But all he said was, ‘Whoever it is, he’s made two attempts to get this file, and I wouldn’t bet against him making a third. That’s why I’m staying here with you tonight.’
Kate glared at him and opened her mouth to protest but he raised his right hand decisively and snapped, ‘No! Whatever you’re going to say; don’t! Unless you move out I’m staying here until all this is sorted out, and the only way you’ll remove me is by calling the police. And even then they’ll have to drag me out by force. And even then I’ll simply park myself outside your door and follow you everywhere until we know what the hell is going on. And that’s the end of it.’
Kate opened her month to roast him for his presumption but instead somehow found herself saying, with silky malice, ‘And what will the lovely Rachel think of that?’
He looked startled for a moment but then said grimly, ‘I really don’t give a shit!’ He held her gaze and said grimly, ‘Rachel stopped meaning anything to me a very long time ago and you bloody well know it. So don’t pretend to be jealous of her now. This is too serious for games. Your life could be at risk here.’
Even the idea of mortal danger couldn’t deflect Kate and her lip curled as she said, ‘It looked like she meant nothing to you the other day, all right. Walking around town, arm-in-arm…why were you even with her? And what about your little trip to Sligo? Don’t tell me you were alone!’
He looked at her in astonishment, unable to fathom this diversion into the trivial, ‘I didn’t think you’d care in the slightest who I saw, to be honest. But yes, actually, I was alone. Remember my Uncle Ernie’s deserted cottage?’
She did, only too well; it was bleak and lonely and isolated, and didn’t even have any electricity or running water. And they had spent one of the best weeks of their lives together there, two summers before.
‘I went there. Alone. To think, I suppose, and to try and get you out of my system for once and for all.’
She raised her eyebrows and asked innocently, ‘Any luck with that?’
He laughed aloud, ‘You always were something of a bitch! So I’m not telling you. But I’m not kidding when I say you’ll have to have me arrested to get me out of here. I couldn’t live with myself if I left you here alone and anything happened. I never said anything but I suffered over that whole Straub thing too, you know. I never mentioned it because it was nothing compared to what you went through, but it tormented me. All I could think was why did I go out that day? Why didn’t I go home earlier? Why, why, why…I’m not going through all that again. I’d never forgive myself if something happened that I could have prevented.’
Kate remained silent; in the aftermath she had asked herself those same questions, and even once or twice blamed Peter for her ordeal, for not being there to protect her. Though only in her darkest moments. Yet she had never once considered how it had all made him feel. Had she been born selfish or was it a talent she had developed, something she had worked on? Not that it mattered now; that was all ancient history. But still, since coming home she had learned a lot about herself, none of it good.
She got to her feet, perhaps to order him out of her home. But when he stood up too, stubbornness written all over his face, she stepped forward and quietly rested her head against his broad chest instead. And closed her eyes as his arms wrapped around her in a vast embrace that threatened to smother her but somehow didn’t. It never had.
After standing like that for a long, blessed moment in which she had nothing to fear and nothing to worry about, nothing even to think about, she opened her eyes and lifted her face to his. He accepted her silent invitation and kissed her, hard, and then somehow they were lying on the thick rug in front of the dead fire, with a fire of quite another sort flaring up inside both of them. He opened the buttons of her blouse and kissed her neck and her breasts before flicking his tongue gently over her erect nipples. Kate closed her eyes in pleasure and hungrily thrust her pelvis against him as she slid her hands down his back to grip his buttocks tightly before sliding around to the front of his jeans, unbuckling his belt and pulling down the zipper.
