Melting Ms Frost (39 page)

‘In his case it took nearly a year of sheer determination for him to overcome the paralysis and regain a degree of mobility. And another year after that until he was fully self-sufficient again. That was the time frustration made him truly horrible – as fractious and impatient as a toddler, as sullen and stroppy as a teenager.’

‘Two years. So long?’

‘Yeah. And every day was a battle for him.’ Ciara started dividing her hair into sections. ‘To start with we all feared the paralysis would be permanent, that he’d have to stay at home for constant care. But he was insistent that he’d recover, that he’d get back to independence. He wouldn’t let us sell this place, even though it sat empty for all that time. He wanted to keep his options open.’

Annabel closed her eyes. To meet Aidan, you’d never guess what he’d been through. With his mind so sharp, and his body – not an ounce of flab or hint of weakness to signify how wasted his muscles must have become during that time he’d been incapacitated. It wasn’t until you got to know him that you discovered how much more lay behind that gorgeous crooked smile, that sexy tousle of hair.

Behind her, Ciara sprayed on the powdery substance, section by section, then brushed the whole lot through before gathering it up to begin plaiting it again.

‘Oh, is this your natural colour?’ she asked as Annabel felt the brush pass over the wisps of hair at the nape of her neck. Ever mindful of her budget, she home-coloured and so didn’t always get perfect coverage at the back.

Ciara didn’t wait for her reply. ‘It’s beautiful. No wonder my brother is smitten. Redheads have always been his weakness.’

Annabel blushed, thinking that he did seem to be particularly fond of the colour of a certain other set of curls. But
smitten
?

‘That’s his usual type then, is it?’ She hated herself for asking, for feeling the need to fish for information. ‘Redheads?’

‘Usual? No, not at all. More like his ideal. His ultimate.’ Ciara’s hands were busy weaving and then slowed as though her attention turned elsewhere. ‘In fact, I don’t think he has a usual. He’s always been choosy.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. He’s never had a shortage of female attention – well, no surprise, you know yourself what he looks like. Those eyes alone had pretty much the entire female population of County Cork swooning in his wake, not to mention the most popular girls vying for his attention. Caitlin and I always had a sneaking suspicion that we were only so popular with the other girls at school so they could get close enough to throw themselves at his feet.’

Annabel gave a soft snort. ‘That would explain his –’ she only just stopped herself saying
arrogance
‘– confidence.’

‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But it never really went to his head. Unlike most hormonally charged teenage boys he refused to take advantage of everything offered to him, and he was very protective of all of us too – policed any boy that came near the house. Maybe growing up surrounded by females gave him a sense of respect that most boys lacked. As far as I know he’s never been involved with anyone unless he’s serious about them. He’s always had a calm intensity about him that makes him kind of an all or nothing guy.’

An all or nothing guy. Annabel couldn’t think of a more perfect description for Aidan Flynn.

Ciara smoothed the braid down her back. ‘There, all done. Would you like another coffee?’

‘As long as I can make it,’ Annabel insisted. ‘I’m sick of being useless.’

By the time she’d finished drinking her second mug, she’d learned quite a bit more about Aidan. After phoning the hospital to check on her mother, she visited the bathroom, and began to feel taxed and sore enough that another horse pill didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all. Climbing back into bed while she waited for it to take the edge off, she drifted into sleep.

The following morning Annabel was back at the hospital to have her permanent cast fitted and visit with her mother. Although she’d insisted that she was fine to go alone, Aidan was just as insistent on accompanying her. Apart from offering a few grumbles to satisfy her sense of independence, she didn’t really fight that hard to dissuade him – in all honesty she was still feeling a bit shaken and it was nice to have him around.

Very
nice, she discovered later when, instead of being ferried straight back to Aidan’s, she found herself detoured to a hairdressing salon where she got the shampoo she’d been hankering after, although her still tender head meant she had to pass up the rigours of a sleek blow dry in favour of a rough dry. The resulting fluffy curls seemed to fascinate Aidan, who teased them with his fingers for the entire cab ride back to his apartment.

