Читать книгу Newlyweds Of Convenience - Jessica Hart - Страница 8

CHAPTER THREE

‘I GAVE Charlie a couple of biscuits, is that right?’ said Torr.

‘Er…yes…thanks.’

Mallory had to pull the duvet down over her mouth so that he could hear her.

‘And I said goodnight, told him to have a nice sleep, and that we’d see him in the morning, the way you always do.’

Forgetting her embarrassment in surprise, Mallory pulled herself up to stare at him. ‘How on earth do you know that?’

‘It’s your night-time ritual.’ Torr sat down on the edge of the bed, making it dip and creak, and pulled off his boots. ‘I’ve heard you talking to Charlie in the kitchen.’

He had been eavesdropping on her one-sided conversations with the dog all this time, and she had never known it! Mallory didn’t know whether to feel foolish or astounded that he had bothered to listen. ‘I suppose you think I’m a sentimental idiot?’

‘No,’ he said, yanking his thick Guernsey sweater over his head. ‘I like the way you give him so much attention.’

It’s more than you give me. The unspoken words seemed to echo round the room, as a brushed cotton shirt followed the sweater, and Mallory found her eyes resting on his broad, bare back before she remembered to yank her gaze away and huddle back down under the duvet. She wasn’t supposed to be gawping at the sight of husband undressing.

She just hoped that he wasn’t planning to sleep naked. She didn’t know how she would cope with that. But, no, when she peeped another glance, he was wearing high-tech thermal gear that looked as if it were top of the range for climbers. She should have realised that his experience on the hills would mean that he was much better prepared for the cold than she was. Walking Charlie required boots and a good waterproof jacket, but that was as far as her outdoor equipment went.

‘Thank you for taking him out,’ she said belatedly.

‘No problem. I like dogs.’

A silence loomed, and Mallory rushed to fill it. ‘Have you ever thought about having one?’ she asked, cringing a little at how breathless she sounded. If she carried on like this, Torr would guess how nervous she was.

‘I had a dog called Basher when I was a boy,’ Torr told her as he got to his feet and crossed over to the light switch. ‘He was the best dog you could ever have. I could never replace him.’

‘I feel like that about Charlie.’

The room was plunged into blackness as Torr switched off the light, and the sound of the wind and the rain seemed to intensify in the dark. Mallory shivered and forced her mind back to dogs.

Torr was feeling his way back to the bed. ‘I never thought of you as a dog person,’ she said, in the same thin, high voice.

‘I could say the same of you.’

Annoyingly, Torr sounded exactly as normal. He pulled back the blankets on his side of the bed. ‘I’ve always thought Charlie is an odd sort of dog for you to have.’

Bedsprings creaked and the mattress dipped alarmingly under his weight, so that Mallory had to grab onto her side of bed to stop herself rolling towards him.

‘What do you mean, odd?’ she asked edgily, to take her mind off the fact that Torr was calmly getting into bed beside her.

‘I suppose I was thinking about that old adage that dogs look like their owners—or is it the other way round?’ He felt around for a pillow, and shifted his shoulders to make himself comfortable. ‘I would have expected you to be a cat person, or if you were going to have a dog that it would be a pedigree, something elegant and a little aloof—like a saluki, perhaps. Charlie is a nice dog,’ he said, ‘but he doesn’t fit with your image at all.’

‘What is my image?’ Mallory asked with a touch of irritation.

Torr thought about it. ‘Elegant,’ he said. ‘Stylish…sophisticated. Not like Charlie, in fact.’

‘That’s just the way I dress, not the way I am,’ she said sharply. ‘Why do you care whether Charlie fits with my image or not anyway?’

‘I don’t,’ said Torr, infuriatingly calm. ‘I was just trying to make conversation. I thought it might distract you from the fact that we were sharing a bed.’

It had, but now that he’d mentioned it his closeness was all too noticeable. They weren’t quite touching, but only because Mallory was clutching the edge of the mattress, and she was still burningly conscious of his warm solid form next to her. It reminded her all too vividly of their wedding night, when she had lain frozen with horror as Torr turned to her and the enormity of the mistake she had made hit her for the first time.

There was silence for a while. Mallory lay tensely, not wanting to move in case she brushed against him, but her foot was itching, and her legs felt cramped, so she moved them very carefully, hoping that Torr wouldn’t notice. Perhaps he had fallen asleep?

‘I hope you’re not going to twitch all night.’ His voice came out of the darkness and she started.

‘I’m not twitching! I’m just trying to get comfortable.’

‘I thought you were tired?’

‘I was, but I think I’ve got past it, and now I feel all wound up again.’ Mallory sighed and shifted restlessly. ‘Everything’s so strange. This weird place, the storm…you.’

‘I’m not strange,’ Torr pointed out. ‘I’m your husband.’

‘It’s strange being in bed with you.’

