After I put away my breakfast things I phoned Ivana. She sounded anxious to have me back in Marlborough Hall. But I was enjoying my sense of freedom after having been in an almost child-like state. It was a nice change from my father treating me as if I was a mental patient that required kid gloves, and my stepbrother and half-sister giving me pitying looks when they thought I wasn’t looking.
‘I’m fine,’ I reassured her, but she made me promise to be home by Wednesday.
After the call I put the phone down and wandered around the flat. I looked in cupboards, touched clothes, books and things that I had acquired and had no memory of. I opened a drawer and found cards—birthday cards from family and friends. An hour passed. I tried to imagine what I did in this flat before the accident and I could not imagine it. Daddy said I did some PR work for the company. But obviously it can’t have been an important job as my absence was not being noticed.
And all that time I kept thinking of Dr. Kane and that look that had passed between us. For those few seconds I had not felt cold and numb. I’d felt alive. I knew I had not imagined it. Last night he wanted me as much as I wanted him. The clock in the living room chimed. It was nearly time for lunch. Outside it was a fairly decent day and I decided a walk in the brisk air would do me good. So I dressed warmly and left my flat.
By the time I turned into New Bond Street the weather changed somewhat. Dark rain clouds were hovering above. I passed the designer boutiques where Ivana took me shopping when I first got out of hospital. She had impeccable taste and I was so lost and numb I totally left it to her to choose all my clothes and even my perfume. But now that I felt more like my own person I wanted different things.
It was only after I turned left onto Burlington Street and continued down Vigo Street that I consciously realized where I had been going all along. I was on Regent Street when it started to rain. Huge fat drops that fell on my bent head, shoulders, breasts and hands. For a moment I did nothing, just felt them. The coldness.
And then I raised my face up to the drops and let them break on my skin. I opened my mouth and they rained down on my tongue and ran down my throat. I began to laugh. It was the laugh of a mad woman. People who were hurrying under umbrellas turned to stare at me.
I became drenched very quickly. My clothes stuck to me and I shivered with cold as I walked down Shaftesbury Avenue and turned into Rupert Street. Not far to go now. I walked up to the door of Number 34 and rang the bell. Please be in, I prayed.
‘Yes?’ His voice came through the speaker muffled but recognizable.
‘It’s Olivia,’ I replied.
There was a shocked pause, then the buzzer sounded. The door to his flat was yanked open and he stood framed in the doorway looking down at me. He was wearing a gray T-shirt and faded blue jeans that clung to his hips. His eyes widened when he saw me. I swiped my hand down my hair. Rivulets of water ran down my body. I clenched my teeth to stop them from chattering and walked up the stairs toward him. I knew I must have looked like a drowned rat.
An expression crossed his face. It could have been anger, frustration or even just plain irritation. ‘Come in,’ he said and quickly pulled me into his apartment.
Instinctively I tried to snuggle into the wonderful heat of his sturdy form. But he closed the door and letting go of my hand took a step away from me. It was a rejection, pure and simple. But I knew I had not dreamed last night.
‘Get out of those and I’ll stick them in the dryer. You can have a hot shower in the bathroom. Come, I’ll show you where it is.’
He was turning away when my chilled, sluggish muscles reached out and touched his arm. He spun around so quickly it was as if I had burned him. I looked up at him, startled. ‘Wait,’ I blurted through numb lips.
Our eyes locked.
Like a man in a daze he reached out and his long pianist’s fingers traced my jaw gently and caressed my cheek. As if he did not quite believe I was real. I turned my cheek toward the life-giving warmth of his palm.
‘Olivia—’ He stopped abruptly.
I shivered.
‘You shouldn’t even be here,’ he muttered, shaking his head.
‘Why not?’ I asked.
‘Have your shower and then you have to leave.’
‘Why do I have to leave?’ I insisted.
‘I can’t.’ He turned away and walked up to a window and stood staring out into the driving rain. His back was rigid with tension.
‘Dr. Kane?’
‘Have your shower, Olivia. Second door on your right,’ he said coldly, without turning around. He did not even want to look at me.
For a few moments there was silence. Then I walked up to him and touched his back. He whirled around, his jaw clenched tight.
‘Please—’ His voice was tortured.
‘I want you.’