Her dreams were feverish, troubled, she was perspiring heavily, her temperature must have broken and she was hallucinating. At one point, she felt that Bryan was there, touching her, taking her nightdress off, she moaned in protest, so hot that it was as of she was on fire. He wiped her sweating face with a cool, damp sponge and she sighed gratefully.Gn his hands gently began to stroke her body, sponging her breasts, her flat belly, her thighs, another sort of heat began to burn in her and she groaned, putting her hand out, closing her fingers round his, holding his hands between her thighs.
'Byran', she whispered shuddering and heard his sharp intake of breath.
For a second, neither of them moved and then he moved her hand aside without a word, began to pay her skin dry softly. The heat in her subsided. She felt cooler, her head clearer. Bryan whispered 'Go back to sleep now'.
But she was asleep or dreaming? she thought dazedly be ause it was so real, the desire had been so piercing she couldn't believe that she had dreamt it. She opened her eyes and looked around for him but he wasn't there. Her bedroom was shadowy but empty. She had been hallucinating or dreaming afterall.
With a sigh, she went back to sleep but now her sleep was deeper, less troubled and she no longer sweated the way she had.
The next time she woke, the light had altered, it was dark. She had no idea what time it was. A second later, she heard a sound that really woke her. She couldn't think what it was at first, then she knew. Breathing. Someone was breathing. In the room. Near her.
Nerves made her knuckles tighten, her pulse rate quicken
She carefully flicked her eyes around the shadowy room without moving her head and tensed as she saw a dark shape just a few feet from her.
Her nerves raw, she knew at once that it was a man and her fear made her sweat. Then she took another hurried terrified look and her heard turned over with a crash. Bryan! She looked again to make certain but there was no doubt about it, it was him.
She had heard the front door shut, how had he got back inside here? Or hadn't he gone at all?
She tried to steady her pulse, calm down, before she spoke but her voice still quivered when she broke out, 'What the hell are you doing in my bedroom?'
He gave an audible start as though he had been half asleep too, then he leaned forward, switching the lamp beside her bed. She blinked, half blinded by the light, tried to see him through the dazzle. He was sitting in a small armchair he must have brought in there from her sitting room. He still had his immaculate Savile Row suit on but his short collar lay open, his tie was off and she could still see the deep yan of his throat, a sprinkling of tiny dark hairs on his upper chest. She swallowed convulsively
'How do you feel now?' he asked in a voice so casual that it made her mood shoot sky high with rage.
'Never mind how I feel', she retorted. 'Tell me why you 're still here in my flat. I thought I heard you leave - didn't you go?'
He took a key out of his jacket pocket and laid it on the bedside table.
She stared at it dumbfounded. 'That is....'
'Your front door key', he agreed. 'You left it lying here. I saw it when I came at lunchtime, so I picked it up and used it to get back in later'.
'You had no right to do that?'
'No', he said without seeming bothered by the admission. 'But I was worried about you'.
She bit her lips, disarmed. 'Oh. Well... that was kind, but even so...you shouldn't have done it all the same. I was fine. All I needed was sleep'.
He didn't comment on that, just stood up, dwarfing her, making her throat leap with a wild pulse. 'Can I get you anything? Good? A drink? You should be drinking plenty of fluids'.
There was a jug of lemon barley water and a glass on her bedside table. 'This is fine and I can manage, thanks', she said stiffly. 'It was kind of you to be concerned and I am touched, really but I think that it is time for you to go now'.
'I think you should call a doctor - let me ting him....' he began but she interrupted very crossly, her face flushed.
'No, thank you. I can ring him myself I want him. I'd rather you left now, please'.
'I don't think you are in any condition to look after yourself. This is the second bout of flu, you've had this winter, you must be run down or under stress - isn't that what they say often causes illness?'
She didn't like the hidden insinuation. 'The only stress I am suffering from is having to put up with you!' she said coldly.
'That was what I meant', he said softly and her pulse went haywire again. To cover her confusion, she snapped back at him.
'Look, I want to get to the bathroom, so will you get out of my flat?'
'What's the problem, Sharon?', he drawled. 'I am not going to turn dangerous at the sight of you in your nightie getting out of bed. We're way past that, you and I'.
She glared and found that she could not wait any longer, she had to go to the lavatory. She slid out of bed, picked up her dressing gown and pit it on as she ran out of the room.
It was as she was cleaning her teeth a few moments later, staring at her reflection in the mirror above the sink that she suddenly noticed her nightdress.
It was not the one she had put on first thing this morning. That had been white lawn, sprinkled with blue violas, the one she had on now was crisp white cotton striped with yellow.
She stared rigid with shock, rinsed her mouth and washed her face, dried it, moving like an automaton, her brain racing. She must be going crazy. She must have changed the nightgown during the day and simply forgotten.
She turned to leave the bathroom and that was when she noticed the wicker laundry basket, the lid was slightly askew and she could see something blue inside. She lifted the lid with a shaky hand. The viola sprinkled nightdress lay on top of the clothes she had worn and discarded yesterday.
She closed her eyes, thinking of her hallucinations or dreams: the fever making her sweat, her sheets burning, then Bryan coming, taking of her nightdress, the cool moist sponge on her body the clean nightdress going on.
She dropped the lid back on the basket as though it held a snake which might bite her, reached for the door and went out to confront him.