CHAPTER XV

CHAPTER XV

They walked in silence down the cobbled street after dinner. Despite his earlier strange behaviour when she’d finally told him her name, which he’d brushed off as a strange sense of déjà vu, it was a comfortable silence that stretched between them.

Amara had forgotten how much she enjoyed the night. The way the streetlights twinkled and shimmered in the spring puddles on the pavement, the huge chasm of sky that was such a deep blue it almost appeared black. With Theo beside her, she felt safe for some reason. He kept his hands deep in his pockets and had made no move to touch her in any way. In fact, he actively made space when a lone passer-by tried to walk too close to her. She thought he was wonderful forit.

Eventually they reached the bottom of the stone steps that led to Amara’shotel.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I wasn’t expecting today to be quite so, so …”

“... magical,” he finished for her.

There was a look in his eyes she couldn’t quite place. It was the same one he’d given her earlier, and it made her feel like she must have tomato sauce on her face. She wiped at her cheeks, just in case, but came away with cleanhands.

“Would you like to do this again?” he askedher.

Amara let out a shy smile, unaware that it lit up her wholeface.

“Iwould.”

“Would tomorrow be too soon? I could show you some of my favourite areas of the city I think you’d love in the daylight,” heoffered.

“I’ll be ready ateleven.”

He nodded in agreement, rocking back on his heels, his hands still deep in his pockets.

“I’ll see you tomorrowthen.”

“Yes. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

She turned at the top of the entranceway stairs and saw him still waiting there until she was safe inside. When she made it to her room in the building, Amara turned the light on and went to the window to check if he was still there. He was. Then Theo lifted his hand in a wave and strolled into the night.

The next morning Theo was standing on the same spot, at 11 a.m. precisely, waiting for her. Dressed in jeans that moulded to his large legs and a deep V-neck black sweater with a matching black coat thrown over the top, he looked ... gorgeous. The thought startled Amara and she shook her head as if trying to shake it out. Look what had happened when she had let a stranger ogle her, and now she was doing the samething!

“I am a fool,” she muttered to herself as she headed down the stone steps towardshim.

“Ready?” he asked. She nodded in return, not trusting herself to speak with her current thoughts, and together they began walking in what she assumed was the way to the citycentre.

Their first stop was a bagel cart.

“We’ll take two smoked salmon and cream cheese bagels and two coffees. Do you want milk or sugar inyours?”

Amara shook her head, pulling a face, and Theo grinned. Handing over the bagel, she contemplated admonishing him for ordering for her. But one bite in and the explosion of the freshness of the salmon coupled with the creaminess of the spread had her moaning out loud in delight. She blushed, embarrassed that she’d made such a loud sound. His eyes merely crinkled in delight at her, and they continued on their way. They walked past shops that looked like barbers, which he assured her were actually hidden underground pubs. They walked along rows of houses with private access to large gardens that looked beautiful even in early spring, when winter was still thawing. They walked through streets with quotes written on the pavement slabs if you knew where to look. Amara would have missed them completely if he hadn’t pointed them out to her. She always had a habit of looking up at the sky when she walked, not down at her feet, as if she wanted to be in the heavens and not onEarth.

A week passed and Theo continued to show up for her. Every day, waiting on that same spot, precisely at 11 a.m. Every day a new hidden gem of the city revealed to her. Every day a little bit more comfortable in her own skin again.

Amara sighed, leaning back on the park bench they’d stopped at on the seventh day, on a walk around the gardens beneath the castle, staring up at the sky onceagain.

“Do you want to go up there?”

“Why don’t we sit here a while?” The weather had proven favourable, though dark storm clouds loomed ominously across the way.

Together they sat, just enough space between them that Amara didn’t feel intruded upon, and she found herself irked by it. As if she was now such damaged goods that she would forever be the broken butterfly to be protected rather than seen as a sensual woman again. Where on earth were these thoughts coming from? She was happy, she was safe, she was just grateful she no longer broke out in a cold sweat every time someone approached her, she reminded herselfscoldingly.

“You know, they put plays on here in the summer,” Theo told her, interrupting her thoughts. “Right there is where they usually do Shakespeare’s AMidsummer Night’s Dream.”

“Oh I loved that one!” Amara said with a laugh. “I played Titania in school but I always much preferred the character ofPuck.”

