he murmured.She clenched his shirt in her fists. She mustn’t keep taking consolation from him—it wasn’t fair. He was going to leave—she couldn’t start relying on him.But his arms were tight around her, and he smelled lovely, of warm male and subtle aftershave and a slight hint of the chocolate chip cookie he’d had at Ash’s house. It was an enticing mix, and suddenly she couldn’t bear to let him go.He took her keys off her, reached out and unlocked the door. Then, still with one arm around her, he took her inside and closed the door behind them.He led her over to the sofa, took off her coat, and she sat, her face in her hands, unable to stop the tears flowing. She heard him moving around, putting on the lamp and lighting the gas fire, and for a moment his feet echoed down the corridor, either to the bathroom or to her bedroom. After a few minutes he went into the kitchen and poured a glass of water. He came back in and rustled around in her handbag, and then he was pushing the glass into her hand, along with a couple of the painkillers.She took them because she was tired of the pain and didn’t have the energy to fight him any longer, and he stood there and waited until she’d swallowed them before taking the glass back off her and placing it on the table.Then he sat next to her and pulled her into his arms.She curled up beside him, trying to concentrate on nothing more than drinking in the comfort and security he somehow seemed to radiate.He stretched out his long legs and made himself comfortable, and kissed the top of her head.
