‘I’ll—try,’ she whispered thickly, then sucked in a breath of air that entered her lungs like a shaky sigh, the tears she had been trying to hold back since she entered her old studio minutes ago suddenly bulging in her eyes.
Guy’s mouth moved on a grimace of sombre understanding. And he lifted one of his hands to gently stroke her long bright hair away from the single tear trailing down her pale cheek. He made no effort to wipe the tear away, but simply squatted there watching its downward path until it reached the corner of her trembling mouth, when he leaned forward and gently kissed it away.
‘I ask for nothing more,’ he murmured gruffly. ‘Nothing more.’
Marnie made an effort to gather herself, pulling her hands free and sitting up straighter on the bed, effectively putting much needed distance between them, both on a physical and a spiritual plane.
‘The chicken will be ruined,’ she said, trying for a rueful smile.
‘Not if we’re quick,’ he countered, taking his lead from her and straightening his long body into a standing position. ‘A quick shower each, and we’ll meet in the kitchen in five minutes.’ He turned to walk back to the door—then stopped, turning back to glance around the room.
‘This is all right for you?’ he asked politely.
Marnie stood up. ‘Yes,’ she said uninterestedly. ‘It’s fine.’
‘You…’ He lifted a hand to run it through his hair in a oddly uncertain gesture. ‘Would you prefer to use our old room while I use this one?’
The action and his curious tone made her frown. ‘No,’ she refused. ‘That’s your room. You’ll sleep better in your own bed. Of course I don’t want to take it from you.’
‘Sleep?’ he murmured drily. ‘What’s that?’ The hand moved to the back of his neck, holding it while he grimaced wryly at her. ‘I have not had a single moment’s sleep since you came back into my life two nights ago,’ he admitted. ‘I just lie there, listening to every move you make, on the alert in case you decide to make a bolt for it again.’
‘I told you I wouldn’t,’ she reminded him.
‘I know.’ The hand dropped heavily to his side and clenched into a fist. ‘But it makes no difference. What is it that keeps you a
wake, Marnie?’ he then posed softly.
You, she wanted to say. Memories. My own black thoughts. ‘I give you my solemn vow, Guy,’ she said drily instead, ‘that I will not move out of this bed once I am in it—will that help ease your fractious mind?’
‘No.’ He smiled. ‘But I suppose it will have to do. See you in five minutes.’ Then he was gone, leaving her feeling ever so slightly—perplexed.
They ate in silence, Marnie with the long sleeves of his pyjama top rolled over several times before she found her hands. He’d grinned at the sight of her when she’d first walked into the kitchen but had said nothing, the small compromise she had allowed seeming to have taken all the tension out of the air. The chicken was not quite ruined, the pasta still edible, just about, and they washed it down with a glass of good Italian white wine.
Not very long after they had finished the meal, Marnie yawned and got up, more than ready for her bed.
She only hoped she could manage to sleep a little tonight. Certainly she was more than tired enough to do so.
And thankfully she did, dropping off to sleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, curling herself into a loose ball with the feel of Guy’s pyjamas cocooning her in sensual silk. In fact, the feeling was so provocative that she found herself drifting into an erotic dream, where Guy was no longer her enemy and she was welcoming him into her bed and her arms as though he had never left them.
He felt wonderful to the touch, his skin like fine leather beneath her exploring fingertips, her mouth automatically softening as he gently kissed her.
‘Mmm,’ she sighed out pleasurably.
‘Go back to sleep,’ he murmured.
Back to sleep—? Her eyes flew open, her heart beginning to race madly when she found herself securely curled into the warm curve of his body.
‘What are you doing here?’ she gasped, trying to pull away.
He wouldn’t let her. ‘Don’t start, Marnie.’ He sighed out wearily. ‘I have not come here to seduce you, if that is what you are thinking.’
‘Then why are you here?’ she demanded, glaring coldly at him as he reluctantly opened his eyes.
‘I still couldn’t sleep. So I decided the next best option was to join you here. As a therapy, it is working,’ he yawned, his eyes closing sleepily. ‘I am almost dead to the world already.’
‘But—Guy!’ she cried, managing to get an arm free and flinging it out to grab hold of his shoulder. It felt like satin beneath her touch, warm and tightly muscled. ‘Guy!’ she snapped, giving him a shake.
But he was already asleep! She couldn’t believe it! Could not believe his utter gall in just calmly climbing into bed with her. She sighed angrily, gave the satin shoulder a mulish slap and sighed again, letting her head fall back on to the pillow because, fast asleep or not, he was still holding on to her, giving her no room to escape.