He gave a soft growl low in his throat and pulled away enough to raise her skirt over her slim legs. Her panties were just a wisp of silk and it was the work of a second for him to whip them off, making her half-close her eyes and smile lazily as she in turn popped open his shirt buttons, lightly scratching his chest with her long nails as she did so. They kissed again, hard, and then somehow he was inside her, huge and hard and hot, and her hands were clawing his back rather than stroking it as she moaned against his throat, biting him gently. They moved together slowly, then quickly, and then slowly again, and it seemed to last forever and yet it was blindingly quick too, and as they came together she closed her eyes again and hugged him fiercely, feeling safe and warm under his bulk, feeling protected and good. As if nothing could touch her. The way he always made her feel. A way she had not felt in far too long.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The next morning Kate woke up with a welcome and, these days, unusual sense of wellbeing. In fact, she was filled with a warm, comfortable, voluptuous feeling and, astonishingly, she felt happy. At least she thought so; it had been so long she wasn’t sure she recognised the sensation. She raised her arms and stretched in the bed like a cat, smiling as her arm rubbed against the warm wall of Peter’s back; the double bed didn’t seem nearly as big as usual, and that was just fine by her. She raised herself onto one elbow and looked down at Peter’s sleeping form, momentarily contemplating waking him up in a naughty fashion; last night had been so good that she wanted more. But then she reluctantly turned away and slipped out of the bed; better let him get some rest. Certainly she hadn’t allowed him much the night before.
She made her way naked into the bathroom, the half-smile on her face refusing to go away. After that first, passionately intense time, Peter had carried her into the bedroom and laid her gently down on the bed. They had curled up together and talked for a while, though not about anything important; both were all too aware that meaningful discussion could easily become debate or, worse, an argument. So they both stuck to the kind of vague, drowsy chat that usually led to sleep. Except this time it had led to more sex. And very good it had been too; long and slow and luxurious, until they had teased each other so much that neither could wait another second. Then the pace had speeded to a most welcome crescendo. That had always been one of Peter’s best attributes as a lover; he could read her moods, and usually knew what she wanted at any given time. And later, they had made love for yet a third time, an occurrence Peter had laughing ascribed to the fact that he had not been with a woman since their split-up. This revelation had pleased her even as it made her feel horribly guilty. That had been the time to tell him about Michael, if ever, but she had remained silent. Not even so much to deceive him as from a reluctance to spoil the mood. The magic, even. Or so she told herself.
She had eventually however, and painfully, asked him if he had read the newspaper articles about herself and the Minister, because she knew that even if by some miracle he hadn’t someone would tell him about them. Because someone always does. Particularly now, when the attack in Trinity had brought her straight back into the media spotlight. As it happened he hadn’t read them, but friend Rachel had, and had gleefully told him all about it. To Kate’s relief he had shown little interest, knowing all too well what most newspapers, and reporters, are like. She had made it clear to him that her torn blouse was just a minor accident that the Press had twisted to make themselves a story. She had also told him of the rage and disgust she had felt, and he had listened sympathetically, comforting her by gently stroking her face and head. And it was all more or less true; she simply hadn’t told him that she and Michael had had sex on their first date. Or that they had even had a date. And indeed there was no reason to; they hadn’t been together when she and Michael had slept together; he hadn’t even been in the country. So why did she feel like such a lying shit?
Kate stood u
nder the hot shower, her mood changing. When all was said and done the sex, however good, was just that and nothing more. Nothing between herself and Peter had really changed; they had always been good in bed together, and the time spent apart had simply made them hungrier than ever for each other’s bodies. But having sex was not a reconciliation, and it didn’t mean that she was going to change her mind and marry him. She had just needed him right then, that was all. Needed not just the sex, but to be cared for and wrapped in the arms of someone she knew loved her, would die for her. She just hoped that Peter wouldn’t assume they were resuming their old relationship.
She finished her shower and began brushing her teeth, her head bent over the sink and her rear stuck out invitingly. So when Peter came into the bathroom behind her he was unable to resist slapping her firmly on the rump, making her squeal and shoot upright. She spat toothpaste into the sink and turned to slap him back. ‘You rotten pig!’ she snapped, pretending anger where she felt only lo…affection, she felt affection. ‘That hurt!’
He put his arms around her and gave her a long kiss before murmuring, ‘No, it didn’t; don’t lie. Mmm, you taste all minty.’
