She wouldn’t think about it for now. She nestled closer against him, and stroked his chest, smiling when she heard his breathing quicken and felt his body harden under her touch.
The pizzas were stone cold when they finally made their way downstairs. She had slipped a pair of leggings and one of Stefan’s sweatshirts on, and he was wearing his army jogging pants and a shirt. He went to the drawing room to poke the fire he had made before back to life, and she carried the pizzas to the kitchen.
As she put them into the oven, she made a mental note to write on the receipt that one of the pizzas was for her and pay it back. Even if Stefan had insisted he repay all the groceries she bought for him, she still had to send detailed receipts to Piers at the end of each week. After the ugly scene at the restaurant, the last thing she needed was for him to accuse her of fraud as well as theft, even if it was only the price of a pizza.
Stefan glanced at her as he walked in. ‘Is there anything wrong? You look preoccupied.’
She shrugged. ‘It’s nothing.’ Mentioning her troubles with Piers would spoil the evening, but it was as if a black cloud had suddenly filled her heart.
‘By the way, how did your meeting go?’ Stefan asked, as if he was reading her mind.
‘It was… all right.’
She looked away immediately, opened the oven and pretended to check on the pizzas. She couldn’t tell him about Piers – about the accusations, the customer complaints, and, most of all, about the horrid scene at the restaurant and the way he had fired her. Guilt and shame churned inside her. She should have told Piers to stop pestering her instead of hoping that he would get the message. He said she led him on, and perhaps he had a point.
‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ Stefan asked from behind her.
She turned round and forced a smile. ‘Yes, of course.’
Frowning as if he didn’t quite believe her, he took a bottle of wine and two glasses out of the cupboard. ‘Shall we eat in the drawing room? I got the fire going again.’
She smiled. ‘Good idea.’
‘Did Kerry like the clubhouse?’ he asked as they sat on the rug in front of the fireplace to eat.
‘She loved it and Alastair too. He even cracked a joke, which is a first.’
‘That’s your grandfather’s influence, no doubt.’
She licked the tomato off her fingers, extended her legs in front of her and leaned back against the sofa. She was about to tell him about Nathan when Stefan spoke.
‘Actually… I met your grandfather in the village today.’
‘Was he all right?’
Was it her imagination or did he hesitate before answering?
‘He was a bit preoccupied.’
Immediately alarm tightened her chest. ‘What was the matter with him? Was he ill?’
‘No. He said his knee was playing up, and he asked me to walk home with him because he wanted to check… ahem… something.’
Why did she have the feeling that he wasn’t telling her everything? ‘There was something else, wasn’t there?’
Stefan sighed and combed his fingers in his hair. ‘I’m sorry, Cassie. I promised him I wouldn’t tell. He said you would only worry for nothing. But I can tell you that I fixed the radiator in the upstairs room.’
‘Oh, I see.’ He had gone to the back room. That’s where the filing cabinet was, where her granddad kept his bank papers.
‘Was my granddad’s preoccupation to do with money, by any chance?’
The look in Stefan’s eyes told her she was right.
She sighed. ‘I’ve been worried about my granddad for a while. He’s been tired, distracted and forgetful for weeks now.’
‘Perhaps he’s just getting old.’ He rose to his feet and held out his hand. ‘Come on. It’s late. Let’s go to bed.’
He had winced as he got up, but as usual, and even though he might be in pain, he didn’t complain. She had seen the scars slashing his chest, his back. Her fingers had stroked their cruel grooves, and her lips left soft, tender kisses along them. Love such as she had never felt before swelled inside her, almost choking her.
Could she tell him how she felt? Or was it too soon?
‘Stefan,’ she said, extending her hand.
He reached out for her and pulled her to his feet. ‘Yes?’
But she couldn’t say the words. Not yet. ‘I’m glad I’m here, with you,’ she said instead.
He cupped her face between his hands and gave her a kiss as light as the caress of a butterfly. In the light of the dying fire, his gaze was so tender her heart ached. ‘So am I, little bluebell. So am I.’
She snuggled against him, her body soft and warm. Her fingers lingered on his chest, and she half-heartedly attempted to tickle him again. She may not succeed in making him squirm and giggle but she aroused a whole host of other sensations. He looked down and smiled. Strands of blonde hair caressed his neck as she now moved to kiss his chest.
She didn’t smile back but held his gaze, her eyes a light, cloudy grey. ‘Tell me about your ghosts and I’ll tell you about mine,’ she said.
His heart grew heavy. ‘Why do you want to know?’
‘Because it makes you sad, and I don’t want you to be sad.’
Would he ever dare tell her about Mali? About the catastrophic failings that had led to so many deaths – his catastrophic failings?
Would it make him feel better? More to the point, did he have the right to feel better? The guilt and nightmares were his purgatory. His punishment.
At the same time, it was dishonest and cowardly to keep that massive chunk of his past from her.
‘Very well.’
He took a moment to gather his thoughts. ‘My regiment was deployed in Mali five years ago. Things went well at first and the situation was under control, but after a couple of years terrorist attacks on civilians increased with suicide bombers blowing themselves up in markets or in the makeshift camps set up by humanitarian organisations like Inter Medics.’
‘Is that where you met Charles Ashville?’
Stefan nodded. ‘We were assigned to the protection of the medical staff and local civilians, and we followed Charlie and his staff around the country, airlifting sick or injured people to the nearest base. Charlie and I became friends.’
He closed his eyes. ‘Last summer my helicopter was targeted by extremists. We were rescuing women and children from a dispensary that had almost been completely destroyed by a mortar attack in the south of the country. We knew that the men responsible were still in the area, waiting to finish the job, but I thought…’ He swallowed hard. ‘I thought I had time to evacuate everybody safely.’
He took a deep breath, almost expecting the foul smells of blood, burning flesh and death. But there was only the lemony scent of Cassie’s skin.
‘I was wrong. The terrorists waited until the last women and children were on board, and then launched a rocket attack as I was taking off.’
He closed his eyes. ‘Charlie and I were the lucky ones, I managed to pull him and two children out of the wreckage, and went back to help the others, but the helicopter burst into flames in front of me.
‘I don’t remember much after that. I was repatriated to the Val de Grâce Hospital in Paris – that’s the military hospital. I’ve been on sick leave ever since.’