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with that redhead. She rolled over and thumped the pillows violently, burying her
hot face in them.
Just before she finally fell asleep, she had a deliriously satisfying fantasy in which
McCallum broke his arm and Abby nursed him back to health after which he
confessed his passionate love for her. The thought caused a vivid dream from which
she woke in a flushed daze.
* * *
The alarm clock was buzzing noisily when she opened her eyes and flung out a
drowsy hand to shut it off. She felt as if she'd hardly slept at all, and the first
thought she had was that McCallum might not have come home at all.
She felt a kindling rage like nothing she'd experienced before as she jumped out of
bed, not even pausing long enough to sling on a robe as she padded over the carpet
to the door and opened it angrily. Down the hall in the kitchen, there were rattling
sounds and soft humming, which meant that Mrs. McDougal was already getting
breakfast. Was McCallum home or not?
Abby went across the hall to the master bedroom and opened the door with a
savage jerk. Philandering, miserable . . . She froze in the doorway. McCallum was
home all right. Her wide eyes locked onto his big, masculine body sprawled
completely naked and sound asleep on the cover of the bed.
CHAPTER SIX
It certainly wasn't the first time Abby had seen a man without clothes. But her
memory of Gene's lean pale body was no match for what she saw on the silky
chocolate bedspread in front of her stunned eyes.
McCallum was solid muscle, from the tips of his toes all the way up, broad hair-
roughened thighs, lean hips, massive hairy chest, powerful arms . . . he was tan all
over too, as if he spent his vacations sunbathing in the nude on those French
beaches he favored. If a man could be called beautiful, he was; a candidate for a
centerfold if ever there was one.
After a minute, she managed to drag her eyes away from his blatant masculinity and
turned to leave the room. On her way out, his hastily discarded shirt caught her
eye. It was lying on top of his trousers in a chair, its spotless white front smeared
from the second button to the collar with pale orange lipstick. That shade was
instantly recognizable to Abby. She'd noticed distastefully how caked Vinnie
Nichols's wide mouth always was with it.
So that was where he'd been, she thought venomously. She gave his sleeping body
one last, furious glance before she closed the door on the sight of him.
She was more composed when she went to have breakfast, wearing a becoming blue-
green dress that was high collared and beautifully pleated from shoulder to waist.
It flattered her small waist and her firm, high breasts. She set it off with black
slingback shoes and a matching leather purse. And her green eyes were greener
than burning emeralds under the frown she couldn't help.
"I'll have to go and wake Mr. McCallum," Mrs. McDougal sighed, noticing the time.
"Or he'll never get to work on time."
"Uh, you needn't bother," Abby said quickly, remembering the sight of him. "He had
a late night last night, and the sleep will do him good." She grinned at the thought
of her punctual employer arriving late; it would shock old George, and Jan would
giggle. . . . She flushed, remembering what they were sure to think, and it wouldn't
be only McCallum they'd be giggling at. But she couldn't wake him up he'd still
been out when she dropped off around one thirty, which meant he'd surely only had
a few hours of sleep. She grimaced. There was nothing to do but let him sleep. She
wondered why he hadn't just spent the night with Vinnie. Perhaps he'd been hoping
that Abby would be sitting in the apartment, getting more jealous by the minute.
And, of course, she had. But McCallum wasn't going to have the satisfaction of
knowing that. No, sir.
"Are you sure he won't awaken roaring around and mad enough to fire me?" Mrs.
McDougal laughed. "Oh, he's got a temper on him, that one."
"Just speak in a soft voice, don't show fear, and don't make any sudden moves,"
Abby instructed. "It works every time."
Mrs. McDougal watched the younger woman finish half a piece of toast and wash it
down with black coffee. "Now that's a masterly bit of advice. May I ask where you
learned it?"
Abby grinned at her. "I read an article once about what to do if you were ever
confronted with an attack dog."
Mrs. McDougal went back into the kitchen, laughing so hard that tears streamed
down her cheeks.
Abby's bus was five minutes late, and when she walked into the office, Jan was
sitting on the edge of Abby's desk chewing a fingernail into shreds.
"Oh, thank goodness you're here!" the petite blonde sighed. "Abby, where's Mr.
McCallum?" she added, staring around her friend as if she might be concealing the
attorney behind her.
"At home asleep," Abby said shortly. "Why?"
Jan started to say something, but closed her mouth quickly at the expression on
the taller woman's face. "It's that divorce case Jerry was handling," she explained.
"He's got one and Mr. McCallum has one he's handling as a favor to one of his
friends, remember?"
"How could I forget?" Abby groaned. "That wailing woman has caused me grief in
the middle of preparations for that murder trial. I've had to wipe away tears and
listen to her on the phone, and track down McCallum at all hours of the day . . .
anyway, what's wrong?"
Jan looked toward the ceiling. "Jerry called and left word for McCallum's client to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]