbie, I can’t help blaming myself. If I hadn’t insisted…If only I—’

      ‘Come on, Mother.’ Greg’s deep voice interrupted the conversation as he came back into the room. ‘We’ve been over and over this. You are not to blame. How on earth could you possibly have known that there would be such a terrible car accident?’

      He squeezed his mother’s shoulder on the way past towards the drinks cabinet. ‘Now, how about a stiff drink?’ he asked, as he pulled down the cabinet at the other side of the room.

      ‘Not for me.’ Margaret shook her head, then looked over at Abbie. ‘Are you hungry, dear? Shall I make you something to eat?’

      Abbie shook her head. ‘Thank you, Margaret, but I had something on the plane.’ In actual fact she had barely touched any of the meals on the plane. She seemed to have lost all interest in food recently, and it was starting to show on her already slender figure. ‘I’ll have a drink, though,’ she said, looking over at Greg. ‘Brandy, if you have it.’

      ‘I’ll make some coffee to go with that.’ Margaret got to her feet.

      ‘No, really, Margaret…please don’t go to that trouble. I’m fine.’

      ‘Well, if you are sure…’ She hesitated and looked at Abbie guiltily. ‘Would you think I was very rude if I said I wanted to turn in for the night, Abbie? I’m just exhausted—it’s all these early mornings with the girls.’

      ‘No, of course not.’ Abbie stood up quickly and kissed Margaret’s cheek. ‘You go and lie down and don’t worry about the girls in the morning. I’ll see to them.’

      Margaret nodded gratefully and, with a smile at Greg, she left the room.

      Silence descended on the room after she had left.

      Abigail glanced at her watch. ‘I’ll just pop in and say goodnight to the girls,’ she murmured. ‘Which is their room, Greg?’

      He walked across and put her drink on the coffeetable. ‘Second door on the right. Try not to wake them if they are asleep.’

      Abigail glared at the man. ‘Of course I won’t wake them.’ Annoyed at his suggestion, she rose stiffly to her feet without thanking him for the drink and left the room. It was clear Greg thought she was as useful around children as a chocolate teapot.

      The girls occupied a pretty twin-bedded room. Obviously every effort had been made to make them feel at home, because lots of their toys lined the shelves and a large dolls’ house occupied an enviable position by the window, looking out over the lights of the city.

      A small night-light sent a warm pink glow over the satin covers of the beds and lent a hint of warmth to the children’s skin.

      They were nearly asleep, their eyes sleepily drifting as they struggled to stay awake for her.

      Abbie sat on the edge of Rachel’s bed and bent to kiss her cheek. ‘All right, darling?’ she whispered softly.

      The little girl nodded. ‘We are now,’ she said in


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