Composed again, I open the door. Nate sits on the bed watching. He's pale too, face lined by tiredness.

"Don't say a word," I warn. "Could you let me dress please?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Haha."

"Your phone rang."

I s.n.a.t.c.h the phone from the bedside table. Marcia. Some would have Mum as the contact name, but she's a brick in my secret wall. Nine a.m. c.r.a.p. I've missed talking to Josh.

"You okay?" asks Nate.

"I will be, once I've dressed and returned this call." Nate lies back on the bed and stretches out. "What are you doing?"

"Going back to sleep?"

"What? No."

"I didn't sleep very well, Riley, and I drank too much. It's not as if I need to be anywhere."

Do I tell him to get up and leave? I'm in the weaker position here; I already had my hands on him once today and I can't have him concluding that's why I want him out of the room. Nate's sure to grab any excuse to move into innuendo and teasing, and I've given him a lot of ammunition.

"We don't share a bed again, and we do not talk about this," I say in a low voice.

"Sure thing, Smiley." He grins at the ceiling.

I grab my clothes from the chair I draped them over last night and walk back into the bathroom to change.

I live in the twenty-first century so why the h.e.l.l can't this situation be resolved? If I have to stay in this pub another day I might just trek to the next village and plead with somebody to take me into town.

The other people are friendly, and we've learned to respect each other's privacy but the claustrophobia stifles me. I've run out of things to say to Val and Becca, and my panic over what work I'm missing means I spend futile time trying to get back on top of things. With each e-mail I answer or problem I solve, five more appear, and my hands are tied by my location. Then there's the big event next month I really can't screw up.

Each time I attempt to let go, thoughts of work intrude.

Nate remained in bed all morning, again, and I spent the time at my usual table by the open fire with my phone and laptop.

This is b.l.o.o.d.y ridiculous. Three days. We now have a "maybe" rather than a "no," but the thaw that set in yesterday froze again overnight. I'm increasingly frustrated with only managing half of my work from clients, and I've missed meetings with potential new ones.

I miss Josh and my absence intensifies the "I'm a failure as a mother" feelings that follow me around in my life, but then I rationalise I didn't choose the situation I'm in. But if I hadn't travelled to Newcastle... If I hadn't taken a lift with Nate... My life is one long string of ifs.

I'll avoid Nate when he reappears because my emotional state destabilises more as each hour pa.s.ses, and I'm struggling to hold myself together. Nothing is in my control - my environment, my work, and my feelings for Nate.

I'm alone in the kitchen eating a sandwich for lunch when a damp-haired Nate appears. The scent of my body wash pa.s.ses with him and I sigh inwardly. He's back in his usual jeans and T-shirt, which is not helpful because my eyes are drawn to his a.s.s and long legs, the body I was draped over this morning. Heat stirs in my belly. Jesus, Riley.

"Are you feeling okay?" I ask him as he pulls a mug from the draining board.

"What do you mean?"

I gesture at the mug with the teabag string hanging over the side. "Tea? Not beer?"

Confusion tugs at his brow. "What? You want one?"

"Sure, not every day a rock star makes me a cup of tea."

Nate shrugs and turns back to his tea making. A few silent minutes later, weak tea sloshes from a chipped mug he places in front of me.

"This is driving me f.u.c.king nuts," he grumbles. "How do you stand staying inside all the time?"

"I have nowhere else to go."

Nate gulps back the hot tea and I wince. How does he not scald himself? "Wanna go for a walk?"

"Uh. No. My shoes aren't up to more arctic expeditions."

"Val has some wellies. I'm sure you could borrow them."

"I'll pa.s.s, thanks." I sip my tea.

"Riley, I'm trying here." He slumps in his seat.

"Trying to do what exactly?"

"Have a conversation. Be nice. Can you do the same? It makes things easier."

"I am being nice."

The look of disbelief Nate gives me irritates me. I am. Jason and Becca's voices laugh and shriek outside as we lapse into silence.

"I wasn't teasing you before. Being with you again... takes me back and not just to the bad stuff," Nate says finally.

I grip my mug handle. "What are you saying?"

"We were in the wrong time, wrong place, and screwed up by misunderstandings."

"Misunderstandings? I misunderstood that you were an arrogant jerk?"

Nate stands and shoves his chair back, hard. "You know what, Riley? f.u.c.k it. I thought I was the one with issues but you... you take the f.u.c.king biscuit."

I stand too. "You made me look like an idiot in Paris. The desperate PR girl chasing the rock star who screwed her and walked away."

"We never did, and I never told anybody we had!"

"But you let them think it. "

"You wanted to though, whatever you say now."

My mouth falls open. "That's exactly what I'm talking about! There's self-a.s.sured and there's... you."

He crosses his arms. "Look at this morning; you were all over me."

"I was asleep!"

Nate closes in on me. "Admit it, come on. I'm fed up with this bulls.h.i.t. Let's get this over with."

Last night in bed I was free to move away from him, now I'm backed against the fridge, s.p.a.ce between our bodies more charged than when we lay closer, clothed, in bed together.

"Nate, no."

"Look at us," he whispers and touches my cheek. I jerk as if he's shocked me. "Underneath all this b.i.t.c.hing and fighting is frustration. You b.l.o.o.d.y know that's true."

"You don't respect girls. You have no respect for me," I say, then hold my breath against him.