It was Torr’s turn to sigh. ‘You can relax,’ he said impatiently. ‘I’m not about to try and seduce you. I’ve already told you that I won’t lay a finger on you—unless you ask, of course,’ he added.

The mockery in his voice stung Mallory. ‘I can’t imagine that happening!’ she snapped.

‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Be hung up on Steve. He’s not worth it, but if you want to waste your life pining for a man who treated you the way he did, that’s your choice. I think you’re a fool, but I’m not going to waste my breath persuading you to change your mind. It’s up to you, Mallory. If you ever decide that you want a proper marriage, let me know, but until then we’ll carry on as we are. I’m not going to force you. I don’t even want you, knowing that you feel the way you do about Steve, so you’re quite safe from me.’

‘I know,’ she muttered, wishing he didn’t make her feel as if she were being stupid.

‘Good. Now, it’s been a long day and I’m tired even if you’re not, so let’s try and get some sleep.’ Torr turned onto his side, and the bedsprings protested as he made himself comfortable. ‘Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight.’

Clinging grimly to the edge of the mattress, Mallory willed herself to sleep, or, if not that, to keep still, but it was hard. Since Torr had climbed calmly into bed beside her an adrenalin rush of awareness and self-consciousness had kept her warm, but now that he had disposed of her nervousness so astringently, cold began to seep in through the layers of blankets. No matter how tightly she hugged the duvet around her neck, the draught through the window sent icy fingers creeping into the bed.

Outside, the wind howled while the rain was lashing the glass of the rickety old window in time-honoured fashion. The blackness was extraordinary. At home, there was always the glow of streetlamps, and a faint orange haze hung over the city, no matter how dark the night. She was used to the sounds of the street—heels on a pavement, laughter and arguments, cars, distant sirens. It was never completely quiet, just as it was never completely dark.

But here… It was hardly quiet, with the storm battering at the castle, but the blackness was total. Mallory wished that she had suggested Charlie sleep in the room too. He tended to snort and snuffle in his sleep, and sometimes he could be a bit whiffy, but at least she would have known that he was there.

There was Torr, of course. If only she knew him better. If only they were friends she could cuddle into him and confess that she was cold and lonely and scared. But that would only make him think that she was even more pathetic than he clearly already did.

An exasperated sigh came out of the darkness. ‘For God’s sake, Mallory, stop fidgeting!’

‘I’m cold,’ she said sullenly.

With a muttered exclamation, Torr turned over and with one brisk movement pulled Mallory into the curve of his body.

‘What are you doing?’ she protested breathlessly, taken unawares.

‘I’m trying to get some sleep,’ he said, his crisp voice at variance with his warm, relaxed body, ‘and I’m clearly not going to get any with you either shivering with cold or vibrating away like a tuning fork because you feel tense.’

‘Obviously I was right to feel tense,’ muttered Mallory, making a token effort to wriggle against the firmness of his grip, until she realised that she was effectively snuggling closer to him. ‘I thought you weren’t going to lay a finger on me?’

‘I meant for the purposes of seduction.’ Torr adjusted his arm so that it fitted comfortably under her neck. His other arm lay over her waist, holding her into him. ‘In case you were wondering, this is not seduction. This is strategy in the interests of a good night’s sleep. We’re going to roll together some time on this mattress, so we might as well get it over with. We can’t spend all night hanging onto the edge of the bed.’

That was precisely what Mallory had been planning, but it didn’t seem like such a good idea now that she was getting warm. Her heart was thudding still, but there was a strange comfort, too, in the hard, solid body behind her, the powerful arm over her. She could feel Torr’s chest rising and falling steadily, and his breath stirred her hair. The storm seemed muted now, the cold less menacing, and the exhaustion which tension had kept at bay rolled over her once more.

‘I’m not sure this is a good idea.’ She managed a last protest, but it sounded feeble even to her own ears.

‘Maybe it isn’t, but we’ll worry about that in the morning,’ said Torr. His voice was deep, and very close to her ear, and an inexplicable frisson snaked its way down Mallory’s spine. ‘In the meantime,’ he went on, in distinctly unloverlike tones, ‘will you please shut up and go to sleep?’

Mallory opened her eyes to find herself blinking at a grimy wall. Blearily, she rolled over, but the view was no better on her back. An equally dirty ceiling and a naked lightbulb dangling from a frayed cord.

Kincaillie. Memories from the night before seeped back as she pulled herself up onto the pillows and pushed the dark, tangled hair away from her face. Driving endlessly through the dark. The wind shrieking like a banshee. Stumbling along that nightmarish passage.

Torr pulling off his shirt to reveal a broad, smooth back.

Mallory’s mind stumbled at the memory and a tiny frown creased between her brows. Why remember that out of all the trauma of the night before?

The bitter cold… She could hardly forget that either, she thought, hurrying on mentally, or the terrifying feeling that the storm was about to burst through the window into the suffocating blackness. It was a wonder she had managed to sleep at all.