Slowly she turned. Her breath caught painfully in her lungs and she walked on shaking legs back to the fence. It took all her strength to haul herself up over the top rail with wobbly arms and stinging hands. Virtually falling over the fence, she managed to stay upright, pressing her feet firmly into the ground with each step to reassure herself she could still move. She walked slowly and steadily up the slope, determined not to look back over her shoulder. Every nerve ending was hyper aware and had switched to red alert, and her heart banged so hard in her chest she feared she might be sick at any minute. Still she walked until she reached the lee of the hill, hating the fact that he stood watching her defeat.

At the top, sickened by her fear, fury boiling up that he’d had the power to do this to her, she turned. The man had gone. She took in a sharp, harsh breath. Thank God. The relief made her almost crumple as every part of her began to shake. For a moment she couldn’t do anything. Her teeth started to chatter so hard, and then some instinct made her run. Run to the safety of the cottage. Like some scarecrow with scant control over her limbs, she tore across the field to the little yellow building that shouted sanctuary.

She half ran and half stumbled through the gate, throwing herself through the front door and slamming it behind her. Shelter. Safety. She bolted it top and bottom and then sank to the floor, her back sliding down the door, her legs completely giving out. Hot, fast tears came as she rested her forehead on one knee and all the fear that she’d tried to contain came flooding out in one horrible rush of sobs and gasps. Reaction, that’s all it was. But even as she tried to tell herself it was a logical response, she relived the awful memory of being so powerless and the tears ran faster.

‘Hannah?’

Her heart tripped at the sound of the voice and when she lifted her head, through the blur of tears, she saw the outline of someone coming towards her.

Chapter Seven

She shrank back against the door as the lilting voice filled with gentle concern murmured her name again.

Oh no, not Conor. What was he doing here? She closed her eyes and dropped her head back on her knees.

‘Hey, hey.’

He sat down next to her, slid an arm along her shoulders, and pulled her into his chest. ‘Hey. It’s OK. You’re OK.’

A soothing hand rubbed circles along her shoulder blade, grounding strokes that brought her back up from the terror that had clouded everything, and with her limbs still shaken and rubbery, even though it went against the grain, she sank into the comfort he offered.