Authors: Patricia Wilson
The taxi
dropped her opposite an office block that dominated the whole road. In spite of
its height it was tasteful, the stone of the facing blending in with the older
buildings around it. But there was no mistaking it. One word—one name—served as
a reminder of the man who held them in the palm of his hand and that name swept
across the front of the building in letters six feet high. She had to look up
to see it but she already knew it was there. The letters were burnished by the
sunlight and shone back at her, hurting her eyes.
‘Steele’.
Nothing more, just the one name—Logan’s name, her name. She clenched her teeth
and crossed the road, marching up the three shallow steps and walk in through
the gleaming glass doors. She had not come to throw down the gauntlet, she had
come to capitulate but afterwards Logan would know she had been there. She was
no longer a shy, bewildered girl of nineteen and whatever happened, she was
determined that he would not forget this visit.
I wish to see Mr. Steele!’
At the reception desk she told the young woman with a look of determination,
knowing that she would be unlikely to get further with strides. The girl was
new and Abigail wondered how many changes Logan had made
‘Unless
you have an appointment—’
‘I do not have an
appointment. However, I intend to see him. Please ring his office.’
I’m
sorry, that’s out of the question.’
Abigail
wasted no more words. She marched across the foyer and into the lift. She knew
exactly where Logan’s office was and nobody was going to stop her further
entrance. The girl raced across but the doors of lift closed and Abigail was on
her way. As the lift stopped on the third floor she stepped out and faced the
gasping receptionist, who had obviously run up the stairs to cut her off.
‘You
cannot see Mr. Steele!’ The girl was red-faced for more than one reason. There
was her breathless stale, her utter annoyance but, more than that, there was a
door just opening as a tall, dark-haired man showed out his visitor.
‘You see, I can see Mr.
Steele,’ Abigail announced sharply. I don’t think
I
need an appointment. I’m his wife.’
The two man at the door
turned at the sound of her voice and the tall dark haired man looked at her
with suspiciously clear grey eyes, his mouth hardening as he saw her. For a
moment he simply stated at her coldly and then the hard, well-shaped lips
twisted in a, mocking smile.
‘Hello,
Abigail,’ he said softly. ‘Come right in.’
He nodded
casually to his visitor, aimed a stare of dismissal at the receptionist and
motioned Abigail into his office with one smooth sweep of his hand. She didn’t
look at him as she passed, and he closed the door, walking to his desk
immediately.
‘So what
can I do for you, Abigail?’
‘Nothing!’
she bit out, I’m not in the habit of begging.’
‘No. I
realise that you’re now an efficient, brisk female. I’ve kept my eyes on you
over the years.’
He turned
to face her and Abigail felt a shock that almost wiped the defiance from her
face. The tall, lithe body was the same. The dark brown hair was the same,
still shining with health, still showing immaculate grooming. But there the
likeness to the Logan she remembered faded. If she had changed why had she
expected that Logan would still look the same? He was hardened beyond belief.
His grey
eyes were now cold as frosted crystal. The well-shaped mouth was hard and his
face showed no sign of humanity at all. The memory of his expressions flashed
across her mind-his mocking humour, his amused astonishment, his coaxing
sensuality. Everything was gone and his coldly handsome face might just as
well have been carved from rock.
‘All you
know about me is the end result of the havoc you’ve caused!’ Abigail snapped,
forcing herself back into the defiant frame of mind, making herself remember
just what Logan was.
‘I know
more than you imagine.’ he stated icily. ‘And there is no havoc. Havoc suggests
a random and haphazard method of destruction. It suggests confusion and disorder,
a shambles. I do not act in any random manner. I plan.’
‘You plan
very well.’ Abigail congratulated him sarcastically. ‘You’ve crushed the Madden
Corporation; we’re finished.’
‘Not
quite,’ he murmured, his brilliantly clear eyes taking over her. ‘The firm is
still viable entity.’ He turned to his desk, sitting down and indicating a
chair for her ‘However,’ he continued, ‘You have assured me that you are not
here to beg. So, once again, what can I do for you, Abigail?’
