Crave Page 80

And then it hit her. Her phone and purse were gone. Consumed, no doubt, by the fire that had viciously ripped through her apartment building last night. Everything was gone - clothes, furniture, dishes, keepsakes. It was like the cruelest sort of déjà vu, for something this awful to happen to a person not once but twice in a lifetime.

Tessa sat down on the bed limply, too dazed and dispirited to move. Last night’s disaster had brought back far too many painful memories, ones she’d tried to repress for a long time. When she’d stood across the street from her apartment building as the flames moved through it, gutting it cruelly, she’d been reluctantly pulled back to that terrible night in Tucson. The night where she’d lost absolutely everything, including her poor, helpless mother, and when her life had been forever altered.

She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering a bit despite the oversized sweatshirt she wore that smelled like Ian. She still didn’t know how he’d come to be there last night, swooping in like a knight on horseback to rescue her, but she offered up a silent prayer for her good fortune. And while she knew this time would be different, that she wouldn’t be all alone and homeless and scared, that knowledge didn’t lessen the terror she still felt or the sense of empty despair.

She forced herself to wash up a bit, grimacing at the rather wild condition of her hair. She vaguely recalled Ian taking her into the shower, and washing her hair. Undoubtedly she’d fallen asleep with it still damp, which would account for its out of control waves this morning. She rummaged through the vanity drawers until she found a hair clip, and pulled her thick locks up into a messy ponytail.

Ian was in his home office when she ventured downstairs, and she could hear him talking to someone on the phone. Not wanting to disturb him, Tessa walked into the kitchen and plugged the electric kettle in to brew some tea. There was a crisp white bakery bag on the counter that she knew contained Ian’s favorite scones, but her stomach rebelled at the thought of food. She got one of the oversized white mugs that were her favorites from a cupboard, and carried her steaming cup of tea as she went to find Ian.

He was just finishing up his call when he noticed her hovering in the doorway, and beckoned her inside the room urgently. He disconnected the call and came to her, setting the mug aside as he cradled her close against his chest.

“Are you all right, Tessa?” he asked quietly, the concern evident in his voice.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, inhaling deeply of his wonderful, comforting scent and shrugged. “I don’t know how to answer that. Right now everything seems like a bad dream, one that I’ve unfortunately had before. I can’t even think straight, Ian. It’s just too much, you know?”

He kissed the top of her head. “I know, love. Let’s sit over here while you have your tea. Did you eat anything?”

“No, I’m not the least bit hungry.”

Ian frowned as she curled up on the sofa, and he handed her the mug. “You need to eat, darling. After all, you’ve just gone through a tremendous shock.”

She shook her head. “Maybe later, all right? Not now. I just - can’t.”

“All right,” he relented gently. “But one thing I won’t take no for an answer on is the doctor’s appointment I made for you. It’s at three o’clock today, and I’ll drag you there kicking and screaming if I have to. I won’t be satisfied until you’ve been thoroughly checked over.”

Tessa sighed. “All right, you win. But I really, really need to call the office before anything else. I’m sure Andrew is not especially pleased with me right now.”

“Don’t worry about Andrew,” assured Ian. “I sent him a quick text last night and called him when I got up this morning. He doesn’t expect you in until Monday.”

She gaped at him in astonishment. “Um, what exactly did you tell him?”

He took her hand in his. “The truth, darling. All of it. No point in lying to him, he’s like a bloody hound dog sniffing out a clue at times. You can’t get anything by that boy, he’s far too clever for his own good.”

Tessa stared down into her mug. “He - he’s trustworthy, right? I mean, he won’t say anything -”

“He won’t say a word,” confirmed Ian. “Andrew has proven his loyalty to me - and to you, I might add - time and time again over the years. He might be a royal pain in the arse most of the time, but there’s no denying his devotion.” He brought her hand to his lips. “And he’s very supportive of our relationship. Cheeky bastard actually had the nerve to tell me he’s known from the very beginning that I fancied you.”

In spite of herself, Tessa couldn’t suppress a giggle. “Well, not much gets past him, that’s for sure.”

Ian brushed his thumb over her knuckles. “I also told him to expect your resignation on his desk very soon. He’s not especially pleased about that, swears you’re the only truly dependable one among the team, but understands why it has to happen. And he’s quite happy that you’ll eventually be traveling with me as my PA. Of course, he has ulterior motives there.”

Tessa smiled. “It will save him some work, I’m sure. Work he can delegate to me.”

“Spot on, love.” He placed an arm around her shoulders, easing her head against his chest. “Are you up to talking about what happened last night, or do you need some time?”

She buried her face against his chest. “All the time in the world won’t make it easier, so I might as well get it over with. But before I do - how on earth did you happen to be there last night? Your flight wasn’t due in until this evening.”

Ian gently massaged the back of her neck, working on a stiff spot until she felt like purring. “The board meetings wrapped up a day earlier than expected. I confess to having pushed the agenda along a bit each day in the hopes that we could eliminate a day. I was desperate to see you by then, even by a few hours, and changed my flight. Which turned out to be the flight from hell.”

Tessa listened in sympathy as he told her about the mishaps he’d encountered during the flight - the long delay for takeoff, more turbulence than expected, the cramped seat in coach, his noisy neighbors.

“None of that matters,” he told her firmly. “I’d have flown home in an aircraft carrier or a cargo plane in order to see you a day early. The only thing I really curse is the delay in leaving London. If we’d taken off on time, I would have been able to pick you up and have you here at the house well before the fire started.”

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