Sunshine and the Shadowmaster by Christine Rimmer

time.
    She had to do something to make herself settle down.
    Maybe a glass of warm milk would do it.
    With a little moan of frustrated weariness, she climbed from the bed, pulled on her robe and made her way down the stairs to the kitchen.
    She didn’t realize Lucas was sitting there at the table until she put her hand on the light switch and his voice came out of the dark.
    â€œDon’t turn it on.”
    Heather froze. “Are you all right?”
    â€œJust don’t turn it on.”
    She dropped her hand. “Okay.”
    He moved a little in the chair, then confessed, “I couldn’t sleep. I came out here. To work.”
    She made out the shape of the laptop computer on the table before him. The screen was dark.
    Lucas grunted. “Hell, who do I think I’m kidding? There’s no hope for work right now. I really came out here because I couldn’t stand being alone with myself in the bedroom.” He let out an ugly bark of laughter. “But you know what? It doesn’t matter where I am. It’s just as bad one place as another. There’s no rest and there’s no peace.”
    Heather knew exactly what he meant. She left the doorway and went to stand near him. He was watching her, through the darkness.
    How she ached for him. And for herself. And for anyone and everyone awake and suffering in the depths of an endless night.
    â€œWhat?” He sounded wary. “What is it, Heather?”
    She felt so terribly drawn to him. And she longed so to touch him. Before she could catch herself, she reached out and pushed her fingers through his dark hair. The strands were silky, as she’d known they would be, silky and warm.
    For a moment, he was very still. And then, slowly, he moved his head to the side, away from her caress.
    His eyes shone at her, deep and knowing, through the dark. “Go back to bed, Heather.”
    She knew he was right. That was what she should do: turn around and go back up the stairs to her room. And her lonely bed.
    But she didn’t move. She just stood there. His words of the night before came into her mind: Making love can soothe pain, help you forget your loneliness for a while...
    â€œListen.” His voice was flat. “You don’t want to do anything you’ll regret later.”
    â€œI won’t—”
    He cut off her denials. “Don’t tell me lies.”
    She dared to reach out once more, this time laying her hand against his cheek. It was wet, as she had known it would be, with tears he hadn’t wanted her to see. He stiffened.
    â€œDon’t,” she murmured urgently. “Don’t back away. Please.”
    He took in a long breath and slowly released it. Then he was still, allowing her to touch him. She brushed at the tears, oh so gently, with her thumb. “Lucas, I...”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI...” Her throat closed off. She tried again and somehow managed to get the words out. “I don’t want to go back to bed alone.”
    He captured her wrist then. “Why?”
    â€œOh, Lucas.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause...I hurt for you.”
    â€œPity.” He made a sound of disgust.
    â€œNo. Not pity. Understanding. And not only that. Not only for you. But for me, too. For my pain. And my loneliness. And for all the awful, endless nights alone.” She closed her eyes, seeking the words, finding them at last. “I guess in a way, I’ve been dead myself, since last winter. And with Mark gone, the world seems a grim and dangerous place. But when I touch you, I feel alive again....”
    He was still holding her wrist. Her heart seemed to stop as he turned her hand over, carefully pried open her fingers and placed a kiss in the center of her palm. A shiver coursed through her at the touch of his lips and her heart started beating again.
    â€œWhat about tomorrow?” His breath was warm against her palm. “How will you feel