‘Nothing!’
she snapped out furiously. ‘Nothing at all. We surrender. I’m here to tell you
that. You can bring the sword down now, make the final cut. You’ve hurt us all
you can.’
He leaned
back in his chair and stared at her disconcertingly, his eyes roaming over her
with cold appraisal, lingering on the glossy black hair that curled around her
shoulders, moving over her slender figure in the chocolate-coloured suit. His
gaze returned to her face, moving slowly over every beautiful feature and
stopping at the blaring green of her eyes as he noted the resentment at this
minute inspection.
‘You were
never included in this,’ he reminded her quietly, ‘No?’ she queried scornfully
‘I was a pawn, another thing to take from the Madden Corporation That sounds
very much like inclusion to me. I was stupid, gullible and useful. Well, you’ve
done your worst, this will kill my father. I expect that’s what you want.’
‘I do
not!’ Logan rasped, his eyes burning like fire on ice. ‘But even if I did I
would be justified. Kent Madden killed my father and my mother!’
‘You’re
lying!’ Abigail felt shakily for the chair and sat down, staring at him in
honor, but he looked hard at her unfeelingly, the blazing fire dying out of his
eyes.
‘I’ve
never found it necessary to lie. Did he never tell you, Abigail’ Ask him! Ask
your father what this is about. Did you think it was because of you, because
you left me and ran home to Daddy? You imagine you’re important enough to cause
this devastation? Ask him why I’m crushing him slowly. Ask him why I’m steadily
squeezing the life out of the firm. And remind that him about John Steele and
his wife. Kathleen—my father and mother!’
‘It’s not
true!’ Abigail whispered, looking at him in horror. ‘You’re saying it to
justify everything you’ve done. You would have told me before; when we were
married you would have—!’
‘You were
never involved,’ he assured her calmly. His eyes never leaving her desperate
face, It was a battle that did not concern you. It is -and always was—a battle
with your father. I wanted you. I took you away from a villain. And as to ‘when
we were married’ we’re still married. You announced that as you arrived here’’
‘My
father is not a villain,’ Abigail managed in an almost pleading voice, but his
face did not soften.
‘Oh, the
law will never catch him.’ Logan said harshly. ‘He was too clever for that.’ He
lowered his voice to a softly menacing murmur. ‘But I didn’t need the law to
caught him. He was never meant to escape. It’s taken me five years. Promises to
keep, Abigail. I’m glad you didn’t come to plead, because it would have been
useless. I have him right where I want him—my hands around his throat.’
Abigail
got slowly to her feet, her eyes not leaving him. She didn’t know him. She had
never known him.
And this was the man she
had loved deeply, helplessly. His voice was alarming, so quietly threatening
that she had a rush of fear for her father. It was not the end. Logan had planned something else. She stated at him with frightened eyes and then she fell
to the carpet in a dead faint.
When she came round she was
in Logan’s arms and the receptionist was just hurrying in through the door.
‘She fainted,’ Logan said sharply. ‘I’ll bring her to the first aid room.’
‘I am all right’ Abigail
managed to whisper, ‘You can just put me down now, thank you.’
‘Such gentle manners,’ Logan muttered disparagingly. But then, you always did have that sweet nature. You’re not
all right, Abigail Contrary to popular fiction, people do not faint with either
horror or disgust. You will lie down in the first-aid room.’
It was useless to argue.
She knew him too well for that but she shivered at the realisation that she was
in his arms after so long. Once it had been where she’d always wanted to be.
Now the feel of his arms frightened her. I can walk,’ she insisted, but he
simply ignored her, and after a few seconds he was walking through a door and
Placing
her on a small, white sheeted bed as the woman bended over her and took off her
shoes.
Ensure
that she stays there,’ Logan ordered, and the receptionist nodded her agreement
as he turned and walked out of the room.
