After toweling both of them off, he wrapped her in her robe while tiredly searching around for some night clothes. He cursed softly as he realized the few nightgowns he’d bought her were all sheer, lacy confections that would do absolutely nothing to warm her up. He managed to dig out a pair of her yoga pants before grabbing one of his own sweatshirts and some thick athletic socks.
Ian dressed her as though she were a little girl, a task made that much more difficult by her limp, uncooperative limbs. He tucked her into bed before belting on his own robe, then ventured downstairs to pour them each a brandy. He practically had to force the first few sips down her throat, until the liquor finally seemed to have its desired effect, warming her up enough so that she was able to drink the rest of it down on her own.
He slid into bed next to her, cuddling her still trembling body close, and stroking her hair comfortingly.
“Ian, I - ,” she began.
“Hush, love. Not now. We’re both exhausted. Sleep now and we’ll talk in the morning.”
She nodded, her eyelids drooping. “Okay.” She was unable to stifle a yawn as she whispered, “I love you.”
He kissed her forehead. “And I love you more than life itself, Tessa. Let’s rest now, my love.”
Chapter Eighteen
Tessa was groggy and disoriented when she woke in the big bed alone, and it took her a minute or two to get her bearings. She was startled to notice the time on the bedside clock – ten-thirty a.m. – and tried to remember what day of the week it was. When her brain was functioning enough for her to realize it was a Wednesday, she gave a little squeak of alarm and flung the covers back, in a total panic that she could have overslept this badly on a workday. Why hadn’t her alarm gone off? And why was she waking up in Ian’s bed in the middle of the week? Andrew must be having an absolute fit right about now given her unexcused absence. She looked around frantically for her phone or her purse so she could call him.
And then it hit her. Her phone and purse were gone. Consumed, no doubt, by the fire that had viciously ripped through her apartment building last night. Everything was gone – clothes, furniture, dishes, keepsakes. It was like the cruelest sort of déjà vu, for something this awful to happen to a person not once but twice in a lifetime.
Tessa sat down on the bed limply, too dazed and dispirited to move. Last night’s disaster had brought back far too many painful memories, ones she’d tried to repress for a long time. When she’d stood across the street from her apartment building as the flames moved through it, gutting it cruelly, she’d been reluctantly pulled back to that terrible night in Tucson. The night where she’d lost absolutely everything, including her poor, helpless mother, and when her life had been forever altered.
She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering a bit despite the oversized sweatshirt she wore that smelled like Ian. She still didn’t know how he’d come to be there last night, swooping in like a knight on horseback to rescue her, but she offered up a silent prayer for her good fortune. And while she knew this time would be different, that she wouldn’t be all alone and homeless and scared, that knowledge didn’t lessen the terror she still felt or the sense of empty despair.
She forced herself to wash up a bit, grimacing at the rather wild condition of her hair. She vaguely recalled Ian taking her into the shower, and assumed he’d washed her hair. Undoubtedly she’d fallen asleep with it still damp, which would account for its out of control waves this morning. She rummaged through the vanity drawers until she found a hair clip, and pulled her thick locks up into a messy ponytail.
Ian was in his home office when she ventured downstairs, and she could hear him talking to someone on the phone. Not wanting to disturb him, Tessa walked into the kitchen and plugged the electric kettle in to brew some tea. There was a crisp white bakery bag on the counter that she knew contained Ian’s favorite scones, but her stomach rebelled at the thought of food, even something as plain as the breakfast treat. She got one of the oversized white ceramic mugs that she loved from a cupboard and carried her steaming cup of tea as she went to find Ian.
He was just finishing up his call when he noticed her hovering in the doorway and beckoned her inside the room urgently. He disconnected the call and came to her, setting the mug aside as he cradled her close against his chest.
“Are you all right, Tessa?” he asked quietly, the concern evident in his voice.
She wrapped her arms around his waist, inhaling deeply of his wonderful, comforting scent and shrugged. “I don’t know how to answer that. Right now everything seems like a bad dream, one that I’ve unfortunately had before. I can’t – think straight, Ian. It’s just too much, you know?”