Enrique had managed to make his friend laugh, and had succeeded in getting Diego to drink one glass of wine. Enrique was well aware of the overwhelming grief Diego had suffered with the loss of Victoria, and had remarked on Diego's determination to work himself into an early grave.

"Really, Enrique, I am just fulfilling my duties as a son. My father manages well enough now, but there will be a time when he won't."

"Just so, and very admirable sensibilities in any son," Enrique said. "But must you do the work of manager and vaquero?"

"The men had a hard time accepting my judgement earlier on. I don't have the reputation of a hard worker, Enrique. I had to earn their respect."

"I was sorry to hear about your son."

"Yes. Well."

"Grief makes us do strange things, Diego." It was a cryptic remark, and Diego was a little confused, and wary of asking for explanation.

"It's good that you are spending a bit of time away from the cattle and with your wife."

Diego flushed a little, and put the wine glass down. It was still half full. "That was very blunt, Enrique."

"Sometimes, someone needs to be."

Diego nodded. His eyes flashed with contained annoyance and he sighed the tension away.

"I am tired, Enrique. You wouldn't believe how tired," Diego sighed. He hadn't slept the previous night, and the night before hadn't been restful either. "The wine…" He smiled a little. "I am not used to it."

"I know," Enrique said with a smile. "Your tolerance for it has been reduced to a school boy."

"Well, my friend," Diego murmured. "Before I ape my younger self and bring embarrassment to myself and my family, I should take myself off to bed."

Enrique laughed softly. "I remember those days," he said. "Pity they didn't last."

Diego chuckled a little, shaking his head.

Zzz

Diego entered the bedroom slowly, so as not to disturb a sleeping wife. Glancing across at the little figure on the settee near the window, he frowned a little. She looked so vulnerable and helpless, but was so stubborn and impulsive…What was he to do with her, really?

He had removed his shirt in the process of changing from his day clothes to a crisp white nightshirt, when he heard a gasp and an answering sob.

"Katherine?" He said, glancing across at his wife. "Are you alright?"

She was starting to toss and turn, and he moved towards her.

"No…no…please…" She whispered, and the fear in her voice sent a shudder through him. No one should ever be that frightened. "Don't…."

He crouched beside her, and gently shook her shoulder. "Katherine, wake up. You're having a nightmare."

Katherine opened her eyes and gave a tiny scream, before realising who he was. She flung her arms around him, and he could feel her whole body shaking.

"Diego, save me," she whispered. Tears had formed and were running down her cheeks silently. "Please, help me."

He scooped her up into his arms, and took her over to the bed.

"You are having the bed, Katherine. No doubt the discomfort of the settee brought on these terrible dreams," he said firmly. "I will take the floor."

He hadn't factored in the enormity of her terror. Her arms were not letting go of him for a moment.

"Please, don't leave me. He'll find me, he'll kill me."

"No one will harm you, Katherine," Diego said.

"Please, can you sleep with me?" The question startled him for a moment. It should have been a wonderful suggestion, he realised with a slight frown, but now he would have to be in bed with a woman who was his wife, and keep his hands from wandering.

"Please?"

"Of course," Diego said, forcing a smile to his face. At least no one needed to sleep on the floor…

"I have these dreams sometimes," she murmured, "and I seem to remember everything. When I wake up, the memories vanish…"

"Whoever your abductors were, they are in England. You are safe here," Diego soothed. "Try to relax, Katherine."

"I just want to know who it was. A face to rationalise about. A shadow, and a mask…It makes me tremble with every shadow."

"I see," Diego murmured. "Shall I finish dressing in my nightshirt?"

She stared at him with interest, only just realising he was bare chested. Her face slowly flushed, and she moved her eyes slowly from his chest to his face.

"If that will make you more comfortable…"

Diego paused and considered the statement. What did that mean? Was she attracted to him? A step in the right direction, perhaps?

"I only sought to keep you happy, Katherine. If you have no objection, I would prefer to sleep like this. It is rather warm tonight."

He drew the light blankets around her, aware that she still shivered. She made herself more comfortable by lying down beside him, although she turned over onto her side, with her back towards him.

"I won't touch you, if you don't want me to," he assured her.

"Can you hold me? It makes me feel safe, Diego. I hate to be a problem, and you think I am a goose, but it helps…"

Another step forward, perhaps. He lay on his side, and draped a strong arm around her, carefully avoiding sensitive areas that might alarm her.

"You are not being a goose. I still have nightmares. They are easing lately, but the flashbacks feel completely real. I know how it is. I can picture what you must have gone through. Victoria…" He closed his eyes, trying to force the image from his mind. "I have to live with the fact that I had to watch them hurt her, and there was nothing I could do, nothing at all."

"It would have been terrible, Diego."

He was silent. Running a gentle hand over her back, he felt the tense muscles. "Could I rub your back perhaps? It might ease some of your fears," he suggested. He gently demonstrated, and she sighed softly.

"That is nice. If you want to…?" She sighed again, as his hands moved across from her shoulders, to the mid point of her back.

"Try to relax. Nothing and no one will hurt you. I will not leave you," Diego murmured softly in her ear. "I will not touch you in any other way, I swear."

She closed her eyes, and focused on the moving hands, warm and caressing. "You won't ask anything further of me?"

"No." His voice was deep and rich in the darkness. "Nothing at all."

Her heart sank a little. His hands were making her imagination run a little wild. It was good, wasn't it? No pressure. No revisiting old memories of pain and terror. She almost trusted him, she realised, but there was something he was hiding. She didn't know the full character of the man she had married.

"Thank you, Diego," she whispered.

Diego was a little more encouraged than he had been for weeks. His wife was in bed with him, albeit a shaking, shivering mess. She was allowing him to touch her, not in a completely intimate way, but definitely in a sensual way. If he moved slightly too close, he could feel her flinch – an instinctive reaction inspired by terror. He doubted she was fully aware of her reaction though.

His hands explored her back, her skin feeling soft under her nightdress. She was warm and finely muscled under his fingers. It was surprising, but not surprising. She was a very active woman. Horses and outdoor activities were what she craved the most. She sighed a little, her breathing evened out, and he knew she was asleep.

He stopped rubbing her back, and she murmured in her sleep. He watched as she settled into a rhythmic pattern of breathing again, and relaxed onto his back. She startled a little, and he moved onto his side again, to maintain the position of his arms around her. Closing his eyes, he was prepared to doze for a few hours, but found himself drifting into a deep sleep himself.