No More Lonely Nights by Charlotte Lamb Read Free Book Online Page B

Magdalena Cassidy would have been indignant if she knew that a stranger, and a common reporter at that, was fingering these delicate, delicious, dreamy concoctions of satin, silk and lace, which must have cost the earth.
    Surely the girl hadn’t forgotten them? Or was she so wealthy that she didn’t miss them and had another room full of such things in her new home? Rick had said she had married a wealthy man. Sian drew a filmy nightie out and gazed at it enviously. Lucky Magdalena. Sian could only afford nylon.
    She threw the nightie over her arm and went to see if Annette was still awake. The room was in darkness and there was no sound from the bed when Sian whispered, ‘Annette? Are you OK?’
    Sian hesitated, though. She tiptoed over to check that Annette was actually there and saw the other girl’s white face; a blur in the shadows. Annette had her eyes shut. She must have lain down fully dressed under a quilt, and she was breathing so quietly that Sian thought she might already be asleep. Well, she had had so many shocks today; she might have keeled over and fallen into a weary sleep. Sian tiptoed back to the door and returned to her own room.
    She washed in the en-suite bathroom and put on Magdalena Cassidy’s enchanting nightie, a floating creation of blue satin and lace by Janet Reger. She combed her hair and yawned, climbing into bed a moment later. She switched out the light and her eyes closed gratefully, only to open not long after-wards when she heard a creak on the landing outside the room.
    Sian tensed, listening hard. Another creak, the rustle of someone’s clothes. Was that Annette? Or was William Cassidy creeping past her room, and, if so, where was he going?
    In a flash, she was out of bed and across the room. It was dark on the landing outside, but she saw a shadowy movement outside Annette’s door. Sian did not want to wake the girl; she dared not make too much noise, so she hurried silently towards the shape she saw vanishing into the next room.
    She caught up with him before he reached the bed, and grabbed his shoulder. He stiffened, spinning to face her.
    ‘Outside!’ Sian hissed, her eyes on the bed. Annette’s face was buried in her pillow now; only her hair was visible, a drift of darkness on the white sheet.
    William Cassidy hesitated, his own eyes on the bed, and Sian tugged at him, glaring.
    ‘You shouldn’t be in here,’ she whispered. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
    At that he strode away, and she followed, softly closing the door behind her. He turned on her then, his face pale with temper.
    ‘Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like that in my own house?’ His eyes flashed; she remembered Annette saying that he was like lightning ripping up the sky. That was how he looked now, those grey eyes violent, his tall body vibrating with a powerful tension.
    ‘Sorry, but you asked me to look after Annette, and that’s what I mean to do,’ Sian said, hoping she didn’t show how nervous he made her feel.
    ‘I was making sure she was sleeping,’ he said through his teeth.
    ‘Don’t you think I’ve checked? If she woke up and saw you by her bed she might have hysterics. She’s had enough for one day, leave her alone.’ She stood outside the room, her head thrown back, her eyes firmly meeting his. ‘Go back to bed or do I have to sit in there all night?’
    He spun on his heel and walked back past her room, and Sian followed after a pause, but as she got to her door he suddenly came back just as she was switching on her bedroom light. Startled, she faced him.
    ‘What now?’
    ‘You didn’t really think I went in there to…’ He stopped, his mouth twisting.
    ‘Go to bed, Mr Cassidy,’ said Sian, closing her door.
    His foot stopped it and he shouldered through. ‘You listen to me,’ he said fiercely. ‘As it happens, I’m too tired to rape anyone, but even if I weren’t, I don’t see myself hurting Annette. I’m not given to violence against