Free The American Earl by Kathryn Jensen

observing him coolly.
    â€œWell?” he demanded, sipping the clear, pungent liquid that burned its way down his throat.
    â€œI know why you don’t like this outfit and why you’ve been so difficult to pin down the last few days,” she said.
    He studied his drink. It could have used one of those little pearl onions. He tried to concentrate on that shortcoming. Anything to avoid meeting her eyes.
    â€œDid you hear me, Matt?”
    He sighed. “So enlighten me. Why don’t I like the suit?”
    â€œBecause you want to sleep with me but you won’t admit it.”
    His laugh was too loud and forced to be sincere. “Quite an imagination you have, lady.”
    â€œI don’t think so,” she said slowly, her eyes washing over him in an unsettlingly perceptive way. She stepped closer to him, and he had to brace himself from backing away defensively. “I think we’re attracted to each other. But we have to find a way to work around those feelings. I can’t do my job if you keep disappearing and won’t communicate with me.”
    He nodded. “I see.” He wasn’t admitting anything except that he had made himself scarce the last few days. “Whether or not there’s anything happening between the two of us,” he said carefully, “dressing like the matron of a girl’s boarding school isn’t the answer.”
    â€œI’m just dressing conservatively.”
    He couldn’t stand it any longer. She was too composed, too sure of herself…and he was falling apart inside. “Damn it, Abby, grow up! You could walk into this room in a bikini and I wouldn’t lay a hand on you!”
    She tilted her head to one side and observed him doubtfully. “I think I’ll stick with this.”
    Â 
    The following day Abby didn’t have time to brief Matt on his messages until they were on their way tohis afternoon appointment. All morning had been spent with his lawyer, drawing up the contract with a new exporter. Matt had asked her to read the contract and witness his signature. She was flattered that he still was giving her a chance to view the inner workings of his business, even though their original boss–employee relationship had lurched precariously into temporary intimacy.
    Beneath the low-key tempo of their business days, an undeniable electricity still flashed between them. By the time they were driving back across the city in the limo, Abby felt as if her flesh was prickling from the back of her neck to the bottoms of her heels. Still she tried to concentrate on the work at hand, which was keeping Matt up to date on his e-mail and phone messages.
    â€œThis one, I couldn’t figure out,” she said, checking the page she’d printed before they left the hotel.
    â€œHere, look. It’s from Scotland. Something about the Knight of Castle Donan?”
    He took the slip of paper from her with a laugh.
    â€œIt’s from my brother Christopher. When we were boys we communicated in code, in the foolish hope my father wouldn’t know what we were up to. Christopher was the Knight of Donan, one of the family properties that was passed on to him. He and his bride live in the castle now.” He was reading while he was talking, but his smile gradually faded.
    â€œIs something wrong?”
    Matt leaned back into his seat, and she could see the muscles in his handsome face tighten with anxiety. “Nothing that hasn’t been wrong for all of our lives.”
    Abby laid a hand over his as he crumpled the paper in his fist. “Can I help?”
    â€œNot unless you can talk my brother out of a disaster in the making.”
    â€œWhat does he want to do?”
    â€œArrange a family reunion, at my father’s estate.”
    Abby shook her head, confused. “Why is that a bad idea?”
    â€œBecause my father could give a damn about seeing any of us.”
    Abby stared at him. What a horrid way