She keeps it together as she takes the first-aid kit from Nicole, bandages Ash’s hand. He holds very still, saying nothing. Like he knows she needs to do it, to reassure herself. He only speaks when she backs away.
‘You’re shaking,’ he murmurs, taking one of her hands in his uninjured one.
She swallows. ‘I told you – I’m not that great in medical emergencies.’
‘You did okay. Hey.’ He tightens his grip on her hand, because alarmingly, horribly, tears are stinging her eyes. ‘I’m okay, Liss,’ he says gently.
But is she? She can hear ringing in her ears, a warning sign of an anxiety attack. And who can blame her for those? Of course she has a bloody health anxiety complex – she’s died several times before.
Her breathing is getting faster as Ash moves to her, then slowly wraps both his arms around her. She lets out a shuddering breath as he runs a hand down her back, and inhales the earthy, woody scent of him.
‘I’m okay,’ he murmurs again. ‘You’re okay.’ Because he doesn’t let go, she allows her head to rest on his shoulder, allows herself to close her eyes. And feels her heartbeat settle to the rhythm of his.
He eases back, just a few centimetres. His fingers come up to trail a path down her face. Her breathing hitches for an entirely different reason when they reach her jaw, and he notices the sound, his gaze flashing to her mouth again, this time with more intent.
Her arms have come around him too, she notices, and she moves them up his back to rest on his lovely broad shoulders. She tips her head back, waits for his gaze to meet hers. And feels that pleasant pull inside her as his pupils darken.
Then Nicole comes into the kitchen, making them jump apart like they’ve been caught in the act rather than, really, standing here completely innocently.
‘All okay in here?’ Nicole asks. ‘Do I need to drive anyone to A&E?’
‘All good,’ Lissa says, looking away from Ash. ‘Thank you.’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Ash repeats. ‘And I’m sorry. Maybe playing with glass bottles is a bad idea.’
Lissa wonders if Nicole will be cross – it could have been her daughter who was injured, after all. But she’s smiling. ‘Mm. Think I heard that somewhere. There’s a burger outside for both of you when you’re ready.’ And with that, she steps back through the sliding doors.
Lissa clears her throat. ‘Well, I suppose we’d better get back out there …’
He grabs her hand when she turns to leave. ‘Come away with me.’
‘What?’
‘Next month. Let’s go somewhere for a weekend.’
Her pulse skitters. ‘Why?’ she asks, before she can think better of it.
He laughs a little. ‘Because I like you.’ So easy. ‘Because we get on. Because it’ll be fun.’
She stares at him, feeling her heart drum against her ribcage, a prickle of something – nerves? Anticipation? Warning? – running down her spine.
‘Come on, Liss,’ he says, and his fingers move from her hand to trail up her forearm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. ‘What have you got to lose?’
Is this what Saskia saw in her cards? The Knight of Cups issuing an invitation. A choice she’ll have to make. And a leap of faith.
She takes a deep breath. ‘Okay.’
She loves it, the way light flares in his eyes. ‘Okay? Really?’
She laughs, squeezes his hand. ‘Yes. Really.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lissa wakes as Ash pulls the car onto a gravel driveway, and surreptitiously tries to wipe the drool off the corner of her mouth. She blinks, feeling disoriented as she glances around. Ahead of them is a grey stone cottage that looks to her like it’s standing right on top of a cliff. Close enough to make her wonder if it will still be here in a few years’ time, or if it will fall, piece by piece, into the ocean below, as waves and wind and salt eat away at it. The definition of living on the edge.
Beyond the cottage she can see the ocean, stretching out to the horizon over the grey and green cliff, a beautiful turquoise blue under the clear sky and shining sun. In the distance, a few white boats bob on the waves, a picture-perfect image of the Cornish coastline.
She glances at Ash as he switches off the engine – and with it, the air conditioning. ‘Sorry I fell asleep.’
