Ungentlemanly Behaviour

He smiled—a highly dangerous smile—appearing not in the least perturbed by her harsh words. ‘Just remember,’ he warned, a steely glint now in his eyes, ‘I want no sentence passed against my son.’

She looked at him coolly and disdainfully. ‘It depends whether he is innocent, Mr Lane.’

‘It is up to you to prove that he is,’ he reminded her tersely.

‘Is it your good name you’re thinking of?’ Abby knew she was dicing with danger but restraint had long since flown out of the window where this man was concerned.

Black eyes glittered. ‘Just do the job you’re getting paid for.’ Then he yanked the door open and motioned his son to enter. Greg glanced from one to the other and it was obvious by his worried expression that he had heard their raised voices. ‘I’ll see you later, son,’ Hallam growled as he brushed past him and left the office.

Abby could have done with a few moments to pull herself together before talking to Greg.

‘It sounded as though my father was very angry,’ said the young man quietly.

She grimaced. ‘He was.’

‘He hasn’t changed his mind about—?’

‘Of course not,’ she assured him hastily.

‘Then what—?’

Again she interrupted. ‘It doesn’t matter, Greg.’ Her tone was soft and friendly, her eyes warm. She was in control of herself again. ‘Sit down. We have a lot of talking to do.’

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_0a94f3b8-50a9-518b-827f-37fe2fd7a98c)

ABBY hoped and prayed that she would see nothing more of Gregory Lane’s father. She was completely confused by the feelings he had aroused in her—angry with him for daring to kiss her, but even more so with herself for allowing it in the first place. The whole sequence of events had stirred her emotions to such an extent that she could not stop thinking about him.

She found Hallam Lane so undeniably attractive that it was the biggest pity in the world that he felt the way he did about career women. He was the sort of man she could have fallen for, the first one ever to make her sit up and take notice, who had sent her red blood corpuscles into a dizzying spin.

And unfortunately—for her peace of mind at any rate—he did not keep out of her life. He attended the initial court hearing and he also accompanied Greg the next time he came to see her.

When the two of them walked into her office Abby felt everything inside her flutter into chaos—every nerve-end, every pulse, each heartbeat. Determinedly, however, she stiffened her spine, hardened her tone and went straight into the attack. ‘I think you should let Greg handle his own affairs, Mr Lane.’

Today she was wearing a dusky pink skirt and matching silk blouse that should have clashed outrageously with her hair but somehow didn’t. Instead she managed to look deliciously feminine. She had taken her hair back into her nape with a big pink and gold slide, and gold hoop earrings hung from her ears.

Had she known that Greg’s father intended putting in an appearance she would most definitely have put on a plain dark suit and probably even a pair of tortoiseshell glasses! Anything to give herself a more professional image. Though, she had the uncomfortable feeling that nothing she wore would make one iota of difference where this man was concerned.

Black eyes locked into hers after they had made their now customary appraisal—during which time every single one of Abby’s senses raced into action. It was alarming the way her body reacted to him and she wished there was something she could do about it.

‘I happen to think,’ he said evenly, ‘that there is every need for me to be present’ His eyes continued to war with hers. ‘And I shall continue to attend until I’ve satisfied myself that you have sufficient experience to deal with my son’s case.’

He sounded so officious, so arrogant, so pompous that hostility prickled Abby’s spine now, all sensuous feelings flying, and she drew herself up tall, prepared to do battle. ‘Perhaps you’d like a word with one of my partners?’ she queried tartly. ‘I’m sure they’ll be more than willing to vouch for me.’

Greg stood at his father’s side, fidgeting and looking acutely uncomfortable. Abby felt sorry for him. He was caught in their crossfire and it couldn’t be good for his morale. It was such a pity that his father found it essential to interfere.

‘I don’t think that will be necessary,’ Hallam Lane answered evenly, as she had somehow expected he might. ‘But I would like Greg to leave us; I want a few words with you alone.’

Greg looked suddenly both startled and apprehensive, as she was herself, and he glanced at her hesitantly, as if asking what he should do.

Abby saw no reason why he should go out of the room, and she could not think what Hallam Lane had to say that could not be said in front of his son, but she also knew that the man would not go until he had got off his chest whatever was bothering him, so she gave Greg a slight nod and a faint smile, trying to reassure him.

