No More Lonely Nights

'Can we go?' she broke in sharply. 'Annette ought to be in bed.'

The men looked at Annette then, and Rick bit his lip and put his arm around her. Annette gave a sigh and leaned on him, closing her eyes. Cass turned away.

'I'll get the car and pick you up outside.'

He spun around and walked away rapidly. Sian stared after him, her brows together. Had it hurt to watch Annette cling to Rick? It must have done, of course, but William Cassidy was a strong man. He would handle his emotional scars, human beings did. Sian made a face, remembering her own pain not so long ago. It hadn't been quite as deep or as agonising as this situation must be to William Cassidy, but it had been bad for a while and she had come through it. Not that William Cassidy would thank her for telling him that, at the moment. People hated you if you said something about time healing all wounds. You couldn't blame them. Clichés were infuriating when you were hurting badly.

She almost fell asleep in the front seat of the limousine. It glided so smoothly, almost silently, through the warm night, and nobody spoke a word all the way to Cass's house.

When they pulled up at the end of a winding drive, in front of a big house whose facade she could barely see in the darkness, Rick helped Annette out and Sian stood waiting while William Cassidy unlocked the front door.

'If you want a room you're welcome to stay,' he told Rick, who reacted as if he had been stung.

'No, thanks!'

He kissed Annette, who looked up at him helplessly. 'You aren't going?'

'I'll stay with an old friend. See you tomorrow.' Rick turned and looked at Sian. 'You will take care of her?'

She nodded. 'I promise. She'll be safe while I'm around.'

Rick turned on his heel and walked away, his feet crunching on the gravelled drive, his shape soon swallowed up in the shadows of the trees lining the drive.

'I'll take you straight upstairs,' Cass said, switching on the hall light. Annette blinked and gave a stifled sigh, looking around the elegant place with hunted eyes. She had fled all this, but fate had dragged her back.

She had been here before, she knew the house, but Sian didn't, and in spite of her weariness she couldn't help feeling curious and staring around her as they followed William Cassidy upstairs.

He opened a door and gestured. 'I leave it up to you—you can either share this room, or one of you can sleep here and the other sleep in the room next door.'

Sian looked at Annette questioningly. 'What do you want to do?' The room had twin beds in it; it was spacious and beautifully furnished. She would have been quite happy sharing it with Annette, but the other girl shook her head in a tired, indifferent way.

'I'd rather be alone for a while.' She walked slowly into the room and shut the door on them. Sian frowned, and looked at Cass.

'Should we leave her alone?'

'It might be the best thing for her,' he said, frowning too, his lean face shadowed by stubble and his eyes hooded by weary lids. 'Come and see the other room.'

It was smaller, but charming: all gold and cream with brocade curtains and French period furniture, a deep-piled carpet, a bed which Sian looked at yearningly.

'I hope you'll be comfortable,' William Cassidy said, and she pulled a face at him.

'Tonight I could sleep on the floor.'

He laughed then. 'You won't have to—there's a bathroom en suite, of course, through that door, and that opens out into Annette's room, if you want to check on her during the night.' He fingered his chin, staring down at her and smiling crookedly. 'I think you may even find something to wear in the chest of drawers. This was my sister's room. She got married last year, but she didn't take all her things with her. Quite a few clothes sti

ll seem to be around. I'm pretty sure there's a nightie in one of the drawers.' He paused. 'I'd better see if Annette needs anything, too.'

'I'll do that,' Sian said quickly, and was given a slanted glance. His mouth was grim.

'Very well. Goodnight.'

The door closed with a snap. He hadn't liked it when she had insisted on dealing with Annette, she realised. Well, it had been his idea that she should come here; Rick trusted her to keep William Cassidy away from Annette, and she was going to protect the girl if she could. Annette had been through enough already today. Sian would never have acted the way Annette had; but she still felt sorry for her.

She felt a little odd, rummaging through drawers full of his sister's belongings. From what Rick had said, Magdalena Cassidy would have been indignant if she knew that a stranger, and a common reporter at that, was fingering these delicate, delicious, dreamy concoctions of satin, silk and lace, which must have cost the earth.

Surely the girl hadn't forgotten them? Or was she so wealthy that she didn't miss them and had another room full of such things in her new home? Rick had said she had married a wealthy man. Sian drew a filmy nightie out and gazed at it enviously. Lucky Magdalena. Sian could only afford nylon.

She threw the nightie over her arm and went to see if Annette was still awake. The room was in darkness and there was no sound from the bed when Sian whispered, 'Annette? Are you OK?'