There would be an investigation, Draco had been told, and even though the building was insured and Blair had insurance to cover loss of business, the stark impact of the smoldering, sodden, charcoaled ruin that had been her livelihood rammed home with a finality that no one could deny.
Blair got out of the car as the fire department cordoned off the remnant of what had been her home and her life. Deep shudders rocked through her body. There was nothing left. Absolutely nothing. Her legs began to buckle beneath her, but strong arms closed around her, lifting her off her feet and carrying her back to the limousine.
She didn’t even have the energy left to protest. What was the point? Every last thing that had mattered to her was irrevocably burned to the ground.
Draco took her back to his apartment and she dragged in a breath of the sea air as they got out of the car. But still the scent of burning dreams remained lodged in her nostrils. She made no protest as he guided her to the elevator that sped them upstairs to his penthouse suite, and was docile as a baby as he stepped into the shower with her, both of them fully dressed, and began to peel away her clothes under the warm flow of water.
He tossed their wet clothes out of the shower door and they fell in a sooty, sodden mess she was too tired and broken to care about. With tender hands Draco shampooed her hair and rinsed it out before repeating the action, then with a soft cloth and liquid gel soap he gently washed her whole body until the water pooling around her feet ran clear.
Once she was clean, he switched off the water, dried her and dressed her in one of his oversize T-shirts, then slid her between the cool cotton sheets of his bed. Then and only then did Blair allow her mind to let go of the horrors of the night, and let sleep claim her.
Blair woke hours later to the drone of male voices from the other room. Her throat still felt raspy, and she gratefully reached for the bottle of water that Draco had no doubt placed at her bedside while she slept. As she let the deliciously clear liquid slide down her throat she heard Draco’s voice.
“And the baby? The baby will be all right?”
He must have called a doctor. She listened as the voices grew more distant, and then heard the faint sound of the front door being opened and closed.
She sank back against the sheets, feeling more lost and alone than she ever had in her entire life. The baby was still his primary concern. Yes, she knew it should be hers too, but just for once, the little girl buried deep inside her cried, why couldn’t it be her?
She cast a blurry gaze over at the bedside alarm clock and sat upright when she saw how late it was. Her father’s surgery would be over by now. She was supposed to have been with him before he went in, and then later when he was moved from recovery.
Blair swung her legs over the bed and put her feet on the floor, but before she could stand Draco was there at her side.
“Can I help you? Do you need the bathroom?”
She shook her head; she didn’t need his solicitous behavior. It wasn’t as if he truly cared about her, anyway.
“No,” she said, her voice rougher than usual, “I need to get to the hospital to see my father. He’ll be worried.”
Draco gently pushed her back down onto the bed.
“Your father has come through his surgery with flying colors, you don’t need to worry. And the surgeon explained to him why you couldn’t be there. He’s sleeping now, and I have one of my people there to let us know the minute he wakes. If you’re up to it, I’ll take you to see him myself.”
Blair allowed him to lift her legs and tuck them back under the covers. Then, to her surprise, he sat down on the bed next to her.
“We can rebuild, you know,” he said softly.
“Rebuild? The restaurant?”
An image flashed in her mind of the carnage the fire had wrought. It would take a hell of a lot to rebuild. A lot of money and time, neither of which she had at her disposal. But then again, she didn’t own the building, did she? Draco did.
She remembered what she’d said to him as he’d arrived at the scene and had the grace to blush. She’d been overwrought. Why on earth would he do something as destructive as set fire to his own building? She wanted to apologize, but the words stuck in her throat.
“Yes, the restaurant. There are many photos of the exterior. We could rebuild, using recycled timbers wherever possible, and remain true to the original building. It will be better than before. We can ensure that it has all the charm of the old restaurant, but with all the convenience and functionality of a new one. What do you say?”
“Is that what you want to do?” she asked tentatively.
“How can it not be what I want, Blair, when it is so important to you?”