‘I hear you have a particular thing for redheads,’ Annabel said.

Aidan looked at her, his black brows raising. ‘Ciara?’

She smirked and nodded. ‘Ciara.’

He hooked an arm around the back of her shoulders and pressed himself closer to her whilst sliding the palm of his other hand up her thigh, stopping just short of her groin.

‘You didn’t need her to tell you that, surely? I thought I’d made it quite obvious.’ He pushed his mouth to her ear and lowered his voice to murmur throatily. ‘Especially the preference I have for
natural
redheads.’

Annabel tried not to squirm at the feel of his lightly circling fingertips.

He pulled back to look at her hair. ‘Tell me, after what you said the other night about the way you were taunted for it, I’ve been curious – why hide red with red?’

‘I’m not. I’m hiding bright orange with red. There’s a difference.’

He leaned into her again, resumed his circling. ‘Mmm. I’ve seen the difference – bright and fiery and beautiful.’

She couldn’t help but melt against him with a sigh. Stroking her hair, he held her against him for the rest of the journey.

Not long after their return a bouquet of flowers arrived for her from Richard Landon.

‘He’s knows I’m staying here?’ she asked with something akin to panic, but once Aidan had assured her that Richard, and only Richard, knew for the sake of necessity, she soon found her concern outweighed by the novelty. She’d never received flowers before.

A whole raft of emotions assailed her. It was shocking to discover how easily she could let herself fall into all the warmth and togetherness, the caring and sharing. But she needed to remember that this wasn’t her life. It was a temporary situation born of extreme circumstances, a situation that wouldn’t exist in the normal scheme of things. It was because she was shaken, susceptible, that it seemed so seductive – all the more reason not to prolong it. She should get back to reality, let Aidan get his life back too. As patient and empathetic as he was, it couldn’t be much fun for him to have to play nursemaid to a woman he barely knew. She was on the mend, no longer needing care. There was no reason for her to stay and get comfortable with things she couldn’t have, shouldn’t need to rely on.

As Aidan made to leave for the evening shift at Cluny’s, she announced that she’d be going home tomorrow, although she didn’t fancy the thought of the mess that awaited her there.

‘I need to get back to work, too,’ she said. ‘I’ll hide out the back in the office,’ she added, not missing the look he gave the cuts and bruises to her face.

All he said was, ‘Let’s see how you get on tonight.’

And as it turned out, the night was horrid. Her new cast felt tight, the skin beneath it prickling with discomfort, leaving her tossing and turning alone in Aidan’s bed. She’d insisted on coming off the heavy painkillers in favour of a standard over-the-counter option but found that the lighter meds meant more pain and less sleep. And lighter sleep meant dreams – nightmares of violence and panic and choking fear.

She awoke gasping and sweating in the dark to find Aidan back from work, a warm, solid presence beside her in the bed.

‘I’ve got you,’ he murmured. ‘You’re safe. I’ve got you.’ His voice soothing and velvety in the darkness, relaxing her back into slumber.

But it was only the start of a long night of broken sleep. Not even his assurances or the comforting heat of his strong body curled lightly around her were enough to keep the dream demons at bay. It wasn’t until dawn that they both succumbed to exhaustion.

Annabel didn’t surface until late in the afternoon, finding herself alone again, with a note from Aidan telling her that he’d gone to work. She huffed at being left behind. He’d known she wanted to get back to Cluny’s today. Grabbing her phone, she messaged him.

I don’t appreciate you making my decisions for me. You were supposed to wake me for work.

She thought about trying to rush to make it in for the evening service at least, only to realise that she had no suitable work clothes with her anyway. She huffed some more.

A reply came in a short time later.
Hello to you too. Feeling better I assume?

Well enough not to have to put up with his sarcasm
. Changing the subject won’t change the fact that you have absolutely no right to make choices on my behalf!

I’m going to take that as a yes. You were certainly starting to sound more like your old self when I tried to wake you and you told me to fuck off. Twice.

She paused for a moment to take that in
. Ah. That was real? I thought it was a dream.
She hit send, then as an afterthought followed up with a
Sorry?

