But it was evident to Cyn just how much it still disturbed him, because Wolf only swore when he was upset about something. Perhaps now wasn’t the time either to point out that he could always go to Barbara...!
But the other woman wasn’t the past; from what Cyn had seen the other night, Barbara was still very much in the present tense for Wolf. Cyn straightened defensively; she couldn’t help it, just thinking of Barbara Thornton, and the part she had played in her past unhappiness, was enough to make her hackles rise, even now.
‘Barbara, then,’ she said sharply. ‘I’m sure she would be pleased to have you stay with her.’ Her mouth twisted scornfully as she thought of just how much the other woman would like that.
‘Barbara moved into Thornton House with my mother after Alex’s death, and she’s stayed there ever since,’ Wolf bit out curtly, straightening in his seat. ‘But as it’s obvious you would rather I went anywhere else but with you, perhaps you’d better drive me back to my flat. I’ll manage somehow.’
Cyn looked across at him in dismay; even in profile his face looked starkly unrelenting. God, what choice did she have—had she ever had? ‘Of course you must come home with me,’ she told him briskly, turning in her seat to restart the van. ‘After all, it was my fault the accident happened at all, so I’m responsible for you until you’re mobile again,’ she accepted heavily, turning her attention to driving back to the cottage now; anything but dwelling on just how difficult it was going to be for her having Wolf invade the privacy of her home in this way.
‘How graciously put,’ Wolf drawled derisively.
Cyn gave him a sharp glance, hurriedly looking away again at the mocking humour in the wry twist of his mouth. Damn him, he had to know how much she dreaded the thought of being in such close proximity with him for the next—how long had the nurse said he had to rest? A couple of days, wasn’t it? Cyn had never realised how long a couple of days could seem until that moment! And it was the weekend too, with no wedding to be involved in the organisation of, so there would be no respite for her by being able to go off to work either. God...!
She wasn’t sure at that moment whether she was cursing—or praying!
* * *
‘I’ll need some things from my flat,’ Wolf told her with a frown. ‘Clothes, things like that. And my briefcase, of course,’ he sighed heavily.
They had managed to get him into the cottage at last, and it hadn’t been without a struggle. Everything had gone fine when they were outside, Wolf already seeming to have mastered the crutches quite competently. It had only been once they got inside the cottage that the problems presented themselves; there was too much furniture for him to be able to manoeuvre himself properly, and the low ceilings didn’t help either. The only way he could get himself into the sitting-room at all was by Cyn actually moving half the furniture back against the walls, and so clearing a space for him in the middle of the room. All of which made it look very barren.
But Cyn had finally got him settled in an armchair beside the unlit fireplace, his foot resting up on a stool, the crutches conveniently placed in the nook beside the fireplace so that he could reach them easily. Having him here was going to be more than just disruptive to her peace of mind!
And now he was suggesting she go to his flat and collect some things for him! ‘Do you still live in the same place?’ She hoped not! The thought of going back there—
‘Of course,’ he replied smoothly, watching her with narrowed eyes as she visibly stiffened. ‘Is there some problem with that?’ he asked softly.
Not for him, obviously. But for her...! She and Wolf had first made love in that flat, had spent all their good times together there, making love, cooking together, laughing together, Wolf painting while she—
‘No,’ she told him thoughtfully. ‘No, there’s no problem with that at all.’ She would finally be able to know what had happened to his paintings, whether he still had his studio there or if he had given all that up with all the other things that now seemed to be missing from his life. Things like laughter... And fun... Things like Wolf himself...! ‘I’ll go now, shall I?’ She stood up ready to leave.
‘That anxious to escape my company for a few hours, are you?’ he rasped harshly. ‘Oh, for God’s sake...! Just take my keys and go.’ He took the keys out of his pocket and thrust them at her before resting his head back against the chair once she had taken them, closing his eyes wearily.
Cyn continued to look down at him for several long minutes, her fingers closing about the cold keys, not knowing whether she should go or stay. He looked tired, very tired, but she didn’t know whether that was from the pain of his ankle or something else; after all, no matter how disparaging she might have been about his reaction to Rebecca calling off the wedding, his fiancée had walked out on him today too.
