“I managed a couple of hours,” she said with admirable calm. “You?”
“Not a wink,” he admitted, lifting the glass and taking a sip.
“Why?”
The question came out more starkly than she’d intended. It hung between them, glossy with intent.
“Because you’re here,” he said at last, a certain dryness to his tone.
She stiffened. “If I’m making you uncomfortable, I’ll go,” she said quickly, turning away. “I’m sorry. You should have said. I’ll get dressed.”
But as she passed him he reached out and caught her wrist. Everything jolted at the touch. Kelly felt the warmth from his fingers glowing across the surface of her skin. This time her first instinct was not to fight her way free.
She faltered, stared at him wordlessly.
He looked up at her. She felt his gaze soft on her face, her hair, her shoulders. She swallowed.
“Sit with me a while,” he coaxed. “Nothing more. Just . . . sit with me.”
Kelly would have pulled back but she heard something in his voice. Not seduction but a need for comfort, for a kind of mutual consolation and she remembered that he too had lost someone. He had as good as told her that his marriage was more partnership than romantic bond. Nevertheless, Veronica was someone he’d known, cared for and lived alongside. And he’d lost her to an act of shocking violence he had neither understood nor been prepared for.
She stood there unable to find the words to express her sorrow for both of them. After a moment he let her arm drop with a quiet exhalation that could have been a sigh.
Kelly moved around the arm of the sofa and sank onto the cushions next to him, tucking her feet up. She felt his surprise in the brief hesitation. Then his arm went around her shoulders and very gently he drew her closer.
This is a bad idea, she thought. But I need this—and so does he.
She allowed herself to fold against the side of his body, her head resting on his shoulder. She put one hand on his chest for balance. Beneath her palm his heart beat strong and steady. He carried the faint trace of good cologne.
Lytton inhaled and then exhaled unsteadily as if letting go of more than simply spent air. He turned his head slightly and his breath stirred her scalp. His hand began to drift along her upper arm in a smooth, unthreatening caress.
Gradually Kelly felt knots she hadn’t even realised were there begin to untie themselves. She sank deeper into him as everything slowed within her. It was a long time since someone had just held her like this, apparently without expectation. A long time since she’d wanted or needed such human contact.
Hazily she wondered, why him?
And then she slept.
***
When Kelly woke the light had solidified into morning. She found herself alone on the sofa, curled up like a cat with the duvet from her bed wrapped carefully around her.
She had no recollection of how long Lytton had stayed with her or when he’d edged out from underneath but she hoped she hadn’t snored.
From somewhere behind her in the apartment she heard the sound of a shower running. To avoid any awkward hellos she stumbled to her feet and hurried back towards the bedroom she’d been given, bundling up the duvet as she went.
She indulged in a long shower. The water was hot and plentiful and she took full advantage of it. The prospect of climbing back into yesterday’s clothes held little appeal.
Although Lytton had told her to make use of anything she found in the room, she hesitated before pulling open drawers.
To her surprise, the second one she checked held a selection of classy lingerie. The bras were too big but Kelly had never considered herself over-blessed in that department and often went without anyway. She found camisole tops instead and knickers to match.
The wardrobes held suits, blouses, dresses and coats, all with a rake of designer labels. Kelly dithered briefly then took a plain white silk blouse off a hanger and shrugged it on. It didn’t quite go with her grubby cargoes but what the hell. She knotted the front tails rather than tuck them in. Too formal was not her style.
Then she took a deep breath and went in search of her host.
Matthew Lytton was in the kitchen, expertly preparing grapefruit. There was a smell of toast and coffee. In the corner was a muted TV tuned to one of the twenty-four-hour news channels.
Lytton was dressed in suit trousers and a formal white shirt with the collar and cuffs yet to be buttoned. His dark hair was still damp from his own shower. He looked remarkably relaxed for a man whose home had been invaded by a fugitive who’d assaulted him and then more or less passed out in his arms.
He greeted her with a guarded smile and gestured to the coffee pot.
“Help yourself.”
She lifted the knotted tails of the blouse. “I already did. I hope you don’t mind?”
“No, that’s fine,” he said, his eyes flickering over her. “Vee rarely wore half the stuff she kept in her room.”
Her room? You mean you didn’t share?
Kelly hunched a shoulder. “I’ll get it back to you.”
“No need. It looks good on you.” The toast popped up. He fished the slices out of the big chrome toaster and piled them on a plate, adding over his shoulder, “I was going to send the whole lot to Oxfam anyway.”
“In that case tell me which shop. I may stage a raid.”
Her attempt at levity hung heavy between them where last night—early this morning—things had seemed so easy. Perhaps it was because they both knew that if things turned out badly she might be wearing prison garb for the foreseeable future.
“Eat.” He pushed the grapefruit and the plate of toast towards her. “You look better for some rest.”
That brought heat rushing into her face. She busied herself pulling out a stool from the breakfast bar, perching on top. “I feel better. And thank you.”
“What for—breakfast?”
For being there. For holding me.
“Of course,” she said lightly. “Food is the way to a woman’s heart, not just a man’s. Didn’t you know?”
He paused and just when she thought he was going to say something profound he said instead, “Well, I better make sure I feed you well then. There’s juice in the fridge if you’d like some?”
She didn’t but nodded regardless. As he turned away she used the distraction to quickly swap the grapefruit dishes. Lytton put the juice container on the breakfast bar with no sign he’d noticed the substitution.
As he took the stool opposite it struck Kelly that they must have seemed like any normal domesticated couple eating breakfast together. The air of intimacy was unfamiliar and unsettling.