A little
sleep,’ she murmured in a pacifying voice. Trying to remove Abigail’s jacket
‘He won’t contemplate killing you yet,’ she added as Abigail protested and
tried to get up. ‘Just rest, please, Mrs. Steele. It will solve a lot of
trouble and you do look very pale.’
Abigail subsided,
wondering how much the people in these offices knew about her, about Logan’s private life, about his deadly attack on her father. Did they know that she was
Kent Madden’s daughter? Did they know that he was being slowly crushed by Logan? Already her name had filtered round the building, it seemed. What else were they
talking about?
She was
soon just in her white slip, the sheets drawn over her, and the woman sighed
thankfully.
‘Just
rest,’ she said in a pleading voice. ‘If you’re asleep when he comes back in
he’ll be satisfied.’
Abigail
closed her eyes to escape from further conversation—and Logan would not come
back in, she thought. He would now be entirely occupied with something else,
his memory of her small fainting spell merely an irritated edge to his hard
mouth. She felt light-headed almost afraid to keep her eyes closed, and she
knew that Logan was right. It had not been horror or anything that had made her
faint. She hadn’t eaten properly far days. She was light-headed from hunger and
tension.
She
slept, in spite of her determination to remain awake, and as she opened her
eyes a little later she was startled to find Logan in the room, looking down at
her with cool detachment.
‘When did
you last eat?’ he asked coldly. ‘Don’t’ bother to lie. Your skin looks
transparent. You’ve lost weight. You’re practically withering away.’
‘Are you
surprised?’ she began, trying to sit up. He pushed her down to the pillows, his
hand against her shoulder.
‘Answer
my question,’ he grated. ‘When did you eat?’
‘I don’t
know. I can’t remember. Yesterday—perhaps, Yesterday lunchtime, I think. I’m
not sure.’
‘You’ll
eat now,’ he ordered, his hand coming to her back as he helped her to sit up.
‘Get dressed. There’s some soup ready for you. It’s about all you can take
after a spell of starvation.’
‘I don’t
need your help,’ Abigail managed to snap sitting, but pulling the sheets to her
neck. ‘I’m capable of feeding myself in my own good time. If you’ll leave, I’II
get dressed.’
Logan
’s face twisted in anger, his hand coming out to
tear the sheets from her grasp.
‘Get
dressed!’ he ordered harshly. ‘I’ve seen you in far Iess than you’re wearing
now. I’ve touched every inch of you. Don’t get coy with me, Abigail. When
you’re dressed I’ll take you through to the dining room. You will eat before
you leave this building, otherwise you’ll not leave at all.’
She felt too shaken to
argue and she slid from the bed, reaching for her skirt and blouse, trying to
pretend that Logan wasn’t there. In any case, he had moved to stand by the
window and glare down into the street, his hands in his pockets, his whole
demeanour one of rage.
‘I’m ready.’ Her quiet
announcement had him turning around, his eyes running coldly over her, and then
he came forward and opened the door, leading the way to another room, where a
table was set for her and a bowl of hot soup had just been brought. It was not
a big room but it was luxurious and Abigail glanced round surreptitiously.
The executive dining room,’
Logan growled. ‘This was done two years ago, long after you fled. It’s small
but cozy. You can eat. Nobody is about to burst in here.’
Who would dare? She
thought. Logan was here. He looked as if he was going to stay, too. He sat
opposite and just stated at her unwaveringly and Abigail found it impossible to
eat.
‘I—I
can’t eat.’ she began, and, if anything, Logan’s lips tightened even more.
‘You’ll
eat,’ he ordered. ‘If you do not, then you’ll still be here in the morning and
soup will be brought for you every half-hour during that time.’
‘You
can’t do this!’ Abigail protested. ‘You have no right whatever to—’
‘Might is
right,’ Logan reminded het shortly ‘Eat your soup. If my presence spoils your
appetite then I’ll go out for a while, but escape is impossible. You came here
demanding entrance to my office. You announced your marital status and the
whole building is quivering with anticipation. I would know before you even got
to lift,’