‘Well, you don’t,’ she pushed him away with feigned disgust, ‘Brush your teeth and shower, and I just might reward you with breakfast.’
He held her tighter still and looked off into the distance, a thoughtful expression on his unshaven face, ‘You know what I could just fancy for breakfast...?’
Kate laughed and slapped him again, gently this time, ‘No, I’ve too much to do today. Go on, wash! There are disposable razors there, so you can have a shave too. You know I hate stubble.’
‘And who might the razors belong to, I wonder?’ he asked, his expression innocent but his eyes as sharp as the razors in question.
She made a face and pulled away, heading for the door, ‘My legs, actually.’ She paused in the doorway and watched him stepping into the shower, ‘And Peter?’
He looked back inquiringly.
‘Thank you. For caring, and for being here when I needed someone.’
He gave her an arrogant grin and said, ‘Not someone, babe, you needed me! And there’s no need to thank me, I quite enjoyed it myself.’ He snapped back the curtain before she could respond and turned on the hot water, whistling loudly and anything but tunefully. Kate smiled and shook her head; she had forgotten what an idiot he was. But nice to have around. She walked out into the kitchen but then a thought struck her and she returned and flushed the toilet, eliciting a roar of pain from the other side of the curtain as the hot water suddenly became very hot water. Just to show him what was what.
By the time Kate had dressed he had finished his shower and was prowling around the kitchen, banging cupboard doors in a fruitless search for food. Still naked, he stood in the bedroom doorway and looked in at Kate, seated in front of her vanity mirror putting the finishing touches to her make-up. He raised his eyebrows and said, ‘So much for promising me brekkie. That’s the cleanest kitchen I’ve ever seen. Especially the inside of the fridge; you couldn’t give breakfast to a cockroach. I know you watch your weight but have you abandoned eating altogether?’
She smiled at him in the mirror, ‘By your standards, perhaps. But then, not all of us can eat an entire pig for breakfast.’
He gave her his hurt expression, ‘I’m a growing lad and need sustenance. Do you fancy having something out? A nice greasy fry-up, perhaps?
Kate shook her head, ‘I can’t, I’ve got too much to do. First of all I have to visit Sean, and then I want to have another session with Grainne Riordan. Remember, my patient? And I have a lecture at three so I can’t hang about. My car’s still in town, too, so I have to pick that up on the way. Can you give me a lift in?’
‘Of course. I’m going to be sticking pretty close to you over the next few days.’
Kate put her powder brush down and turned to face him, ‘Pete, I’m grateful to you for being there for me last night, and for caring, but that doesn’t mean anything has changed. And I don’t want you getting the wrong idea. The differences that caused us to split up in the first place are still there. And they aren’t going to go away.’
He walked over and kneeled down in front of her, his nudity giving her ideas of her own and making her shift uncomfortably. He touched her cheek, ‘Life can’t be all bad when beautiful women thank you for a having a night of sex with them. Listen, let’s just forget everything for the next few days. All the past, all the rows…everything. Let’s just relax and enjoy being together, at least until this maniac is caught. My being here is about protecting you, not winning you back. I told you I had accepted our split-up, and I have. Now I just want to be with you until I go back to Dorset. Okay?’
Kate smiled at him, suppressing a pang at the thought of him leaving to resume his single life in England. Or perhaps at his ready acceptance that they were still finished, that this was just a meaningless interlude. She lowered her eyes and said, ‘Okay. But that doesn’t mean you can become my shadow. I can’t have you following me about all day.’
‘I don’t see why not,’ he replied simply, ‘If you’re in danger I should be close by. And you are in danger.’
She shook her head, ‘We decided that the guy was after my case the other night, not me, remember? Besides, I’m not a child and I’m not going to have you following me everywhere.’
‘Alright, but I will be here every night.’ He smiled but his expression was determined, ‘Even if you kick me out of your bed I can still use the sofa. But I don’t want you alone at night. So if you need to work late give me a call and I’ll stay in your office with you. And for God’s sake make sure you’re never alone in an isolated place.’