Theo threw his head back, the strong cords in his neck bulging as he let out a deep laugh. “That probably says a lot more about you than you want me toknow.”

Amara didn’t even realise she was staring at his neck until she looked up and he appeared to be waiting patiently for her to reply to a question she hadn’t heard.

“Sorry, what did yousay?”

“I asked if you were hungry after all that walking. There’s a little street vendor in the park that does a great pork and applebun.”

Amara scowled. “Do you only ever eat street food?” It had been all he’d offered her during their week of exploring together. She wasn’t so damaged that she didn’t notice he was feeding her comfort food. Again the knowledge irked at her.

“I mean you must eat proper meals. Look at you,” she continued, gesturing to the bulk of him.

Hesmiled.

“A proper meal is what you want? A proper meal we shall have.” He stood and this time he held out his hand to her. It was the first time Theo had offered physical contact since she’d flinched when he’d held her shoulder in the exhibition. Her heart thudded in her throat. It was a risky move on his part, but some instinct told her Theo never made risky moves unless he was almost certain they’d payoff.

She placed his hand in his.

The contact floored him. He felt the ichor run to his fingertips, the oath tugging into place firmly. The sheer strength of the bond was overwhelming. He felt instincts, old, old instincts rise to the fore. One by one, they roared to life, some he recognised, others he hadn’t felt in eons. One was ... new. Different. Odd. He rode the wave as each one ignited until he felt like he was burning up with it. Like the only way to get the heat off his back was to jump into the abyss, a cliff he hadn’t realised he was standing over.

He kept his back straight, muscles bunched, trying to not freak Amara out with the sheer weight of it all. Instead, he grounded into the weight of her palm in his. Her soft, small palm. He stroked the back of her hand, focusing on the feeling of her warm skin, soothing him until the flame of emotion retreated into dancing embers that settled in his chest. It felt like a crater had blasted through his chest and now there was molten lava quietly pulsing where his heart should have been.

“Ready?” Amara asked, a quizzical look on her face.

“Yes.”

Together they strolled to a café that looked busy but not full for a Wednesday lunchtime. That was always a good sign that the food would be excellent. He introduced Amara to haggis, and to his surprise, she tucked into it without so much as pulling a face. She wolfed down neeps and tatties before joining him in a whisky that burned the back of his throat and brought tears to both their eyes. He watched her carefully as she finished taking careful measured bites of the cute traditional Scottish cranachan that was held in the chocolate mould shaped like a cupcake, which had made her sigh when it arrived on the table. The way her tongue flicked over the final scoop of cream on her teaspoon before she sucked it clean made his trousers painfully tight.

“And I thought I could eat,” he murmured.

“Well, I was hungry.” Amara shrugged, defiantly. This bad-tempered version of her he liked. It was much better than the protective little mouse she’d been before. The fire in her called to him like a siren song.

Her stomach the next day, however, did not agree with the fact that she had gorged to the point of overindulgence. She hadn’t vomited since she’d finally had the nerve to talk to another stranger again after the incident, though she still woke up in night sweats sometimes. On those nights, she always had to get up to triple check the doors and windows were locked, before turning a light back on to help her get back to sleep.

But this feeling gnawing at her stomach was far worse. It felt like being stabbed with sharp, hot pokers. Her bowels protested and her monthly bleed arrived at the same time. Brilliant. Just fucking brilliant. On little sleep, the dull fatigue made her body feel heavier than usual. Her arms and legs felt weak and jelly-like. So she took to lying on the cool grey bathroom tiles waiting for the next round of cramps.

There was a knock on her door. Tentatively, she made a move to sit up against the bathroom wall and another cramp ripped through her, shredding her insides. She groaned, moving back to her porcelain seat. Moving towards the door was not an option. The visitor knocked twice more, but Amara was too weak to even call out.

What seemed like hours passed before she managed to stand shakily and wash her face when there was another knock. She shuffled out of the bathroom slowly, manoeuvring between the tiny space of her bed and the mini wardrobe to her right, before she reached the door. Opening it she found a white plastic bag, tied at the top into a bow. On a Post-it note attached to the bag, written in a strongly slanted curve, it read,

Could hear you calling from the porcelain toilet when I came by earlier. Here’s some soup − Theo.

The little gesture made her burst intotears.