"Hypocrite. You casually hook-up with guys. Do you respect them after? Why should f.u.c.king me be any different?"

The word slaps me. "I don't f.u.c.k! You make it sound like I screw a guy the first time I meet him. It's not like that, I don't." Time to swerve this conversation. "Besides, I don't have to see them again."

"When we're back in London, we don't need to see each other again."

Nate's arm slides beneath my thin top, his lips below my ear, and the involuntary tremors of my body's usual reaction to him run through me.

"You know it's true, Riley." My b.r.e.a.s.t.s press against his chest, aching and heavy as his fingers on my skin flick the switch to wanting him. "Come on. I promise you'll enjoy it."

Nate kisses beneath my ear, placing his lips on my pulse point and I'm engulfed. Mustering as much of the ebbing dislike for the man I have left, I shove him away. "I am not going to f.u.c.k you!" I shout.

I catch sight of Val in the kitchen doorway. Nate turns as she walks in, shoving his hands in his pockets with a rueful smile.

A wide-eyed Val looks between us. This is bad. Awful. I need out of this kitchen and situation, stat. "I'm really sorry, Val. I-"

I swear Nate laughs under his breath. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

Gulping back the rising embarra.s.sment, I excuse myself and walk into the open bar area. I'm more out of control than I thought, and can't believe I shouted about - and looked like I was about to have - s.e.x with Nate. And in earshot of other people.

I don't give a c.r.a.p that my thin shoes won't stand up to the snow and ice; I need to get out of here now. Tears I've held onto for days spill, chilling my cheeks. The salty taste reaches my lips and hopelessness sneaks in.

The bright blue sky and sunshine are a world away from the evening Nate dragged me up the hill into the pub, and only now as I walk away do I realise how suffocated I've been.

I trudge through the snow; if I knew which direction I was heading, it wouldn't matter because the white world is uniform. A few hundred metres from the pub, across what I think is the road, a low drystone wall emerges. I brush the snow from the top and sit, breathing in the cool air. My breath mists in front of me and I blow the air in and out, watching to calm myself. My head hurts as I control the emotion flowing. If I let go now, I'll collapse into a mess of fear and regret. This isn't the place or time to allow this.

I switch focus away from what's happening inside to the freshness of the world around me. The panorama of the moors is stunning and unreal compared to my usual cityscapes, and I lose myself in a place outside my aching head.

I should spend time in the countryside more often. I go to the park with Josh near our house, but we never go further afield. The traffic noise and fumes are never far; here is isolated and if I weren't stuck, I'd enjoy the peace.

Now could be time to attempt another holiday. When I'm home, I'll arrange something; somewhere hot and sunny, removed from everything.

I'm too busy dreaming about sun-soaked beaches and watching my breath mist to notice Nate approach until I hear his footsteps crunch across the snow. I focus on the ground instead and wipe a thin sleeve across my face, thankful my cheeks are pink from the cold. As if Nate would notice or care if I cry. I straighten and ready myself for the next onslaught; if he touches me again, I'll b.l.o.o.d.y slap him.

"I thought your shoes were useless for walking in the snow?" he asks.

I wriggle my toes and they squelch. "They are but I had to leave. I'm mortified by what Val heard me say to you."

Sitting next to me, Nate shoves his hands in his jacket pockets. "You're not coping with this situation are you?"

"I'm trying. Switching off helps, but I'm going stir crazy. I need to get home." I wince as my voice cracks.

Nate looks at my reddened eyes and his mouth tightens. "I shouldn't have behaved the way I did in the kitchen."

"Why did you? Why do you treat me like that?"

Nate takes a deep breath, and sighs. "Habit. I like making you mad and how you react is funny." He pauses. "And sometimes it turns me on."

His admission pushes more frustrated tears into my eyes and I cover my face. "I don't want to hear any more of this. Please leave me alone, Nate."

Nate pulls my hands away and I stiffen in surprise as he rubs my fingers between his palms, the friction warming them.

"Usually you fight back; I didn't realise I was upsetting you."

"You're clueless. How could you possibly think being such a pig won't upset me?"

"Because... I don't know."

I stare down at his fingers encircling mine. "Nate, why are you holding my hands?"

"I don't know that either."

I don't pull my hands away, and he doesn't let go. The still surrounds us as we sit in our weird, white world, looking at each other. Nate's eyes burn into mine, the way he does when trying to see behind my walls. How long before Nate looks long and hard enough, and sees right through me?

He tightens his grip. "Weird how stepping out of life changes the world. This is the first time I've been ordinary Nate for three years. I let go of the outside world for a few days because I don't have any choice, you should too. Stop trying to keep hold of the PR career girl, she doesn't belong here."

"I know. But the last time I was ordinary Riley was five years ago, and I'm not sure where she is."

"I met her more than once," he says in a quiet voice and squeezes my fingers. "I'd like to spend time with the Riley I met in the bar, back when we weren't connected to our real life."

"But I'm not her."

"You didn't need to listen to me that night, or... well, that disaster, but you did. Why?"

"I don't know. You looked lost and I must be a sucker for that."

"Not because it's me?" The way he says the words doesn't hold the usual arrogant tone, but are said with a softness to match his expression.

"Maybe a little. But you never made me feel you wanted more from me. On tour you were still picking up groupies every night."

Nate shifts closer. "We weren't together. We didn't want to be."

"I know. You never made me any promises."