Eventually she fell asleep. But her sleep was troubled by nightmares, and she was back in Vishenko’s clutches—a prisoner once more. Heard him laugh his coarse laugh as he caught her when she tried to run, then tied her to the bed and laughed again as she struggled against her bonds until her wrists were bruised and bloody. No! she screamed in her dreams. No!
* * *
Liam woke at the first sound Cate made. The first whimper. He almost pulled his SIG SAUER from its holster where it hung from a corner of the cot. But then he realized whatever was troubling Cate wasn’t a real threat. At least, it wasn’t a current threat.
He threw off the sheet covering him and moved swiftly to Cate’s bedside. She was thrashing around on the bed, little moans of distress catching in her throat as she fought off the sheet and blanket entangling her. He flicked on the bedside lamp and called her name—softly at first because he didn’t want to scare her, then louder when she didn’t seem to hear him. “Cate! Cate!”
He touched her shoulder to wake her and she shot up in bed, fighting off his hand with both of hers and screaming, “No!”
Liam backed away, both hands up, palms facing her. “It’s okay, Cate. I won’t hurt you. I promise. You were having a nightmare, and I wanted to wake you, that’s all.”
Her eyes suddenly focused on him and she choked on his name. Then she covered her face with her hands and bent over, burying herself in the twisted bedclothes. At first he thought she was crying—any other woman would have been. But not Cate.
Pity swept through him. Just as last night, he knew he had to do something to make it right for her, and he didn’t stop to question either his need to comfort or hers to be comforted. He bent down and gathered her into his arms—sheet, blanket and all—then trod across the bare wooden floor to the rocking chair beside the empty fireplace. He sat down with her on his lap, her head cradled against his shoulder.
She was trembling inside her blanketed cocoon, but Liam knew it wasn’t from the cold because it wasn’t that cold in the cabin. She was trembling because she couldn’t shake off the nightmare. Because something had brought the past back to life for her, the past she wanted to forget.
He pushed the rocking chair into motion with one strong foot, crooning softly to Cate the way he remembered his mother doing to him when he was a little boy, as they rocked back and forth for endless minutes. Eventually she stopped trembling and her ragged breathing slowed, but still he rocked. Then he glanced down at her and realized—to his utter amazement—she’d fallen asleep in his arms.
In repose her face was totally innocent...and totally vulnerable. All those emotional fences she put up around herself vanished when she was sleeping, as if they had never existed. And Liam’s heart turned over.
Chapter 11
Cate woke to the sound of someone trying to move quietly around the cabin and the smell of coffee. For just a moment she didn’t remember where she was—which wasn’t unusual for her because she’d often woken in strange places. What was unusual was that she had no memory after a certain point last night. Had no memory of how she’d wound up back in bed...but she had a pretty good idea how she’d gotten there. The last thing she remembered was Liam holding her in the rocking chair, which meant—unbelievably—she hadn’t been afraid to fall asleep in his arms. He must have put her to bed, tucked her in, then gone back to his less-than-comfortable cot to finish out the night.
The cabin’s interior was still shadowed, but there was enough light to see, so she figured it was shortly after dawn. But Liam was already awake. He must be an early riser like me, she thought. She laid there for a minute, until she heard the sound of a door open and close in the distance, then total silence. Liam must have gone outside.
She slipped out of bed and headed for the bathroom. When she came out Liam was just walking in the back door, and she scurried behind the screen, then grabbed her robe and tugged it on.
“Breakfast?” he called to her from the other side of the folding screen. “You’re not a coffee drinker, right? But I am, so I made a pot for me. Let me know if you change your mind and want some.” His voice receded and she knew he’d moved into the kitchen area, but she could still hear him clearly. “There’s not much in the way of breakfast food, except dry cereal. There’s no milk until Callahan comes back this morning. I can make some oatmeal if you want something hot and don’t mind eating it without milk.”
Cate grabbed her clothes and hurried back into the bathroom—the screen gave her some privacy, but not enough to dress. “Oatmeal’s fine,” she said right before she closed the door. “I’m not picky.”