When they were alone she stood tall, chin high, green eyes wary, her fingertips on the edge of the desk, and waited to hear what he had to say. Hallam Lane wore a navy suit and blue silk shirt and tie this morning, which seemed to emphasise his height and breadth. He looked every inch as dynamically attractive as before. Abby found her mouth growing dry simply by her looking at him.

‘Did Greg tell you that he has been in trouble before?’ he asked abruptly.

With an effort Abby dragged her attention away from the man and back to the business in hand. ‘As a matter of fact, no. But he is here again today so that we can further discuss—’

‘He wouldn’t have told you,’ he cut in, a faint harshness in his tone that told her how disappointed he was in his son.

‘I beg to differ,’ she said quickly and decisively. ‘Once I’ve built up a rapport with Greg, once he realises the importance of my knowing everything, I’m sure he will keep nothing from me. You should have faith in your son, Mr Lane.’

‘I must admit the boy seems to have taken a liking to you,’ he admitted grudgingly, his narrowed eyes watchful on hers.

‘It is important that he should,’ Abby replied, surprised and rather pleased by his statement. ‘And as a matter of fact I think that you’re insulting his intelligence by accompanying him everywhere he goes.’ She determinedly held his gaze. ‘Why don’t you give him some breathing space?’

‘Has he complained?’ His tone was suddenly sharpedged, his eyes suspicious.

Abby had not thought Hallam Lane would put this interpretation on her words and instantly shook her head. ‘Not at all.’

‘But you think that you’re in a position to tell me what to do?’ he rasped, stepping swiftly forward until only her desk was between them, coal-black eyes boring threateningly into green, using the full power of his body to intimidate her.

Or, at least, that was what it felt like to Abby. ‘Of course not,’ she said guardedly and quietly. ‘It just seems to me that—’

‘I’d thank you to keep your opinions to yourself,’ he growled. ‘How I—’ At that moment the telephone on Abby’s desk rang and as she lifted the receiver Hallam was compelled to stand in silence while she dealt with her call.

She was uncomfortably aware that he never once took his eyes off her, that he observed closely the porcelain quality of her skin with its scattering of freckles, her almond-shaped green eyes and tiny straight nose, her wide mouth and small, delicate ears.

And as if that wasn’t enough he allowed his eyes to slide down the slender column of her throat and rake over her breasts which were accentuated by the gentle silk of her blouse. And he made it perfectly clear that he was seeing her rounded curves beneath and not the actual clothes that she wore.

Abby felt her skin grow warm. She tried to ignore him, concentrate on her phone call. She even turned her back on him but it made no difference. He still watched and she still felt the full power of this male animal who had made such an impact on her.

She hated herself for acknowledging his intense sensuality, for letting it affect her the way it did, and as soon as she had finished her call Abby glanced briskly and pointedly at her watch. ‘I’d like to speak with your son now, Mr Lane. I have another client to see in half an hour.’

Thick dark brows rose. ‘No one dismisses me, Sommers, until I am ready to go.’ His voice was at its most pompous.

She tossed her head, beautiful eyes flashing disdainfully. ‘The more time you spend talking, the less time Greg will have.’

A thoughtful expression crossed the man’s face; a gleam appeared in the jet-black eyes. ‘Perhaps you should come to the house and talk to him. How about Friday evening? Come for a meal and—’

Abby stopped him with a quick gesture of her hand, appalled by the very idea. Go to his house? Sit through a meal with him? Suffer some more? ‘No, thank you, Mr Lane,’ she said hastily. ‘You would obviously want to put in your two pennies’ worth and that wouldn’t help matters at all. It would be much better if I saw Greg here—and alone.’ She paused a moment and then added softly, ‘As a matter of fact I think you intimidate him.’

Hallam Lane frowned swiftly and harshly, black brows drawing together in disbelief. ‘Intimidated? Greg? By me?’ He was obviously totally shocked by the suggestion. ‘What complete and utter nonsense. What on earth put that idea into your head?’

Abby shrugged expressively. ‘It was the impression I got.’

‘Impressions, impressions,’ he jeered. ‘I thought solicitors dealt in fact, not supposition. I’m telling you, Sommers, that if my son wasn’t so insistent that he wanted you to defend him then I wouldn’t waste a second of my breath talking to you.’

Abby’s chin lifted. ‘The feeling’s mutual, Mr Lane. That’s why I don’t think it would be a very good idea, my coming to your house.’ Or was it her own feelings that she was scared of—the fact that he had this amazing ability to draw some sort of unwanted response from her? Was she afraid of what might happen if she ventured into the Lane household?