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he said curtly.
Kate looked incuriously at her wrists. He was right.
Beneath her pale skin blue veins stood out visibly. “They
always do when one is tired,” she pointed out. “I expect
yours do, too.”
He shrugged. “I am more used to late nights, perhaps.
You must stay in bed all day tomorrow. We do not want you
to be ill again. This has been an unfortunate holiday for
you.”
In more ways than one, she thought miserably. She
drank her tea and stood up to reach the towel he had placed
on the table for her. Marc walked to the side of her chair
and took it from her grasp, crouched down and lifted one of
her feet. She sat down again, suddenly, in case she fell over.
“I’ll do that,” she said quickly.
He took no notice of her. Gently, slowly, he wiped the foot
dry, holding it on his knee. Then he put it down on the floor
and took the other, and did the same.
Kate stood up quickly, her heart quickening. She
suddenly could not bear to be here with him any longer. It
was too agonising to have him being so kind in that
impersonal fashion. She did not want him to treat her as a
child. She was a woman.
“Good night, then,” she said brightly, edging towards the
door.
He smiled at her. “Sleep well. I’ll tell Sophia not to wake
you. You can stay in bed as long as you like.”
She nodded and opened the door.
“Kate,” he said suddenly, moving towards her. She
halted, looking round uneasily at something in his voice
