No More Lonely Nights

Sian dropped the curtain back into place and went to run a bath, then looked through the clothes she had brought in her case. She laid a choice out on the bed and went into the bathroom to take a leisurely soak in the foamy water. It was half an hour before she emerged, smelling of musk and flowers, her naked body wrapped in an enormous pink bath towel.

She opened the door to find herself face to face with Cass, inches away from her. He grinned, eyes mocking as they drifted downwards to view the whole of her.

'I was just about to knock!'

'What are you doing in my room?' she bristled, flushed.

'I brought you some breakfast!'

She followed the gesture of his hand and saw the tray on her bed, biting her lip with self-irritation. 'Oh. Thanks.'

'I thought it was time you woke up,' he drawled, shooting back his cuff to show her the face of his watch.

'Gone eleven! I'd no idea it was that late! I'm sorry, you should have woken me!'

'You needed the sleep. Did you sleep well?'

She nodded, self-consciously aware that her shoulders were bare and the towel a very inadequate protection against roving eyes. It had become damp now, and clung to her body like a second skin.

'What's under the silver cover?' She bent to lift it from the plate on the tray and felt her stomach clamour at the sight of food. 'Oh, gorgeous! Bacon, mushrooms, tomatoes… I mustn't let it get cold, so I'd better dress quickly and start eating!'

He grinned at her, grey eyes teasing. 'Is that a hint?'

She smiled back drily. 'Well, what do you think?'

He strolled to the door. 'OK, when you've eaten, come down and meet some of my friends, will you?'

Sian threw a look of consternation after him, but before she could answer he had gone, closing the door after him. Some of his friends? she thought with a sinking in her stomach. What was he up to now?

She was so perturbed that she had no real appetite once she sat down to eat the breakfast he had brought up. She tried some of it, ate some toast, drank some orange juice and some coffee, then she finished doing her make-up, her hands not too steady.

She had chosen a dress of pleated cotton with a tight waist, scooped neckline and full, swirling skirt. The misty lavender-blue shade suited her, and she loved the plaited silver belt. She had picked plaited silver sandals to match it, and had given her eyelids a lavender shadow with the same silvery sheen as that on a moth's wing.

She ruefully considered herself reflected in the dressing-table mirror. The soft romanticism of the dress, the belt, the silver shoes, were hardly sexy or exciting. Men weren't going to stop in their tracks or gasp, were they?

'So what?' she asked herself. 'Who are you trying to bowl over?' Then she turned away hurriedly and made for the door, before stopping and going back for her breakfast tray.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she met a young girl in a green wrap-around overall who smiled, said cheerfully, 'Morning!' although it must almost be midday by now, and then took the tray from her.

'Thank you,' Sian said, and would have gone on to ask where she could find Mrs Cassidy, but at the sound of her voice Cass himself appeared in the doorway of a room across the hall.

'Ah, there you are! Come and meet my family.'

In some trepidation, Sian slowly joined him, flushing at the way his grey eyes wandered over her.

'You look lovely,' he said softly, and she lowered her eyes because she didn't want him to know the compliment had taken her breath away.

It was a while before she could say huskily, 'Thank you.' She had been paid many compliments before, by all sorts of men, for all sorts of reasons, from the terse, 'Not bad work!' she sometimes got from Leo, and treasured, to the practised insincerity of the office flirts telling her they really fancied her when they didn't, but merely wanted to coax her out on a date because they knew she would turn them down and that made her a challenge they couldn't pass by. No other man had ever made her feel weak inside at the way he looked at her, or made her feel she could walk on air because of something he had said.

I'm in love with him, she thought, then angrily told herself she was crazy: how on earth could you be in love on such short acquaintance?

He somehow had a strange power over her reactions, that much she couldn't deny. He caused all sorts of weird things to happen to her body; to her heart and lungs, her pulses and nerves, the blood circulating in her veins, her very skin. He was a drug to which she was wildly susceptible; just a little of him and she was having some dangerous symptoms, but that didn't add up to love, or to anything long-term, let alone permanent.

He held out his hand with a faintly imperious gesture. 'Come in, then! You aren't shy, are you?' She should have ignored both his hand and his teasing voice, but while she was deciding what to do he caught hold of her and pulled her into the room.

Sian's nervous eyes flashed around, receiving an impression of green and ivory: cool, light, springlike. The sitting-room was spacious and sunlit, with comfortable furniture, gently faded brocades at windows, a deep, soft carpet underfoot. This was both an elegant room and a family room—there were valuable and pretty porcelain figures everywhere, but also silver-framed photographs of children and dogs; an antique French clock stood next to a vase of wild flowers obviously crammed into place in a haphazard fashion, both of these standing on what Sian suspected to be a priceless Chippendale table.

It wasn't the room that made her nervous, though; it was the people in it, all staring at her with what she felt were hostile eyes.