No More Lonely Nights

Sian put out her hand, her eyes stea

dily fixed on Annette's face. 'I've got to talk to you, Annette. Come down.' She looked round. 'Is there somewhere where we can talk, Rick?'

'I don't want to talk to you…' Annette broke off, frowning. 'Talk about what? What are you…'

Sian's green eyes went back to her.

Annette's intake of air was audible. 'What is it?' She stared down into Sian's face and grew intensely pale. 'My father?' The leap of intuition did not surprise Sian somehow. Gently, she told Annette the truth and the other girl closed her eyes, giving a sharp cry of anguish.

'My fault, it's all my fault—he's going to die, because of me!'

'No,' Sian said quickly, but Cass spoke first, his voice insistent.

'His heart has been bad for the past year, Annette. It's amazing that he hasn't had a serious attack before. You can't blame yourself, it isn't your fault.'

Sian watched him through her lashes; his face was gentle now, all the rage gone. He must love Annette deeply. As he had admitted, he really cared about her, even though she had hurt him badly by deserting him at the very altar for another man. Only a very deep love could forgive such a betrayal. William Cassidy must be quite a man, Sian wryly decided. Couldn't Annette see that?

Annette was crying now, her hands over her face. Sian moved towards her, but Rick got there first, putting his arms round the girl's slim, shaking body. He led her back up the stairs, murmuring to her. Sian heard a door close, then Rick came back to the top of the stairs and looked down.

'She's getting dressed. I'll dress, too, and come with you, if that's OK.' His tone was defiant, and his eyes said that even if it wasn't OK with William Cassidy he was coming anyway.

'We'll wait outside in my car,' Cass said without any other comment.

Back in the warmth and comfort of the limousine, Sian shed the overcoat, handing it back to him. 'Thank you. What a gorgeous coat it is! Pure cashmere, isn't it?'

He took it absent-mindedly. 'What? Oh, yes, I think it is.' Clearly, he didn't care, and he settled back into his own seat a moment later, tapping his long fingers on the wheel, looking up at the lighted windows of the little house. 'I didn't realise she had run to Wesley,' he said, almost to himself. 'In fact, I'd no idea that they were ever close.' He shot Sian a look, frowning, his grey eyes probing her face. 'She told you about him? I gather you knew.'

'I think she was dating him before she started seeing you.'

He nodded, his mouth a firm line, curiosity in his eyes.

'In fact,' Sian decided to add, 'I gathered that you scared him away—he felt he couldn't compete. As you see, he doesn't have your…' She paused to find the right word, and ended, 'Advantages.'

He looked round at the small house. 'Is this his place or…?'

'His parents live here,' Sian told him.

'She poured it all out to you, did she?' He was looking angry again, his facial bones tight. 'Or did you coax her to confide all her secrets? Am I going to read all about it in tomorrow's paper?'

Sian was flushed, her green eyes hectic and defiant. 'It's my…'

'Job!' he finished for her with a bite that made her stiffen. 'Excuse yourself with that corny old line, if you like, but don't ask me to accept it, because I don't. Annette didn't know what she was doing when she talked so much. If she had realised you were a journalist…'

'I told her!'

That stopped him in his tracks for a minute; he stared at her with dislike, then shrugged. 'Maybe you did and she didn't realise what that would mean. I can't believe she wanted her private life splashed all over the newspapers.'

Sian knew he was probably right; Annette had not been in a condition to know what might happen if she confided so openly in a total stranger. She hadn't really taken in what Sian said about her job, she hadn't been listening.

'It made rather a romantic little story,' she said drily, knowing he would hate what she was going to say, but determined to say it. 'Annette's such a nice, ordinary girl, and she chose not to be Cinderella to your Prince Charming—she ran away from the ball back to her nice, ordinary young man. You may not find that charming, but a lot of readers will.'

The front door opened and they both watched as Annette appeared with Rick hovering protectively at her elbow. She was wearing a warm anorak under which Sian recognised the clothes she had lent her. Had Rick lent her the anorak?

'I know you must have been badly hit, but try to understand,' she said hurriedly to William Cassidy, who turned a blank face to her and didn't answer.

Sian realised it was early for him to begin to get over the first blow of finding out that Annette had run away from him, but this was no time for him to say anything to Annette. She would have enough problems coping with guilt over her father's heart attack. Sian had learnt during their drive up from the New Forest to London just how close father and daughter were, how attached Annette was to her father, and how much he, in turn, cared about her.

'She'll blame herself,' Sian told William Cassidy as Annette and Rick came towards the car. 'She mustn't; it could haunt her for the rest of her life if her father dies now. Don't make it harder for her.'