Playing With Fire

Chapter Three

Annabel awoke screaming, her wide-open eyes taking only a fraction of a second to register that something was wrong.

No light.

Only darkness. Shadows.

God, where was it – where was the light to stop the spectres of her dream closing in, to keep the dark shapes from looming? She yelped as the shadows above her moved . . . and then she screamed again when something touched her arm.

This time the nightmare was real. She kicked and thrashed in terror and suddenly the shape recoiled.

‘Jesus! Annabel . . .’

She rolled onto her hands and knees, scrambled to the far side of the bed and half fell to the floor, ready to run. 

‘Annabel. It’s all right.’

That voice – soft, gentle – made her pause.

‘It’s me, a mhuirnín. Aidan.’

Aidan? The mad swirl of adrenalin and fear made it impossible to pin the word to a coherent thought.

The shadowy figure moved to the bedside. With a click, light flooded the room and Annabel’s knees nearly gave out with relief. Tall and lean, his black hair mussed around his handsome face, it was Aidan. Of course – he’d brought her home after work, asked to stay the night after they’d jumped on each other like rampant rabbits.

Shaking, she reached for the bed and sat down heavily before she fell down. ‘Why the hell did you turn off the lights?’

After a short pause, she heard him move around the bed behind her. ‘You were sleeping,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know they were supposed to be kept on.’

God, what must he think she sounded like? A scared child afraid of the dark. Pathetic. She leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees and buried her face in her hands. ‘It doesn’t matter. It was just a bad dream.’

She sensed him coming to stop beside her. ‘It was that all right,’ he said softly. ‘Get back under the covers now before you get cold.’

Raising her head from her hands, she noticed that goosebumps were already springing up on her arms and legs. She guessed running around stark naked in the middle of a February night in England would do that. Casting a glance at Aidan she found he was also naked, although he showed no signs of feeling the cold; not surprising when he always radiated such warmth.

She’d had her first real reminder of that warmth earlier, when he’d eventually pulled from her body, turned on her bedside light and undressed them both. After tucking her under the covers, he’d climbed in the opposite side of the bed and settled her against the bare skin of his chest, stroking her hair. She couldn’t recall much more after that. The enveloping heat and soothing caress must have carried her straight off to sleep. 

Well, she didn’t feel warm or sleepy now. And she really didn’t like having someone in her private space, witnessing her humiliating loss of composure. 

‘Is there anything I can do?’ Aidan advanced, hands reaching for her. ‘Anything I can get you?’

Rather than be herded back into bed, she jumped to her feet instead. ‘No, I’m fine,’ she said. And she would be, as soon as she’d had some time alone to get her shit together. ‘I, ah . . . need the loo.’

She detoured around him to pick up her robe and, although he said nothing further, she could feel his gaze following her. Knowing how perceptive it was, how easily it could see beneath the surface, she kept her face averted, concentrating on tying her robe as she headed for the hallway. She didn’t want to be read. Not now. ‘Don’t wait up.’