Under normal circumstances Kate might have resented his protectiveness, but the situation was far from normal and she smiled and said, ‘I’m not an idiot, you know! I’ll make damn sure there are always people around, just in case. And I’d like to have you here at night.’ Her eyelids drooped and her smile widened, ‘Even though I’m really just using you for sex.’
He kissed the tip of her nose, ‘Yeah, well, I’m using you too. That’s what people who love each other do. It’s the mutual part that makes it okay. That and the caring.’
‘Wow, you’ve been studying Cosmo again, haven’t you?’ she said with wide-eyed mock surprise, pretending to be impressed, ‘Trying to become a new-age man, are you? Just don’t go all metrosexual on me; I couldn’t have a man around who uses more beauty products than I do.’ She got to her feet, ‘I really have to get moving. Come on, get dressed. You can worry about food later.’
He began pulling on his clothes and Kate watched, thinking it rather a shame. Perhaps... But no, she really didn’t have time. Though God knows she had missed him for long enough, had missed his weight on top of her, pushing her down into the mattress but never crushing her. Her heart contracted suddenly in her chest and that hateful little voice said, What are you playing at? You finally got him out of your life and now you’re letting him straight back in! How will you ever get rid of him a second time? If you needed sex, or protection, you could have picked Michael.
She tried to shut the voice up but it would not be quiet. The simple truth was that she hadn’t wanted Michael, for sex or as a bodyguard. She had wanted Peter. Possibly because he had saved her before; Kate had always considered herself a feminist but she had suffered too much at the hands of Straub to worry about principles when danger threatened. Such an experience tended to alter one’s perception, and banish any thoughts of physical equality, at least. Kate gave a mental shrug as Peter combed his hair; okay, me cavewoman, need caveman! It was easy to be brave until death actually stared you in the face. Kate knew some women who practiced martial arts or boxing, and who could defend themselves, but physical aggression was alien to her, and the idea of hurting someone else was almost as unpleasant as being hurt by them. Almost.
Peter put on his jacket, ‘Ready?’
Kate got to her feet, ‘Ready,
Tarzan! Take Jane swinging through jungle and see her safely to watering hole!’
He laughed and slipped an arm around her, revelling in the way her hip curved sharply into her slender waist, and the feel of her body pressing against his. He kissed the top of her head and said, ‘You know why I fell for you in the first place? Because you’re nuttier than any of your patients!’ And he slipped away and made for the front door before she could wreak any revenge.
Their mutual good mood was dispelled the instant they set foot outside the front door, however, as both had forgotten the reporters lurking beyond. As soon as they appeared cameras started flashing and questions were flung at them like hail. Grim-faced, they ignored the reporters and the shouted questions as Peter cleared a path for her to his car. They got in and drove off without comment, with Kate’s ears ringing with the words, ‘Who’s the big guy then, Katie, a bodyguard or a new fella? Does Michael Riordan know about him, know he stayed the night?’
How dare they? The nosy bastards! Fortunately Peter either had not noticed or else had sense enough not to go into it just then. They completed their journey in silence, with Kate staring mutely out the window and bitterly regretting ever having had anything to do with Michael. Rather than have him drive her to her car Kate had Peter drop her at the hospital, though she was not hopeful of being allowed to see Sean. And in this she was correct, as the actually rather charming Ward Sister did indeed turn her away, saying that although out of danger the policeman was not yet well enough to receive visitors. Kate left the bunch of flowers she bought in the hospital shop with the Sister and left the hospital, ruefully thinking that she should have made Peter wait for her after all. As it was she would now have to get a taxi to her car. A bus being, to anyone who knew Dublin, quite out of the question; the only function buses served was to cause traffic jams and choke pedestrians with diesel fumes. The idea of anyone actually using them as a mode of transport was ridiculous, of course, unless that person had absolutely no other option and a large amount of free time on their hands.
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