The Abby Green Modern Collection - Эбби Грин Mills & Boon e-Book Collections

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no heed, his drink sloshing over the side of his glass in his obviously inebriated state. ‘…apparently the man had mistresses in every city and he was a violent bastard—’

      Caleb had turned to walk away, but stopped in his tracks.

      ‘…terrorised his poor wife for years. The police were called once but of course it all got hushed up…he greased their palms to keep it quiet. Didn’t he have a daughter too? I think they said she was the one who called the cops…never saw her but heard she was a little siren—’

      Caleb had the other man up against a wall so fast his drink smashed to the ground.

      ‘What did you say…?’

      ‘Cameron, what the devil is wrong with you?’ the other man blustered.

      Caleb let him go abruptly and strode out of the room, cutting a swathe through the crowd, who watched in stunned silence.

      On the basis of those few words, which rang so true it hurt, Caleb knew that he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life. And he couldn’t stop the rising tide of panic that gripped him.

      His heart rate was doing triple time.

      It couldn’t be possible. She could have told me…Why wouldn’t she have told me?

      The world seemed to tilt crazily as he stood on the steps outside. The past two months ran in his head like a bad horror movie. The signs and clues had been there every step of the way, so obvious…and he had ignored them all. How had he been such a fool? How had he been so blind? Had he really let himself become so cynical and jaded and downright mistrustful that he didn’t even recognise a true gem when it was right in front of him?

      Like a rock hitting a still, perfect lake and the ripples spreading outwards, everything was so clear in his head now that he felt sick to his stomach. And more terrified than he’d ever felt in his life. This was it. And he’d thrown it away. He’d thrown Maggie away. Her words came back into his head with sickening clarity. He could even remember the look on her face. She had wanted nothing more than to get away from him so fast…

      I never want to see you again.

      Harsh lines transformed his face into a mask of haunted pain as he grabbed his car keys from the valet stepping out and took off as though he had a death wish.

      Maggie stood at the edge of the water and watched how the spray came in and rushed back, taking the imprint of her feet with it. They sank a little more. She wished she could sink all the way, her whole body submerged in dark bliss where she wouldn’t ever have to think or feel again. She gave herself a mental shake and stepped back out of the oncoming waves.

      She looked around. Sheer isolation. A huge beach with acres of empty sand. Bordered by green cliffs on all sides, it was in the furthermost reaches of western Ireland. And it was empty because of a freak summer storm that had blown in for the last two days. The crowds hadn’t yet returned but already she could see a figure in the distance, way ahead, near the tiny cottage a family friend had lent her for a few days. Her blessed peace would be gone soon.

      She looked back out to the sea and breathed in deeply. She was free. Really free for the first time in her life. So why did she feel as though she were still in prison? It was her heart—her heart was in the prison, not her. And she would just have to learn to live with it. In time…she knew the pain would fade, become less.

      She turned and walked back in the direction she’d come, hands in the pockets of a light fleece zipped up against the strong breeze, her jeans rolled up to her knees. There was still just that one figure in the distance, far too far away for Maggie to be able to make out if it were a man or a woman. She emptied her mind and looked down, stopping to pick up shells or stones along the way.

      After walking for quite a bit, she could make out that it was a man. A tall man. With dark hair. In a T-shirt and jeans. Even from here, she could see a well-built physique. Her heart twisted painfully. What demon god was sending her a look-alike to test her heart? She drew nearer and nearer—could make out more detail. Thick, dark hair—swept off a high forehead, by the looks of it. Broad shoulders. He was looking out to sea and then he turned around. Maggie stopped. Blood rushed to her head, pounded in her ears, drowning out the crashing waves. It couldn’t be.

      But it was. Every cell in her body told her that it was. Caleb. Just metres away. She shook her head as if to clear the image, but he didn’t disappear. He was coming towards her. That struck her into action. She could see the cottage on the bluff just behind him and made a diagonal path away from where he was walking, towards home. She could see from the corner of her eye that he too had changed direction, heading straight for her. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t feel. One foot in front of the other, until she was behind the door. And safe.

      ‘Maggie.’

      She ignored his call, walking faster, desperation making it hard to breathe.

      ‘Maggie.’ He was much closer, his long strides effortlessly catching up with hers.

      She started a small jog and then felt herself caught and whirled around. She looked up, stunned, into Caleb’s face. The shells and stones dropped unnoticed on to the sand.

      ‘Maggie. Please don’t run away from me. We have to talk.’

      She laughed. ‘Talk? Caleb, I told you I never wanted to see you again, and I certainly don’t now.’ She pulled away and started to walk up the hill. Focus on the house, focus on the house.

      ‘Maggie. Please.’ He was close behind her. ‘You once came to me to beg me to listen to you for five minutes. That’s all I’m asking now. Please.’

      She stopped and had to shut her eyes at the memories. Pain lancing through her. This would kill her. But damned if he’d know it. She didn’t turn around. ‘Five minutes.’

      She went into the house through the back door. Not even bothering to hold it open for him.

      In the small kitchen she turned around to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. Her heart was beating way too fast for what she had just done. Her hair was windblown, face pink from the wind. And she looked more beautiful than he’d ever seen her. And never more distant.

      She was pointedly focusing on a point over his shoulder. ‘Well? The clock is ticking.’

      ‘Maggie…I’m sorry…’

      She looked at him aghast, her mouth dropping open. ‘Sorry? What on earth do you have to be sorry for, Caleb? I got what I wanted; you got what you wanted…’

      He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes and she noticed lines around his mouth, smudges of dark colour under his eyes. ‘I didn’t get you, Maggie, not really. And I still want you.’

      She frowned, suddenly feeling a little adrift, wanting to know what he meant but not wanting to ask.

      He raked a hand through his hair and looked out to the tumultuous Atlantic for a minute.

      ‘Caleb—’

      He looked back, blue eyes vivid. ‘I know, I know—the time…God, this is hard.’

      Her heart squeezed crazily and she tightened her arms as if to stop it.

      ‘I think I know what happened…that night, eight months ago. Someone said something in London and everything dropped into place…’

      Maggie felt a sudden fear. ‘Did you go to my mother to find out where I was?’

      He nodded.

      ‘Did you say anything to her…?’ Her breasts rose and fell in her agitation. ‘Did you—?’

      Caleb put out a hand, coming a step closer. Maggie moved away. ‘No! No, Maggie…I could have asked her, but I didn’t need to. I know. I just want to hear it from you.’

      ‘Know what, Caleb? Time is really running out—’

      He took a deep breath. ‘Eight months ago you seduced me

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