Chapter 18
Alone once more, Catherine allowed herself to give in to the fear that had been slowly building. It overwhelmed her, reducing her to a sobbing, frightened child. This time she did not try to hide her tears, but she did not want anyone to know, least of all the kind woman who was taking care of her, just how terrified she truly was. Her mind was a fog of shadowy images. One by one they slipped away, leaving behind nothing but a gaping void, and the echo of mocking laughter.
Her world had become this room and the only four people she now knew. Mrs. Hatch, the young housemaid Tilly, Dr. MacGregor, and Rian Connor. But according to all their accounts, she had known them only a matter of days. So who was she? Burying her face in the pillow and using it to blot her tears, Catherine made herself examine the few things she was certain of.
She placed Mrs. Hatch, Tilly, and the kindly doctor in one group, instinctively sensing that everything they told her was true. She had not known them before being brought to this room, and though she was certain she had never been in this house before, a vague feeling told her she knew what it was to sleep in such a grand bed with fine linens and embroidered covers. If they had asked her, Catherine was sure she could give a rudimentary outline of the responsibilities of the mistress of such a house. Though how she came by such knowledge was a mystery. But know it she did.
Her thoughts now turned to the other person in her equation, her benefactor, Rian Connor. She kept him separate because her response to him was quite different.
When he took the seat at her bedside she knew he spoke to her because she saw his lips move, but all she could hear was the pounding beat of her own heart filling her ears. Her rib cage constricted, making it hard to breathe, and from somewhere deep inside her a throbbing ache started to rise. It was a sensation that was both familiar and yet completely unknown. A sweet pain that flowed through her limbs, carrying with it an unexpected rush that intuition told her was desire. And then when he had touched her hand, it was as if the warmth of his skin against hers had jolted something free inside her. Terrified by this sudden, uncontrollable swell of passion racing through her, Catherine had snatched her hand away.
Now she was filled with shame at her reaction. How was it possible to provoke such a strong emotion simply by skin brushing skin? Catherine didn’t know, but the sudden flare she saw in Rian’s eyes as his hand closed over hers told her he was not unaffected. She wanted to tell him about the inexplicable craving she was feeling. Wanted to ask him if the sudden light in his eyes, the barely noticeable heightened color in his face, and the rush of breath through parted lips meant he felt the same. But the sudden change in his expression told her she was mistaken. He felt no affection toward her.
The man had saved her life. The last thing he wanted to hear was how the mere brush of his fingers across her hand had unleashed a wild longing in her. Created a hunger that rose so quickly and with such force, it unsettled her. Unsure of what to do, she had reacted in the only way she knew how. Her only explanation for such behavior was that shock had caused her to overreact. Her attraction to the man with the dark, penetrating gaze could not be denied, which was unfortunate for her. And then she had made things worse by asking the most inappropriate of questions. How could she think they were married? Rian certainly didn’t behave as she imagined a husband would. He uttered no endearments, no words of relief at her recovery, and displayed no sign of affection or tenderness toward her. And yet that feeling of intimacy had refused to let go of her. So she had asked the question, unsure whether she would be relieved or horrified if he had told her yes.
In the end it mattered not. Rian had firmly denied any prior acquaintance between them, brushing aside her feelings by telling her the encounter between them was recent and had been exhausting. Exhausting! What on earth could have happened to produce such indifference on his part? It had taken all her willpower to hide the crushing blow his comment had created. If only she could recall the circumstances, she might agree with his point of view, although from the way her body was reacting, Catherine doubted it. Even now, lying back against the pillows, she could feel a heat in the pit of her belly that would not be denied, and a throbbing ache rising as she brought the image of his face to mind. The tilt of his chin, the thickness of his lashes, the curve of his mouth all made her pulse quicken. Unable to banish Rian’s face from her mind, Catherine closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift, trusting they would help her make sense of what she had been through.
At the height of her fever, when her body had been nothing but a battleground, instinct had made her fight for her own survival. In her delirium she saw unknown hands reaching for her from every direction, trying to drag her down into the bottomless pit they inhabited. But she fought against them, crying out for help in her hour of desperation. She could feel her strength waning, draining to its lowest ebb, so she made one last, frantic lunge back toward sanity, reaching for something, for someone, for anyone, and hardly daring to believe it when her cries had been answered.
Alone in the wasteland of her nightmare, when she thought all was lost, Catherine had been picked up and swept away by a male presence that came out of the darkness to give her the strength she needed. She let him calm her fears and wrapped herself in his protection. There was safety in his arms. No harm would come to her now, so she gave herself up to him. Her strength depleted, she had yielded her very essence, offering herself to him, drawing on his strength and taking it for her own. Shamelessly she pressed herself against him, not caring who he was or what he might ask of her. Her only desire was to take him with her as she sank into oblivion.
When Catherine finally opened her eyes again, it was to find herself alone in the big bed. No strong arms comforted her, no warm body held her close, and she wept with the realization her savior had been a delusion. A product of her feverish imaginings enhanced by the potions prescribed by the caring physician. And as her reason returned, she told herself that none of it, least of all the man she had clung to, had been real.
And then she had met Rian Connor.
She was certain there was more to the connection they shared than he had described. How could he not sense the emotional maelstrom he had unleashed in her? This strange, inexplicable attraction she felt for him was too strong to be her burden alone. Rian Connor may have saved her life, but was that all he had done?
Sighing, Catherine felt the start of a headache thrumming at her temples. Her head was swimming with questions. Too many to be dealt with at the present, so she pushed them to one side, locked them in a corner of her mind to be examined and answered later. The headache was telling her she was overtired and needed to rest, but as she drifted off to sleep one thought kept echoing in her mind.
Whatever had happened between her and Rian Connor, it had been strong enough to set her heart racing, and light a fire within her. And whether he felt the same toward her or not, Rian was the one with the answers. Answers she was determined to get, even if it meant knocking him down and forcing him to tell her.
Exhaustion be damned!