Chapter 2

Grant

Getting Abby to fall for me is going to be easier than I thought.

Watching her sitting on a garden bench from an upstairs balcony, stretching her arms and looking completely at ease, I grin. She may have managed to regain her composure this morning. She may have put up a brave front and tried to keep her distance from me. She may appear tough and cold. But I know better. I know what I saw in her dark eyes when they first clashed with mine.

Wonder. Excitement. Desire.

Just as I expected.

Indeed, so far, everything is going according to plan.

“You’ve got that creepy look on your face again,” Roger’s voice breaks into my thoughts.

I still find it puzzling how such a large man can make such little noise. Then again, he was a spy of some sort before he came to work for my grandfather.

“What creepy look?” I ask as I sit down.

He opens the bottle of water in his hand as he leans on the wall. “I take it your first meeting went well?”

“It did.” I grab the bottle of brandy and pour myself a glass. “Better than I expected.”

“Can’t you just ask her nicely?”

“What? Just go up to her and say ‘Hey, can you fall in love with me so that I can get Lindsey Holland to put her name on my apps?’” I shake my head as I take a sip. “Sorry, but no.”

A few weeks ago, I spoke to Lindsey Holland, the country’s top female psychologist, who also happens to be my ex. I told her I was coming up with a whole line of apps designed for women and I wanted her name on them. She refused and when I persisted, she said she would only agree if I managed to make a woman fall in love with me for real. So far, I’ve sent her a few women I’ve slept with but she’s turned them all against me with her psycho-babble to prove they weren’t really in love with me. I can’t waste any more time. I have to take things more seriously. I have to find the perfect woman.

The moment I saw Abby in Nathan’s office, I knew she had potential. And as soon as I’d read her file, I knew she was the one. She’s single. She’s smart, so Lindsey won’t take her for a fool, and she hasn’t been with a man for a while, which means she’s probably waiting to be swept off her feet. That is exactly what I’m going to do. Plus, she’s a Filipina, so Lindsey should approve of her.

I look at Roger. “You like her, don’t you?”

“She isn’t like all the other women you’ve been with before.” He puts the cap back on his bottle after drinking. “She’s… strong.”

Wow. Roger was able to form that opinion even though he just got a few minutes to talk to Abby? If I didn’t know him better, I wouldn’t have believed him. But I do.

I’ve known Roger since he started working for Grandfather. I was only a teenager then. I’m not exactly sure what his background is but I know he fell in love with my mother and promised her he’d watch over me, which is why he’s here with me now. I know, too, that he’s as good a judge of character as he is skilled with a gun and a knife.

If he says Abby is strong, she must be. But it doesn’t matter.

“If you didn’t want her getting hurt, you should have kept the gate closed,” I tell him.

“I guess I’m taking a chance on her.”

I crease my eyebrows at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Anyway, you are going to hire maids, aren’t you?” Roger asks. “The house is clean right now but it won’t take long for the dust to settle. And I washed the kettle and some cups so I can make tea but the rest of the silverware still needs cleaning.”

“Abby said she’ll take care of it.”

Roger nods then leaves. Alone, I continue watching Abby, who’s still in the garden deep in thought and without a clue she’s being watched.

So she managed to impress Roger, huh? Well, I have to admit I’m fascinated by her personality as well. As for her looks... she’s attractive enough, maybe even more so because she’s trying to hide it. For example, she has her brown hair tied in a bun on the top of her head and something tells me that’s how she’s always worn it. She has full lips but she isn’t wearing lipstick. In fact, she’s barely wearing any makeup. Her gray cashmere turtleneck, black cardigan, and floral scarf expertly conceal her ample-sized breasts and slim waist while making nothing of a fashion statement. Her pencil skirt extends two inches below the knee even though I caught a glimpse of smooth legs.

Why is she hiding? Who is she hiding from?

It doesn’t matter. It makes things more interesting. In fact, heat stirs in my crotch as I anticipate setting her hair loose and unraveling all those layers of unflattering clothing.

Right. I’m going to break through those walls around her, draw her out, and win her over. I’m going to make Abby mine.

And I already have the next step planned.