Newlyweds Of Convenience. Jessica Hart
strangest feeling that all the air had been suddenly sucked out of the room. Worse, her eyes seemed to have snagged on his, and she couldn’t look away from his gaze. ‘I can’t say it’s my fantasy,’ she managed a little unsteadily after a moment, and something closed in his face.
‘There’s no need to tell me that,’ he said curtly.
‘I wouldn’t have thought you were a man who went in for dreams and fantasies much yourself.’ Mallory had been hoping to lighten the atmosphere, but instead her words came out almost accusingly.
Torr’s eyes flickered, and he turned back to look at the fire. ‘You’d be surprised,’ he said.
It turned out that there was a door which led directly into a kitchen garden, and Mallory was hugely relieved to discover that she didn’t need to negotiate that creepy passage on her own in the dark to take Charlie out.
‘I’ll take him if you like,’ Torr offered brusquely as he got to his feet and collected their empty mugs. ‘You get ready for bed.’
I won’t have any problem keeping my hands off you. Mallory could still hear the contempt in his voice, see the dislike in the navy blue eyes. She hadn’t expected him to be thoughtful enough to give her time to get ready by herself, and she hurried gratefully to take advantage of his offer.
Relinquishing her own fantasy of a deep, hot bath, Mallory did her teeth in a sink in the scullery. It was dank and grimy, but not as bad as that horrible bathroom, and she was too cold and too tired to start cleaning now.
Her teeth chattered uncontrollably as she headed into the bedroom. She might have decided not to make a fuss about the situation, but that didn’t mean that she was ready to casually undress in front of Torr.
Although it was more a case of putting clothes on than taking them off, Mallory reflected wryly, digging through her case in search of yoga pants and a sweatshirt. She hadn’t expected to be sharing a bed, and they were the best she could do. It was just as well she hadn’t had any hopes of seduction. This was no place for sexy night-wear, even if she hadn’t thrown all hers away when Steve had abandoned her.
As quickly as she could, Mallory pulled off the trousers and jumper she had travelled in and wriggled out of her underwear, sucking in her breath as the chill air struck her bare flesh. She was shuddering with the cold, and it made her hands clumsy too, so that she fumbled with the sweatshirt and pants and wrestled on a pair of thick walking socks.
She was glad there was no mirror. She had always been famous amongst her friends for her good grooming, and they would howl with laughter to see her now, but it was just too bad, Mallory thought. It was that or freeze to death, and it wasn’t as if Torr was going to care.
The sound of the kitchen door opening and closing made her dive under the duvet, heart suddenly thumping. Torr and Charlie were back. Any minute now he would come in here and get into bed beside her. And then…
Then nothing, Mallory reminded herself. Ashamed of her behaviour on their wedding night, she had been prepared to try again if Torr had ever shown any interest in her, but he had made it plain that she meant as little to him as he did to her. He had even told her outright this evening that he had no intention of touching her, so there was absolutely no reason to be nervous.
Knowing that didn’t stop Mallory lying tensely under the duvet, straining to hear Torr’s approach over the screeching of the wind as it hurled itself at the window, making it rattle and creak alarmingly. What would be more nerve-racking? she wondered. To spend the night with Torr lying beside her, or to spend the night alone in the dark with the storm raging outside?
On the whole, Mallory decided she would be better off with Torr, but she still jumped when he pushed open the door, and she wriggled deeper under the mound of blankets and duvet until only her nose and the top of her head was showing.
CHAPTER THREE
‘I GAVE Charlie a couple of biscuits, is that right?’ said Torr.
‘Er…yes…thanks.’
Mallory had to pull the duvet down over her mouth so that he could hear her.
‘And I said goodnight, told him to have a nice sleep, and that we’d see him in the morning, the way you always do.’
Forgetting her embarrassment in surprise, Mallory pulled herself up to stare at him. ‘How on earth do you know that?’
‘It’s your night-time ritual.’ Torr sat down on the edge of the bed, making it dip and creak, and pulled off his boots. ‘I’ve heard you talking to Charlie in the kitchen.’
He had been eavesdropping on her one-sided conversations with the dog all this time, and she had never known it! Mallory didn’t know whether to feel foolish or astounded that he had bothered to listen. ‘I suppose you think I’m a sentimental idiot?’
‘No,’ he said, yanking his thick Guernsey sweater over his head. ‘I like the way you give him so much attention.’
It’s more than you give me. The unspoken words seemed to echo round the room, as a brushed cotton shirt followed the sweater, and Mallory found her eyes resting on his broad, bare back before she remembered to yank her gaze away and huddle back down under the duvet. She wasn’t supposed to be gawping at the sight of husband undressing.
She just hoped that he wasn’t planning to sleep naked. She didn’t know how she would cope with that. But, no, when she peeped another glance, he was wearing high-tech thermal gear that looked as if it were top of the range for climbers. She should have realised that his experience on the hills would mean that he was much better prepared for the cold than she was. Walking Charlie required boots and a good waterproof jacket, but that was as far as her outdoor equipment went.
‘Thank you for taking him out,’ she said belatedly.
‘No problem. I like dogs.’
A silence loomed, and Mallory rushed to fill it. ‘Have you ever thought about having one?’ she asked, cringing a little at how breathless she sounded. If she carried on like this, Torr would guess how nervous she was.
‘I had a dog called Basher when I was a boy,’ Torr told her as he got to his feet and crossed over to the light switch. ‘He was the best dog you could ever have. I could never replace him.’
‘I feel like that about Charlie.’
The room was plunged into blackness as Torr switched off the light, and the sound of the wind and the rain seemed to intensify in the dark. Mallory shivered and forced her mind back to dogs.
Torr was feeling his way back to the bed. ‘I never thought of you as a dog person,’ she said, in the same thin, high voice.
‘I could say the same of you.’
Annoyingly, Torr sounded exactly as normal. He pulled back the blankets on his side of the bed. ‘I’ve always thought Charlie is an odd sort of dog for you to have.’
Bedsprings creaked and the mattress dipped alarmingly under his weight, so that Mallory had to grab onto her side of bed to stop herself rolling towards him.
‘What do you mean, odd?’ she asked edgily, to take her mind off the fact that Torr was calmly getting into bed beside her.
‘I suppose I was thinking about that old adage that dogs look like their owners—or is it the other way round?’ He felt around for a pillow, and shifted his shoulders to make himself comfortable. ‘I would have expected you to be a cat person, or if you were going to have a dog that it would be a pedigree, something elegant and a little aloof—like a saluki, perhaps. Charlie is a nice dog,’ he said, ‘but he doesn’t fit with your image at all.’
‘What is my image?’ Mallory asked with a touch of irritation.
Torr thought about it. ‘Elegant,’ he said. ‘Stylish…sophisticated. Not like Charlie, in fact.’
‘That’s just the way I dress, not the way