He replied,
I took it to mean you needed more sleep
.
And after last night, maybe you’ll consider staying at my place a little longer, just in case.

The offer surprised her, given how snappy she’d been, and for once she didn’t even think of putting up any resistance. The thought of coping with those nightmares while surrounded by the devastation Tony had wrought held no appeal whatsoever.

After she sent a further message accepting his offer of another night’s board, she phoned the hospital to check on her mother and began making a list of things she’d need to start sorting with regard to insurance, repairs, replacements.

A while later Aidan responded.
Good. Another night with you in my bed is no hardship, Annabel, trust me.

After what he’d had to put up with last night, she knew that couldn’t be entirely true.

In case you’re asleep when I get back, the police have been in touch to say they need to interview you again. Tomorrow morning if possible. Nothing to worry about, clarification on a few points. I’ve arranged for them to come to my place for 10am.

She wondered why the police were bothering Aidan instead of coming to her direct, then remembered that he’d given them his own number as part of her contact details at the hospital. Now that her phone had been retrieved from the mess of her flat, she’d have to remedy the situation with them in the morning. One of many steps she needed to start taking to get control of her life back.

When Aidan came home late from a busy shift, dog-tired but still too wound up to crash, he discovered that Annabel wasn’t asleep. Far from it. Wearing one of his shirts, unbuttoned to show an inviting amount of cleavage, she sat pert and alert in his bed, looking like the perfect ending to his day.

Which was why he needed to get away from her as quickly as possible.

‘You do look better. How are you feeling?’ he asked, stooping over the mattress to brush a quick kiss of greeting against her lips. He got the answer when he felt her open beneath him – nearly lost his resolve to walk away when she brought that sweet, warm tongue into play. Forcing himself to pull back, he wished her goodnight and got out of there while he could.

Pouring himself a healthy shot of single malt, he flopped onto the end of the sofa, one hand clutching the glass to his chest, the other hanging loose from the end of the upholstered arm. Legs sprawled, he closed his eyes and let his head fall heavily back against the oversized cushions.

Friday tomorrow – and a busy weekend to get through before he got a day off. Not only had he found himself sleeping lightly with Annabel here, his body keenly aware of hers, his senses alert to her unguarded noises of discomfort and distress in the night, but his waking hours had been somewhat taxing too – spent trying to do whatever he could to help her without actually looking like he was doing too much. Being a sneak was surprisingly hard work.

Given the upheaval to his life, he should be looking forward to her going home, but when she’d mentioned doing just that yesterday, relief had been the last thing he’d felt. As unplanned and disruptive as the situation was, he found he liked having Ms Frost in his home, in his space and in his bed. Places that no woman had occupied seriously for a long time, places whose sudden and total invasion he should have resented.

Yet he didn’t resent any of it. He welcomed it on all sorts of levels. Despite his efforts to keep to his own side of the mattress to avoid knocking her injuries, he found that every time he woke, he’d be wrapped around Annabel again, as though even in sleep he craved the touch of her. And the touch made him crave more, too.

God, the things he wanted to do to her – would be doing to her if she weren’t injured. Her reactions to the testing teases he’d tried out in Vienna had left him little doubt that there was a well of latent desires embedded deep in her psyche that maybe even she didn’t know about. If he tapped that reservoir right, he reckoned that eventually Ms Frost would let him dive a long way down into the tenebrous depths before calling ‘stop’.

A soft noise had his eyes springing open. Speak of the devil. Annabel stood before him, barefoot and beautiful in the lamplight, and with another damn button of his shirt undone – the very epitome of temptation on earth.

‘I want to apologise for earlier,’ she said, looking contrite and cautious and adorably uncomfortable with it. ‘For being a bitch. I’m – I’m not very good at this …’ She stalled, a frown of frustration creasing her brow as though she couldn’t find the right words to express herself. With a huff, she settled for, ‘I’m used to having to think only for myself.’

Of course she was. But that little acknowledgement of self-awareness gave him hope that things could change.