‘Jess, you’re not to focus on this,’ he told her, his voice, like his touch, strong and warm and sure. ‘You’re here as our guest for as long as you need before you feel strong enough to face the world.’

‘I’m well now.’ She opened her eyes and he was close, she thought, dazed. Too close.

‘You’ve had a hell of a time,’ he told her. ‘And maybe not just this week?’

It was a question. She swallowed. This man was wounded too, she thought.

‘We’re a pair,’ she whispered and there was a stillness.

‘I…’

‘I’ll leave you as soon as I can pack,’ she said wearily. ‘I’m fine. It was very good of you to let me stay this long.’

‘Jess, as soon as you leave this place you’ll be inundated,’ he said warningly. ‘The world’s Press want interviews. This tragedy has caught the attention of the international media and you won’t be left alone. Plus after six days in bed you’ll be as weak as a kitten. Stay here. Within the walls of this castle I can protect you. At least for the next few days. Outside…I’m afraid you’re alone.’

Silence.

Within the walls of this castle he’d protect her?

It was crazy. She didn’t need protection.

She couldn’t stay.

Where could she go?

Home?

Home was where the heart was.

She had no home.

‘Stay for a few more days.’ It was Louise, gently adding her urging to her son’s. ‘We feel so responsible. You have no idea what the Press will be like. You seem exhausted. Let us give you just a little time out.’

Time out.

It was an idea that was almost incredibly appealing. And it was the only thing she could think of to do. What else? Pick up the threads?

What threads?

She was bone-weary and she was faced with a choice. These pillows and the protection of castle walls for a few more days-or the scrutiny of the world’s Press. There was suddenly no choice. Especially as Raoul was smiling down at her like…like…