‘I’m
‘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
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.
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
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.
And then, of course, she remembered Torr’s hands pulling her brusquely towards him, the feel of his body, hard and warm and insensibly reassuring against her, and for no reason Mallory felt her cheeks grow hot. Well, she had been tired, and more than a little frightened, and there had been no point in being cold. It wasn’t as if she had snuggled into him of her own accord, was it? Torr had made it very clear that not even a smidgeon of affection had been involved.
So that was all right, then.
Wondering why she was even thinking about it, Mallory reached an arm out from beneath the duvet to retrieve her watch, and grimaced at the temperature and the time. It was late, and still very cold. Pushing back the blankets and swinging her legs out of bed took a huge effort of will, and she shivered anew as she scrabbled through her case in search of a fleece and an extra pair of socks. Not exactly a glamorous look, but it would have to do until she had had a bath.
The smell of freshly made coffee met her as she padded through to the kitchen, the flagstones chill even through two pairs of socks, and she sniffed appreciatively. It reminded her of her favourite Italian delicatessen, where she met her friends for coffee…or used to meet, she remembered bleakly. There were no friendly little places to drop in for coffee around Kincaillie, and no friends to meet.
If anything, the kitchen was more depressing in daylight than it had been the night before. It was dank and dirty and dilapidated, and the pile of boxes they had unpacked from the car the night before only added to the chaos of the scene. Mallory sighed.
The kitchen door stood open, and she went over to shut it before realising that it was just as cold inside as out, so it wasn’t as if a lot of heat was being lost. Registering for the first time that the rain had stopped, Mallory stood in the doorway, hugging her arms together, and looked at her new home for the first time.
The door opened onto a walled kitchen garden, as tangled and unkempt as everything else at Kincaillie. Beyond the far wall she could see what looked like a small wood, huddled into the hollow of a forbidding hillside that reared up above them, its flanks covered with scree and heather and its top ridged with corries where snow still lay in cold white streaks. The wind had dropped to a brisk, gusty breeze that sent clouds scudding across the sky, and the air was fresh and cold and tangy with the smell of the sea.
Torr stood on a brick path, holding a mug of coffee and watching Charlie, who was snuffling joyously around the big, messy garden, so much more interesting to him than the immaculate courtyard garden he’d been restricted to in the city. Sensing her presence, though, he looked up and barked a welcome, before bounding over to her, his tail wagging furiously.
His delight was impossible to resist, and Mallory couldn’t help laughing as she bent to receive his rapturous greeting. He squirmed with delight at her attention, and, still smiling, she looked up to see that Torr had turned and was watching them both with an expression that made her heart stutter. The next instant, though, it was gone so completely that Mallory wondered if she had imagined it.
‘Good morning,’ she said, unaccountably shy as she straightened. It wasn’t even as if they had done anything to feel shy or embarrassed about, but the memory of lying close to him, feeling him breathing, seemed suddenly startling in the cool morning air.
‘Good morning.’ Torr came over to join them on the paved area by the door. ‘I see you managed to get some sleep, then?’
‘Yes. Thank you,’ said Mallory stiltedly. She had been so deeply asleep that she hadn’t even stirred when he’d disentangled himself from her, and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. ‘Have you been up long?’
‘Not really.’ Torr seemed almost as awkward as she felt. ‘I made some coffee, and then Charlie was keen to come out.’
‘He seems to be having a good time, anyway,’ she said, as Charlie bustled off in search of more smells.
‘Yes.’
A ridiculously constrained silence fell.
‘The water should be hot enough for a bath if you want one,’ said Torr after a moment. ‘I put the immersion heater on.’
‘Oh. Thank you.’ Mallory was torn between longing for a bath and dread at the thought of all the cleaning she would have to do first. The memory of that bathroom made her shudder. ‘Er…will you keep an eye on Charlie if I go and do that now?’
‘If you want, but he hardly needs watching. There are no busy roads for him to escape onto here. You don’t need to worry about him now.’
‘No,’ said Mallory, reflecting that proximity to a busy road had also meant that they were close to central heating, immaculate plumbing, a functioning oven and all the other conveniences of modern living that had passed Kincaillie by. ‘I suppose not.’
In his dark blue sweater and jeans, Torr was apparently oblivious to the cold, and said that he would stay outside with his coffee while Mallory went in to tackle the bathroom. Helping herself to a fortifying mug of coffee, she found some rubber gloves and some bleach. Torr had suggested bringing some cleaning equipment, and now she could see why. If the bathroom had seemed disgusting last night, what was it going to look like in the cold light of day?
Bracing herself, she carried the coffee down to the bathroom, took a deep breath and opened the door. And stopped dead.
The floor had been roughly swept and the bath cleared of the debris she remembered from the night before. It was still stained, and cracked with age, but it had been cleaned and rinsed, and a cloth hung neatly over the taps. Torr must have dealt with it while she was sleeping.
Mallory looked down at it thoughtfully for some moments, and then turned to inspect the basin. Like the loo, it had had a cursory clean. Not enough to make it sparkling, for sure, but at least the bathroom was usable.
