But Emma persuaded him to take her home. He might not admit that he himself was worn-out, but he’d given in for her sake. Janey greeted them at the door to his house, her indignant yowls letting Emma know she was not pleased by her empty supper dish. “Yes, you’re so neglected,” Emma cooed, cuddling the cat to her. She smiled at Graham over the top of the cat’s head. “As soon as she’s fed, all I want is a hot shower, a glass of wine and a bowl of soup,” she said. “You get your shower first,” he said. “I’ll open the wine.” “I like the way you think.” As soon as Janey was purring over a bowl of Seafood Deluxe, she headed for the bedroom, stripping on her way to the shower, where she stood under the spray with her eyes closed, letting the hot water pummel away all the pain and fear of the past thirty-six hours. She emerged from the bathroom a half hour later, hair freshly washed and blow-dried, her body shaved and moisturized and smelling of vanilla and lavender.
