Playing With Fire

Chapter Five

The following Sunday night, Annabel trudged up the stairs to her flat. Although a quiet dinner service at Cluny’s meant it was only 10.30, she felt beyond shattered. With her mother now home from the hospital, she’d been relegated to sleeping on the sofa and, as she’d predicted, her already disturbed nights had got worse. Much worse. Her entire body ached to the point that she’d started to wonder whether it would be more comfortable to bed down on the floor.

Which was why she’d been glad when Aidan had phoned earlier to tell her he was back in London and invited her to spend the night at his place. For a moment she’d considered insisting that they stick to their original plan of meeting up tomorrow on her day off, even though she was sure she was too tired even to dream tonight. But if the idea of a warm, sexy Irishman hadn’t been enough of an incentive to lure her into accepting his offer, the prospect of a night in his big comfy bed had proved irresistible.

All she had to do now was stay awake long enough to collect some clothes and grab a cab over to East London.

She turned her key in the lock and pushed open her front door. Over the noise of the TV coming from inside she was surprised to hear a familiar deep, Irish-accented voice. Sure enough, when she made her way to her sitting room she found Aidan, standing with her mother by the bookcase, the two of them absorbed in conversation.

‘What’s going on?’ Annabel said.

The talking stopped abruptly as they turned towards her.

‘Oh, hello, darling. I didn’t hear you come in,’ Ellen said, reaching to return the photograph of Annabel and her father to its place on the shelf. Although her red hair and green eyes had begun to fade somewhat as she aged, it was obvious that mother and daughter shared the same genes. ‘I was just reminiscing. Probably boring poor Aidan to tears.’

Annabel turned her attention to Aidan and felt a flutter in her stomach. Looking sinfully gorgeous in his black bike leathers, he started across the room to greet her. Had it really only been a week since she’d last seen him? Strangely, it felt like years.

‘What are you doing here? I thought I was coming to you?’

‘And I thought it would be nice to come and pick you up.’

‘You didn’t need to do that.’ In fact she’d have preferred it if he hadn’t. God only knew what the two of them had been talking about. In his efforts to get Annabel to bare all to him, Aidan was a shameless snoop, and her mother had never learned how to exercise discretion in response to an enticing male smile.

‘If you want the truth, I couldn’t wait,’ Aidan said, enclosing her in the feel of soft leather and strong arms, and pressing a tender but brief kiss to her lips. As she looked up at him, the fluttering in her stomach morphed into a full-on swoop. Framed by the glossy tousle of his hair, every bit as inky-black as the collar it skimmed, his stunning silvery-grey irises, ringed by a darker border of charcoal, looked even more striking than usual.

Especially as they were focused with such keen intensity on her.

‘Isn’t that considerate?’ she heard her mother say with a giggle. The words seemed to come from a great distance. ‘I’m so glad he came over. It’s been ages since I’ve seen him. We’ve been having such a lovely chat.’

Which was exactly what worried her. ‘How long have you been here?’

‘Not long.’ The way he smiled gave her the impression that he could sense her discomfort, which made her even more paranoid about what he’d been up to.

‘Well . . . I’ll quickly grab some things and we can go.’

‘I took the chance of bringing the bike, if that’s all right.’ Aidan released her. ‘And some kit for you to wear.’ He picked up a canvas bag from the table where two helmets also sat. Recognising the bag from the night he’d shown up to collect her from Cluny’s on his bike, she took it, knowing it contained a set of women’s leathers Aidan kept as spares.