LITMIR.BIZ

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him now with worry. She’d heard something in his voice. Seen something on his face? ‘Leo, what’s wrong with you?’

      ‘Nothing that getting Anna out of our hospital won’t fix. Let’s move.’

      * * *

      Leo had written her up for painkillers, so Anna had slept. She’d had some breakfast. A very young nurse had helped her shower, washing away the worst of the bloodstains. She’d be wearing a scarf for a while but she was feeling a lot more in control.

      She needed to get out of Leo’s hospital.

      Her tiny room was clean but shabby, with faded linoleum, a stark iron bedstead, a small wheeled table and nothing else. Its one high window looked out onto a brick wall and the light was from a single bulb, hanging high. It was hardly a room for feeling better in, she thought. It felt more like a cell.

      Had Leo put her in here purposely? Was it the worst room he could find?

      She wanted to leave, now.

      Victoir turned up soon after breakfast with her suitcase. He was appalled—appalled!—by what had happened and his volubility made her tired. She persuaded him to disappear while she rid herself of the hospital gown, but the effort of tugging on jeans and T-shirt made her feel woozy. She settled back on the bed, and almost immediately Victoir reappeared, this time carrying a sheaf of documents so thick the ache in her head surged back.

      ‘I can’t read them here,’ she told him. ‘And I need legal advice if they’re to do with the estate. Victoir, I’ll take them back to England with me and get them checked.’

      ‘I’ve only brought you the urgent ones,’ he told her. ‘These are things that can’t wait. Like blocking those tunnels. I warned you. The sooner they’re blocked—’

      ‘The sooner you can start turning the castle into your dream apartments?’

      The voice from the doorway made them both start. Leo. Of course it was. Victoir swivelled and scowled, and Anna flinched—which was stupid. She wasn’t afraid of Leo.

      She was afraid of how he made her feel.

      ‘Good morning,’ he said, edging into the tiny room. ‘Victoir, can I ask you to leave while I check Ms Castlavara’s condition?’

      ‘I’m Anna Raymond,’ she threw at him.

      ‘You own the castle. This entire country knows you as the Castlavaran and I’m not about to argue with my country. Victoir...’

      ‘Ms Raymond’s about to sign some papers,’ Victoir snapped. ‘They’re urgent.’

      ‘More important than Anna’s health?’

      ‘What gives you the right to call her Anna?’

      ‘I believe she gave me the right some years ago,’ he said, meeting Victoir’s challenge head on. ‘When we met at medical school.’

      What the...? Was Leo about to discuss their past history in front of Victoir? She felt herself go cold at the thought.

      ‘We did meet while studying medicine,’ she said, hurriedly and grudgingly. ‘And he might as well use my first name if the alternative’s Castlavara. Victoir, I’m sorry but I’m signing nothing now. Dr... Leo will tell you that I’ve been taking strong painkillers, so nothing I sign now will be legally binding anyway.’

      ‘You’re fine,’ Victoir snapped. ‘No one will argue.’

      ‘I’ll argue,’ Leo said smoothly. ‘Victoir, leave.’

      ‘Please, Victoir,’ Anna added. ‘And take the papers with you. Honestly, I’m fuzzy.’

      He knew when he was beaten. He cast her a look of frustration, but then softened.

      ‘I’m sorry. You’re right, you’re in no condition to consider. But we’ll get you home as soon as possible. You’ll need a couple of days’ recuperation—your castle accommodation will be a far cry from this.’ And he cast the room a disgusted glance, Leo an angry one, and stalked out.

      Leaving her with Leo, which left her feeling weird. Alone, vulnerable...scared?

      ‘Don’t you have a nurse accompany you on your rounds?’ she asked, and for the life of her she couldn’t stop herself sounding like some sort of sulky adolescent.

      ‘If I was in England maybe I would,’ he told her. ‘But nurses cost money and this hospital has no money. We run on a skeleton staff. This whole country runs on a skeleton staff.’

      It was an accusation.

      She didn’t know how to answer. He was watching her like she was some sort of unknown entity, certainly not like a woman who’d slept in his arms, who’d shared his life...

      Don’t go there, she told herself fiercely. Move on.

      ‘My head’s fine,’ she told him. ‘I’m fine.’ Being dressed should make her feel better, more in control. It didn’t. Somehow it made her feel defenceless.

      The hurt she’d felt ten years ago was all around her. It was ridiculous, she told herself. You didn’t mourn a lost love for ten years.

      But the hurt had gone bone deep, and it was surfacing again now. This guy was too tall, his eyes were too dark. His hair was too black. He was too much the same as he’d been all those years ago.

      ‘If you’re running on a skeleton staff then I’m taking up a bed,’ she managed. ‘Discharge me now, Leo. The sooner I get out of this cell the happier I’ll be.’

      ‘Cell?’

      ‘This room’s awful. Why on earth don’t you paint it?’

      He didn’t answer. The look on his face, though...

      Uh-oh. She watched his fingers clench into fists at his sides, and then slowly unclench, as if he was counting to ten, and then to twenty, and then maybe to whatever it took to hold his temper.

      ‘We have two private rooms in this entire hospital,’ he said at last. ‘We reserve them for those who desperately need privacy, usually those in the last days of their lives. We had a death just before you were admitted, which left this room free. Because of your...because of who you are...we believed a single room was imperative. Believe it or not, if we’d put you in a shared ward you would have had half the country visiting the patient in the next bed, just to get a look at you. So we did you a kindness. We put you in what’s one of our best rooms.’

      ‘Best rooms...’

      ‘I told you, skeleton staff, minuscule budget, that’s what we have. But certainly I’m happy for you to go. We started you on antibiotics last night. You can go as soon as the script’s filled. Continue them for the full course—there are bats in those underground vaults and they carry infection. I can’t imagine what Victoir was about, taking you down there without protective gear.’

      ‘He was proving the place was unsafe.’ There were a hundred other things she could have said but she couldn’t get her tongue around any of them.

      ‘It is unsafe. Obviously. But not if you know what you’re doing.’

      ‘You’ve been down there?’

      ‘I’d imagine every adventurous child living within a couple of miles of the castle has been down there.’

      ‘Bats or not?’

      ‘They add to the challenge.’

      ‘Surely my cousin didn’t let kids into the castle.’

      ‘There are entrances from outside the castle walls. No one’s ever blocked them off. Your cousin and your uncle and your grandfather before him didn’t give a toss what went on under the castle, as long as no one bothered their secluded, indolent lives. Let’s get your head checked and get you out of here.’

      ‘So

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