He’d very nearly given up, the despair he felt sapping the little energy he had left, when he finally spotted her.

She was sitting by herself at a little corner table, her hair wildly tangled, and her face streaked with tears and soot. Someone, presumably the Red Cross, had given her one of those ultra-light space blankets, which she was huddled inside of, her body shivering with cold or more likely fear. Beneath the unsubstantial blanket, she wore only a pair of sleep shorts and a flimsy tank top, and her feet - Jesus - her feet were bare and dirty. She looked so forlorn and terrified that he wanted to weep. Instead, he pushed past all the other people milling aimlessly about until he was kneeling in front of her.

“Thank Christ,” he muttered hoarsely, taking her face between his hands. “God almighty, Tessa, tell me you’re all right.”

She gasped, her hands drifting up to cover his as the ridiculous excuse for a blanket fell away from her body. “Ian. Oh, my, God, how are you here? How did you find me?” Her voice was hoarse, either from crying or smoke inhalation.

He stood and lifted her into his arms, letting the blanket fall to the floor as he cradled her against his chest. “I’ll always find you, my love. Now, let’s get you out of this place and take you home.”

He carried her out of the restaurant, managing somehow to dig his phone out and pressthe speed dial for Simon’s number. The chauffeur answered on the first ring.

“I’ve got her, mate. Yes, unharmed so far as I can tell. Meet us on the southwest corner of the block, past the barricades. Be there shortly.”

He stuck the phone back in his pocket and hefted her a bit higher in his arms, scarcely noticing her weight. He would have gladly carried her for miles, crawled through the actual fire, or walked over broken glass, just as long as she was safe.

“Ian,” she murmured huskily. “Put me down. I’m too heavy for you to carry.”

“Hush, darling. It’s no bother at all, and you are not walking a step on these filthy sidewalks in bare feet. Ah, there’s Simon.”

Faithful, devoted Simon was standing anxiously by the side of the car as they arrived, holding the back door open.

“Give Miss Lockwood to me, sir, while you get inside,” offered Simon. “I’ve left a blanket on the back seat.”

Ian quickly shifted Tessa to Simon’s waiting arms, giving his loyal chauffeur an appreciative pat on the back. “You think of everything, mate. Thank Christ you were here tonight.”

He slid inside the town car as Simon gently set Tessa down on the seat next to him. Ian wasted no time in covering her shivering, scantily clad body with the much more substantial wool blanket, and then pulled her onto his lap as Simon started the car.

“I want you to be seen by a doctor,” he told her firmly. “Tonight. Simon, would you take us to the University Medical Center, please?”

“No,” she protested weakly. “Please, Ian, I just want to go - go home. The paramedics checked me out and aside from being in shock I’m okay.”

“Tessa, I would be much happier if you’d agree to this,” he argued. “Your voice - you must have inhaled a lot of smoke.”

She shook her head before resting it wearily on his shoulder. “Not so much. My voice - I think it’s like this from crying so much. I was so scared, Ian.”

“Christ, and I was terrified, Tessa, absolutely fucking terrified. I kept calling your phone numbers and when I didn’t get an answer, I started imagining all sorts of terrible things that could have happened to you. God knows this wasn’t one of them.”

Tessa began to cry, burying her face against his chest, and he rocked her gently, murmuring to her in a soothing voice. Her hair reeked of smoke, her face was grimy with tears and soot, and her body still shook uncontrollably within his arms. He rubbed his cheek against hers, uncaring that his skin, too, was now smudged, or that his suit would also begin to smell of smoke. The only thing he cared about was making sure Tessa was safe and well, to offer her comfort and shelter, and most of all, his love.

By the time they reached his house, he was almost numb with exhaustion, and was grateful for Simon’s assistance in bringing Tessa inside. She was nearly collapsing in shock and fatigue herself, but he forced himself to strip off their clothing before lifting her into a hot shower. While she sat slumped over in helpless surrender on the built-in bench, he shampooed her hair and soaped up her body, washing away all traces of soot and smoke. The water was almost scalding hot, but still her body felt chilled to his touch, and he forced himself not to panic, hoping it was only shock that was responsible for her continued shivering.

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 Fifteen

Tessa was groggy and disoriented when she woke in the big bed alone, and it took her a few minutes 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.