And how long had she been lying to herself? There was no telling. Probably as her body had matured and changed through the years, so had the need for sexual intimacy with him. But she had known what a terrible threat that could be for their relationship, so she had buried it, smothered it, never let it come to the surface.
Which is what she had to do again, she thought desperately. She had to keep what she had with Jock or he would eventually leave her, and she would be alone again.
She could do this. Evidently, she had buried that sexual response even from herself. It was only Darcy’s probing that had brought it to the surface. When she next saw Jock, she would see that she was back to normal. Maybe, in time, it would go away entirely.
But it was not going to be easy. It would be better if she didn’t lie here thinking about Jock or any of this sex business. She would get a glass of water and go over and sit on the window seat and watch the traffic on the street below. She always found the sound of traffic strangely soothing.
She needed soothing.
She tossed her blanket aside and headed for the bathroom.
She was acutely aware of the softness of the carpet under her bare feet as she crossed the room and the feel of her nightshirt rubbing against her bare breasts as she breathed in and out.
Heat. Throbbing. A clenching that she had never—
Stop it. Ignore it.
It was only that she had just discovered what was happening to her that made it so difficult to dismiss …
*
Darcy screamed!
Cara jerked upright on the window seat, her gaze flying to Darcy’s bed across the room.
She was tossing and turning, eyes closed, tears running down her cheeks.
Nightmare.
Cara had told Eve that it would be an intrusion to let Darcy know that she was aware of those terrible dreams that seemed to come so often.
But Darcy had never screamed like that before. And it could be that Darcy had been as disturbed as Cara before she had gone to sleep, and that had sent her spiraling down. Who knows what caused the phantoms of the mind to attack?
To hell with not intruding.
No one knew better than Cara how painful it was to face those phantoms alone. She was on her feet and across the room in a heartbeat. “Wake up, Darcy.” She was on the bed, gathering her close and rocking her back and forth. “It’s all over. It’s gone. It’s fine. Wake up now.”
Darcy was pushing her away. “It’s not fine.” The tears were still pouring down her cheeks. “It will never be fine again.” She was sobbing. “Not here. Empty. Always be empty…”
Cara took her shoulders and shook her. “Open your eyes, Darcy. Do you hear me? Wake up!”
Darcy slowly opened her eyes. “I hear you.” Her voice was slurred. Then she shook her head to clear it. “How could I help it? You’re almost shouting. What’s wrong with you anyway?”
“Not a thing,” she said, relieved. She sat up and swung her legs to the floor. “But there was something that was wrong with you. You just had a bad dream. But it’s over now.” She got to her feet. “I’ll get you a glass of water. Why don’t you grab a tissue and wipe your face? I’ll be right back.”
She went to the bathroom and stood there, letting the water run for a few minutes. It wouldn’t hurt to give Darcy a little time to regain her composure before she had to face someone who had seen how vulnerable she could be. Then she filled the glass and took the water out to her.
Darcy had turned on the lamp and was sitting up in bed. Her eyes were still red, but she was no longer crying. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.” She took the glass and took a sip. “It’s not as if I need anyone to—”
“I know you don’t,” Cara interrupted. “It’s probably embarrassing you, and that’s too bad. But I know about nightmares, and I couldn’t let it go on. I’ve had too many of my own.” She smiled. “It hurt me to see you hurting. So just consider that I did it for myself.”
Darcy nodded slowly. “I’ll try not to bother you again.” She tried to smile. “Evidently, I cause you trouble whether I’m awake or asleep. I wouldn’t blame you if you put in a request for a new roommate.”
“Why? Most of the time we get along fine. We can get through this.” She looked her in the eye. “You told me that everyone has secrets. What’s more secret or personal than a nightmare? You just have to promise to be there for me when I have mine.” She paused. “And let me choose what other secrets … or information I want to share with you.”
She was silent. “Oh, I’ll be there for you when you have to fight off the nightmares, Cara.” Then she smiled. “Now that last is going to be difficult, but I’ll work on it. You may have to slap me down occasionally.”
“I can do that.” Cara took the empty glass and set it on the nightstand. “Now can we try to get to sleep?” She got into bed and pulled up the covers. “It seems like a long time since we came back from dinner…”
A time that had been filled with changes and uncertainties. Nightmares and revelations that had given her a new view on Darcy Nichols.
And one stunning self-revelation that might become a terrifying nightmare of her own.
*
The light in the cottage was burning bright.
Eve Duncan was working late on the skull as she had every night since he’d given her the gift, Norwalk knew. Was she coming close?
According to his research on her, she must be very close. Even when she was working at a steady pace, it seldom took her more than five or six days to complete a reconstruction. When she was driven, sometimes only three or four.
Norwalk smiled. And you’re driven, aren’t you, Eve? I did that to you.
It was exhilarating having that much power over a woman who possessed so much power herself. He would have more power soon, but for now this was enough. It was according to plan, and the plan was everything.
But the front door was opening, and Joe Quinn was coming out as he had every night since Norwalk had given the skull to Eve Duncan.
Too bad. He was very far away from the cottage and was having to watch it through binoculars, but he knew he would still have to leave now that Quinn was on the move. Quinn was painstakingly thorough as he’d noticed the night he’d dropped off the box with the skull. And he was an ex-SEAL and not someone Norwalk wanted to deal with right now. Quinn would search the entire area thoroughly before he’d go back to Duncan and his son.
… And that blackened monstrosity of a skull that was now ruling that house because Norwalk had willed it so.
*
“You’re going to work on Sylvie tonight?” Michael asked drowsily as Eve tucked him into bed. “I’m glad … she’s been waiting for a long time.”
“By the time I get them, they’ve all been waiting for a while.” Eve pulled his blanket higher around his throat. There was nothing more wonderful than a glowing, beautiful child who was just on the edge of slumber. “Do you know once I did a reconstruction on a woman who was over two thousand years old?”
“You never told me that. Neat.”
“It doesn’t matter how long they’ve been waiting. It’s still my job to bring them home.”
He nodded, his eyes closing. “But Sylvie is kind of special, isn’t she?”
“Maybe. But it could be because she’s the one I’m working on tonight.”
He shook his head. “You don’t like what he did to her…”
“No,” she said softly. “Neither do you. I remember, you did tell me to fix her.”
“She’s already fixed inside … You need to match it…”
He was asleep.
Beautifully asleep.
She leaned closer and touched that warm, silky cheek with her index finger.
Strange, she felt as if that mystical strength that belonged to all children and Michael, in particular, was pouring into her from that featherlight contact.
Whimsical nonsense. But she had learned a lot about whimsy since Michael had come into her life. Accept it. Enjoy it.
She got to her feet, leaned forward, and brushed a kiss on her son’s forehead. “Sleep well,” she whispered. “Tomorrow.”
She turned out his lamp and glided toward the door.