‘Wolf—’
‘If you’re going, just go!’ His eyes were open now and he glared up at her. ‘I don’t need you to baby-sit me every minute of the day!’
Baby-sitting was the last thing she had in mind, but it was only just beginning to dawn on her exactly how incapacitated he was. For one thing, her downstairs loo was through the kitchen and out of the back door... It should be no problem with her here to help him, but on his own—!
‘Er—Wolf...?’ She chewed awkwardly on her bottom lip.
His impatience deepened. ‘Just give me the newspaper, a pen so I can do the crossword, a glass of fruit juice or something so that I don’t dehydrate while you make this mammoth trek into town.’ His mouth twisted with his sarcasm. ‘And—’
‘The fruit juice might not be a good idea—not when the toilet is actually outside,’ she explained with a grimace.
He drew in an irritated breath. ‘OK, don’t give me the newspaper or a pen to do the crossword, or the damned fruit juice; I’ll just sit in the chair here and go to sleep till you get back! Will that do?’ he challenged harshly, his hands clenched at his sides.
‘I was only—’
‘I know what you “were only”, Cyn,’ he sighed impatiently. ‘I’m just not in any frame of mind to want to be bothered with it at the moment. Understand?’ He looked up at her grimly.
Yes, she understood only too well. She was as quickly coming to learn the moods of this new Wolf as she had thought she knew the old one; he just wanted to be left alone, didn’t want anything, especially not her fussing around him.
Nevertheless, she did pause in the kitchen long enough to get him a sandwich and some fruit; he hadn’t had anything to eat for some time either. She placed them on the table next to him—with the requested fruit juice. Knowing Wolf, he would manage somehow, if he was desperate enough.
He had fallen asleep, she discovered when she turned to tell him about the food, his face completely relaxed now, the lines of pain and tiredness completely erased. He looked younger now, more like the Wolf she had once known— No! This wasn’t the Wolf she had known, or even thought she had known. This man was a hardened businessman, cut-throat, if the success of Thornton Industries was any indication. Besides, this Wolf had just had a second fiancée walk out on him, and for very similar reasons, if Barbara’s appearance in his office yesterday was anything to go by. Why didn’t he just marry the other woman and stop involving other people in their emotionally painful triangle?
For years after she had given Wolf his ring back Cyn had looked in the newspapers for just such an announcement. She had realised the two wouldn’t be able to marry immediately, not when Barbara had only recently been widowed by Wolf’s brother’s death. But surely after a socially acceptable interval the two of them could have married? It didn’t make sense to Cyn that they hadn’t. But then nothing about Wolf’s feelings for Barbara had ever made sense to her!
Cyn turned away abruptly without waking him, leaving the food and drink beside him; when he woke up he would see them there if he wanted them. She just needed to get out for a while, away from all those painful memories of her disillusionment with Wolf.
Not that going to his flat was going to do that, she accepted, feeling herself becoming more and more tense as she parked outside the building and crossed the pavement to press the security button. She and Wolf had forgotten all about that; she might have driven all this way to be literally turned away at the door. The flats in this prestigious block were such that a security guard screened everyone entering or leaving.
It was the same security man from seven years ago!
Cyn could hardly believe it, but she instantly recognised the slightly balding man as George Crossley from the time she had been such a regular visitor to Wolf’s apartment that she had even had her own key. He was older now, of course—weren’t they all!—and was slightly plumper than she remembered, slightly balder too, but it was definitely George.
‘Miss Smith!’ he greeted her with genuine pleasure as he unlocked the door to her, smiling broadly. ‘It is Miss Smith, isn’t it?’ He seemed less certain now that he had had time to remember the fact that he hadn’t seen her for several years.
‘It certainly is, George,’ she returned warmly, stepping inside. Just because he had recognised her it didn’t mean he was going to calmly accept her going up to Wolf’s penthouse flat, but if she was actually inside the building he might feel less inclined to throw her out again. ‘Mr Thornton has had a slight accident, I’m afraid, and—’
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