* * *
Through tormented dreams she pursued Nicky, her breathing harsh and laboured, her body on fire with heat, always calling his name, but the little boy eluded her. Once or twice Kieron appeared in the dream, his expression accusing as he demanded to know what she had done with his son, and although she begged for his forgiveness it was never forthcoming. Sometimes she slipped back into the past when there was no Nicky, only Kieron, and she awoke from one of these dreams to find herself in her bed at the villa, the sky dark velvet studded with diamond-bright stars. Someone was sitting by her side, and she twisted her head painfully, recognition and realisation flooding over her as Kieron’s dark b
lue eyes met hers.
‘Nicky,’ she moaned painfully, turning away. ‘Where’s Nicky.…?’
‘Safe with Héloise,’ Kieron told her abruptly, ‘and very worried about his mummy. What possessed you to fling yourself in front of my car like that?’
‘I couldn’t find Nicky…’ she shuddered with the memory, ‘and there was no one there. I.…’ Weak tears trickled down her face and she bit her lip fiercely. Her body ached from the cuts and bruises she must have sustained when she fell.
‘He wasn’t lost, you little fool,’ Kieron said roughly. ‘I told Louise to tell you that we were taking him with us to the airport to see the planes.’
‘He was with you? All the time he was with you?’ Briony started to laugh, high hysterical laughter that made it hurt to breathe, tears running unchecked down her face. ‘I didn’t know…I never got your message.’
‘Not for the first time,’ Kieron said enigmatically. ‘Do you know you’ve been in a high fever for three days?’
‘Have I?’ She was curiously uninterested. ‘Can I see Nicky?’ Her voice was urgent. ‘Please, Kieron, don’t torment me! Please let me see him.’
‘Of course I’m not going to torment you,’ he replied harshly. ‘I’ll have Héloise bring him to you, and then you must try and sleep.’
Nicky was subdued but so plainly safe and well that she wanted to cry again. She ran her hands over his sturdy little body, and he tried to wriggle away, but she could not resist the desire to touch him and assure herself that she wasn’t dreaming.
‘Oh, darling,’ she whispered huskily, hugging him to her, her eyes bright with tears as they met Kieron’s across the room.
‘Go with Héloise now, Nicky,’ Kieron said calmly. ‘Mummy needs to sleep.’
‘Yes, I know. ‘Cos she’s been very, very ill!’
‘I’m all better now, darling,’ Briony said softly, releasing him to Héloise. It was long past his bedtime, but the Frenchwoman explained that the doctor had said that Briony might come out of her fever during the day and they had kept him up knowing she would want to see him.
‘Why did you think I would want to punish you?’ Kieron asked abruptly when they were alone. Briony had expected him to leave the room with Héloise and Nicky, but he had stayed, going to stand by the window where he had stared out to sea, before turning to confront her with the question.
‘Did I?’ she asked huskily, wetting her dry lips. ‘I.…’
‘In your dreams…during your fever.…It was constantly on your mind,’ Kieron said harshly. ‘You kept begging me to forgive you and pleading with me not to hurt you any more.’
‘I was frightened you’d blame me for not taking proper care of Nicky,’ Briony admitted breathlessly. ‘Will you leave me now, please, Kieron? I…I’m…rather tired.’
She could not endure any more of his questions. If he continued to probe and press like this she would be bound to betray herself and admit that it had been his love and understanding she had been pleading for.
When he had gone she couldn’t sleep. She had a shower and went back to bed, counting sheep until at last exhaustion claimed her.
She had the dream again. The one where she woke up and Kieron wasn’t there, and in her fear and pain she called his name endlessly between her frantic sobs, unaware of the fact that she was not alone until she was shaken awake to find herself in Kieron’s arms, his face drawn and harsh.
That he must have been in bed with her for some time was obvious, for the alarm clock showed three o’clock in the morning, and the bed held a heavy warmth which spoke of shared closeness of more than merely a few minutes.
‘Briony.…’
‘Don’t touch me,’ she sobbed bitterly, still held by the memory of the dream. ‘You don’t care about me, only Nicky holds your heart.…’
His hand was smoothing her hair back from her heated face, and it stilled suddenly, his eyes penetrating.
‘And you want to?’
She froze from the question, her heart thudding under the hand he had slid down to cover it, one arm curving her against him so that she was resting against the strength of his body.
‘Do you want to, Briony?’ he prompted. ‘Was that what it was all about down on the beach, mm?’ His lips were touching her shoulder and her body ached to respond, but she remembered how he had cruelly rejected her and stared up at him with fear-shadowed eyes.