Or if she merely hoped he was.
Even a week ago he might have gone along with the program and pretended that he was sleeping. But not tonight.
Once she’d settled back in bed and lay on her side with her back to him, he spoke.
“Why do you have those nightmares, Niall?”
Was it just his imagination, or did her body stiffen?
“Niall?” he repeated, trying to keep the alarm out of his voice when she didn’t respond.
She turned onto her back slowly and sighed.
“I’m sorry for waking you. Maybe I shouldn’t sleep over.”
His head came off the pillow. Her response infuriated him.
“I didn’t bring it up because I was worried about losing some sleep.”
“I know that,” she said quickly.
“Well, then?” he challenged.
He saw her lips part like she wanted to speak. But only silence ensued. His helpless fury faded when he realized how tense she was . . . how brittle. His arms abruptly encircled her, rolling her body into him. She felt so small pressed next to him, so precious. She still trembled. He realized with a pang of guilt that she was crying softly.
He cupped her head in his palm before he made soothing motions along her hair. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”
She just shook her head rapidly. Vic got the impression that something choked her ruthlessly, making speech impossible. When he realized that her own emotions were the culprit, his sense of powerlessness amplified.
He did the only thing he could do, and held her while she cried. Eventually she fell into an exhausted sleep with her head on his chest. Vic remained awake for the rest of the night, like a sentinel standing guard.
Maybe on some stupid, irrational level he believed he could protect Niall from her dreams.
TWELVE
Niall could hear the sound of a Salvation Army bell ringer in the distance along with the muted sound of carols being blared out of speakers at the German Christmas village erected every year in Daley Plaza. The city seemed to bustle with energy and purpose all around her, echoing her own sense of happiness and vibrancy. She smiled. The real reason that she was so happy felt like a precious, wonderful secret that was practically bursting to break free from her chest.
Niall was in love.
“What are you grinning like that for?” she heard Vic ask from beside her before he pressed a kiss on her neck just above her scarf.
Niall spun around and feasted on the sight of him. They stood together under the marquee of the Hesse Theater. She’d walked over after work and had been waiting for him so that they could do some Christmas shopping on State Street before they went to dinner.
Niall wondered how much her secret was broadcast loud and clear in her eyes when she saw Vic’s mouth curve as he looked down at her. Something inside of her belly did a flip-flop. She doubted that the sight of Vic’s sculpted lips tilting into a slow, sexy grin would ever leave her unaffected.
“I have a secret,” she told him with a significant look.
One dark eyebrow rose speculatively before he leaned down and kissed her on the lips. “Does it have to do with my Christmas present?” he teased. “I hope you remembered that I want only sex toys.”
“I’m sure that Meg, Tim, and your mother would be fascinated to see you take those out of your stocking,” Niall murmured contentedly as Vic brushed his lips across her nose and cheeks.
She’d been invited by Vic to spend Christmas at his farm downstate this coming weekend. She brimmed over with excitement at the prospect of seeing his home for the first time. She hadn’t seen Vic’s mother since the day after Vic’s opening five weeks ago, when Niall had given them a tour of the museum.
Meg had visited several times in the interim, however. She and Vic’s sister had gone to lunch twice when Meg came up to Chicago for a principals’ conference. Once Anne Rothman had joined them, and she and Meg had hit it off just as well as Meg and Niall had. Anne and Meg were the same age and discovered that they’d attended the University of Illinois in the same years and had some acquaintances in common. Niall had also met Tim, Meg’s husband, when the couple came to Chicago in order to do some Christmas shopping, and took Vic and Niall to dinner.
“If I were you, I’d give it to me in private,” Vic teased before he kissed her mouth.
“Your Christmas present isn’t my secret,” she replied with a mock superior look.
“Hmmm,” Vic murmured. “Better tell me what it is. I can see that you’re dying to.”
“It’s snowing,” she said softly.
Vic raised his head and inspected her with his penetrating stare. “That wasn’t the secret.”
Niall grinned as she reached for his hand and pulled him along next to her. “No. But let’s go enjoy it anyway.”
It did something to Vic to see the blissful expression on Niall’s face when they left the restaurant on State Street later that evening, carrying several shopping bags. Maybe it was the fact that he suspected his own countenance reflected some of those same feelings.
Or maybe it was just that he did a mental macho strut at the knowledge that Niall was so happy. He knew for a fact that her nightmares had decreased in frequency over the past month, because they spent a good majority of their nights in each other’s arms. He rarely saw that gut-twisting expression of sadness in her eyes anymore.
Of course, she’d never revealed to him why she looked so sad or had such frightening dreams. But why should that matter, really, if her nightmares became a thing of the past?