‘What happened down there?’ But before Alex could answer he stalked towards the house as if he had taken a personal grudge against it. ‘Every bloody door in the house shut up fast, like they were bolted from inside. This one and the kitchen. Thekeys wouldn’t work, nothing. I had to smash a window in the boot room round the back to get in. And then I heard you in the cellar, but I couldn’t find the two of you.’
‘Maeve said she came through the cellar. There was a hole in the wall down there.’
‘Yeah, I found it but I couldn’t get through. She must have wriggled in like a rabbit. How did you find that door? I never knew it was there. It looked like it hadn’t been opened in decades.’
He yanked the front door to the house open so hard that Alex feared, old and heavy as it was, it might come right off the hinges. Nick wasn’t just scared. He was angry too. And that made for a bad combination.
‘Nick…’ She didn’t know how to tell him any of this. She’d seen his wife. Theo had come to get her, called herlove… How did she even begin? She was just going to make everything worse.
When she touched his shoulder, the muscles were knotted and tense. He shuddered at her touch and then froze.
‘Is this my fault?’ he asked tentatively.
Hisfault? How could this be his fault?
‘I don’t think so. I think…I think it’s the temple in the notebook. Chambers’ temple. To that thing.’
He hesitated again, as if reluctant to ask any more. But in the end, he clearly couldn’t help himself. ‘Maeve said you saved Sally.’
‘I think she tried to sacrifice herself to save us first. And then…Theo came…’
Nick hung his head and said nothing for a moment. Alex waited. She had to. Part of her wished she hadn’t said anything at all. She was an idiot.
‘He would,’ he whispered at last, his voice cracking. ‘Of course he would… Thank you. Both of you.’
‘Nick?’
But he looked up again and Alex found herself trapped by those eyes, the mix of green deep in the brown, the flecks of gold. The lights from inside the house caught the glow in them. Her hand came to rest on his chest. She couldn’t help it. Nick’s closed over it, so much bigger, stronger, like something she wanted to cling to.
His lips parted and, the next thing Alex knew, he kissed her. It wasn’t like before. Not like in the study, when she’d felt out of control and desperate. Or in the drawing room, when the wild had engulfed them both. This was deep and gentle, a careful invitation. She couldn’t help but respond. But even as she let herself be swept up in it, in the closeness of him, the warmth, that heady scent, in the soft groan that came rumbling up from his chest, he broke the kiss.
His hand trailed down the side of her face and he frowned. There was heartbreak in those eyes now.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said abruptly and pulled away. ‘I shouldn’t. I?—’
He pushed the door open and went inside. Alex closed it carefully behind her and then followed him into the kitchen, ignoring the study for now. The cellar door still stood open and Nick stopped at the top of the stairs as if steeling himself for another confrontation.
‘Take a moment,’ she told him. ‘Please. It’s been a lot. And it’s getting dark outside.’
The wind was rising. She could hear it rattling around the house. The storm was coming in fast.
‘Maybe you’re right. But we do need to sort that window in the boot room first with the weather turning. Hang on here. I’ll get my tools.’
He left by the back door and returned in minutes, trailing the wind and rain behind him. He had some pieces of wood and Alex helped him measure and cut them. She swept up sawdust whilehe hammered them into place over the narrow window at the side of the door. For good measure she cleaned up the broken glass as well. He must have smashed the small window pane and then reached through to open the door. He was lucky he hadn’t sliced open his arm in the process.
With the rising storm firmly outside the house, he seemed to unwind a little.
‘Tea,’ said Alex.
He gave a wavering smile and sat down at the table, their positions oddly reversed all of a sudden. His broad frame looked out of place as she slid past him but no more so than when he was handing her freshly baked goods or dishing up his wonderful meals. It was more that this time she was the one fetching mugs and milk, and setting the teapot down between them.
They both stared at it in silence. Both unwilling to broach the subject.
And then Alex remembered her phone, and Gabe, and the aborted call. Oh God, he’d be frantic by now.
‘Shit, hang on,’ she gasped and sprinted to the study.
The door to the undercroft still hung open like a gaping wound. She closed it firmly and dragged one of the armchairs against it for good measure. Just in case, she told herself. In case of what, she wasn’t sure.
