He heard her sharp intake of breath.
‘Sorry, did I hurt you?’ he asked.
‘Mmm,’ she muttered.
As he helped her to hobble through to the lounge, conscious of her warm skin and his fingers skimming underneath her left breast, Emily finally emerged, hovering in the doorway.
‘What happened? What was that noise?’ She clutched her throat like some 1940’s movie star posing in her nightgown. For a brief, puzzling moment it was like looking at a woman he’d never seen before.
‘Someone’s chucked a brick through the window,’ he said, steering Olivia towards the sofa.
He saw the two girls catch each other’s eye. Neither of them said a word. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Hestiffened. Funny they weren’t asking more questions, as if they knew more than they were admitting.
‘Emily, get a towel,’ he snapped, as Olivia sank into the cushioned seat. She dithered for a moment. ‘Now.’
She looked hurt but he didn’t care. He’d had enough of whatever game the two of them were playing. ‘And a bowl of warm water and cotton wool or tissues,’ he yelled after her departing back, as Olivia slumped against him.
Her teeth began to chatter and his anger dissolved. Capable, sensible Olivia looked done in, vulnerable and scared, her eyes meeting his and holding his gaze as if her life depended on it. Tonight he needed to focus on getting her to hospital. Tomorrow he’d be asking some questions.
* * *
My teeth began to chatter and I couldn’t stop the tremors shaking my muscles. There was a trail of crimson drops on the floor. My eyes were drawn to a wide smear across Daniel’s bare chest. Without thinking I touched the warm skin. The fine dusting of hair across his chest felt surprisingly soft and I didn’t want to move. For a second he went still, before putting his hand over mine.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked, his face softening.
I nodded, a huge lump in my throat.
‘Come on, let’s get you sorted. You need ice on that ankle. Then, I’m afraid it’s a definite Casualty job.’
The blood trickle from my arm slowed and was starting to congeal in an ugly puddle around the embedded glass.
‘I daren’t touch that.’ A gentle finger skirted around the wound as he spoke.
Despite the soreness of my arm, a small fizz of electricity followed his tender tracing. My heart did that funny miss-a-beatthing. Not now, I firmly told myself, staring fixedly down at the glass point. Talk about bad timing.
I sank into a chair. Thank God, Daniel had had the presence of mind to pull on some jeans. My pulse had speeded up even more at the sight of the smooth muscled abdomen right in front of my nose. It was rattling along like a runaway train. I couldn’t help my gaze following the direction of the dark arrow of coarser hair tapering down into the faded denim. If I didn’t get a grip I was going to have full-scale palpitations.
Emily reappeared, slopping water from a bowl as she hurried over. Her gaze narrowed as it came to rest on Daniel kneeling in front of me.
A timely reminder. Daniel was hers.
He glanced up at her. ‘We need something for Olivia’s ankle — ice, frozen peas?’
Ankle? Forget that. My whole body needed cooling down.
‘Peas. Right,’ she said, shooting off again. Folding the towel he slipped it under my arm to soak up the worst of the blood. Gently he dabbed away, as I winced with every stroke. When he’d finished, he moved closer, crouching between my legs. Our eyes were level as he gave me a reassuring smile and his warm hand closed over mine, squeezing it comfortingly.
‘I’ll take you to A & E.’
I kept my eyes firmly on his, terrified I was going to give myself away. God, if I so much as looked at his mouth, he’d know.
‘What time is it?’ I asked, forcing myself to think of the mundane. Outside it was dark and I could just hear muffled early morning sounds: a car accelerating a street away, the chink of milk bottles and the distant rattle of a train.
‘Quarter to three,’ said Daniel, his eyes flicking to the clock behind my head. ‘Hopefully Casualty will be quiet. The drunks will have been cleared out. Let me get dressed.’
I settled into the chair, gritting my teeth as the pain began to bite in earnest. Wages of sin. Served me right for thinking unseemly thoughts. What was worse? The stinging in my arm, the steady pounding of my bruised ankle or my mind doing a slow-motion replay of when Daniel touched my hand on his chest?
As I closed my eyes, resting my head wearily against the sofa, I was conscious of agitated whispering in Emily’s bedroom. I winced. She hadn’t seemed very sympathetic to my injuries. Any second now I expected her to say, ‘She fancies you’. Instead I heard her hissing, ‘You can’t leave me here on my own. What if they come back?’
