Pets? Damn. That was really scraping the barrel, especially since the only pets he knew of were the flock of hens his father had given his mother on their last wedding anniversary.
Although, hang on...
Wait one tiny little moment...
Leo froze, mid pace, backtracking frantically and zooming in on the thought dancing around in the shadows of his mind.
Hadn’t the hens arrived in spring? Therefore, wasn’t his parents’ anniversary coming up some time soon? March? April, maybe? And hadn’t there been thirty-nine of the flapping, clucking things?
With his heart going like a steam train and his brain spinning like a top, he did the calculations and punched the air in relief and triumph because...yes, this spring, his parents had been married forty unimaginably long but presumably happy years.
Heaven only knew how they’d done it—he’d fallen before the first hurdle, namely the church, and had no intention of ever going remotely near an altar again—but nevertheless, halle-bloody-lujah, because if forty years of marriage weren’t worth celebrating, weren’t worth the kind of party that needed an organiser, then he didn’t know what was.
* * *
Deciding that Leo wasn’t the man for her was all very well in theory and all very logical and rational and satisfyingly sensible but unfortunately Abby’s body wasn’t having any of it.
No. Her body, treacherous being that it was, remembered with unforgiving clarity exactly what she and Leo done together and how fantastic he’d made her feel, and was demanding more.
It didn’t matter that they hadn’t touched, that he’d barely looked at her since she’d walked through the door. Just one look at him and she’d wanted to march right up to him and kiss him senseless.
So much for the pep talk she’d given herself on the drive over, during which she’d told herself to focus on business at all times. And so much for the assumption that the chemistry that had surged between them on Friday night had been nothing more than a blip, brought on by fatigue, adrenalin and the thrill of success. She’d underestimated the force of his presence and the efficiency of her memory. Big time.
But it would be fine, she’d told herself, removing her coat and hanging it up then taking the seat he’d indicated. It had to be. In well-worn jeans, white shirt and chocolate-brown jacket and leaning back against the edge of his desk, he might be looking unbelievably sexy but that wasn’t important.
This afternoon wasn’t about contemplating a repeat of Friday night, however tempting it was to leap up, push him back over his desk and climb on top of him. This was all about business, and it was high time she channelled the professional he was expecting instead of the seductress he surely wasn’t.
Ruthlessly stamping out the desire simmering away deep inside her and reminding herself that whatever had gone on between them before it was over and Leo was now nothing more than a potential client, she gave herself a quick shake, plastered a bright smile to her face and was just trying to think of something to break the oddly unnerving silence when he spoke.
‘Thank you for giving up your Sunday afternoon to meet me,’ he said. ‘I appreciate it.’
‘No problem,’ said Abby with a polite smile since politeness was obviously the way this afternoon was going to go. ‘On the phone you said you had business to discuss so what can I do for you, Mr Cartwright?’
She thought she caught a flicker of something in his eyes and a slight tightening of his jaw but both were so fleeting that she figured she must have been imagining things.
‘Mr Cartwright?’ he echoed, his eyebrows lifting although his expression and eyes remained inscrutable in a way that she was beginning to recognise.
‘This is business.’
‘Nevertheless, it’s a bit late for such formality, don’t you think?’ he said, his gaze skating over her for a second and igniting the heat she’d been doing so well to bank. ‘Especially given how well we know each other.’
Abby set her jaw and concentrated on not thinking about how well they knew each other, carnally at least, because she really wasn’t going there again, not physically, not even mentally. ‘Whatever you say. Leo.’
He tilted his head and smiled faintly at her. ‘Abby,’ he said, and despite her best intentions she immediately thought of the way he’d growled her name in her ear while buried deep inside her.
‘So?’ she said, lifting her chin and determinedly blocking it out.
‘I’d like you to sort something out for my parents’ fortieth wedding anniversary.’
Oh. For some reason, Abby was taken aback. She hadn’t been expecting something social. She’d been thinking corporate. She really didn’t know why. Maybe it was that he seemed so remote and so icy cool she couldn’t imagine him having friends and enjoying himself. She certainly couldn’t imagine him having parents.
‘Well?’ he prompted. ‘Would that be something you could do?’
Abby snapped back and pulled herself together. ‘Yes, of course,’ she said smoothly, and took her book out of her handbag.
‘No iPad?’ he asked, sounding a bit surprised.
‘Not for this. Pen and paper don’t let you down and I can doodle and make notes to my heart’s content.’ She opened her book on a new page, her pen poised. ‘Now, what were you thinking?’