[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
mending this wall be-tween them. Not now anyway. She was going to get on her
bathing suit, go downstairs, and lie on the beach until the aching stopped. And then
she'd think about going home. She could catch a flight back to Atlanta and have
Mike meet her. She could always leave a note for Cal. Not that he'd mind, she was
sure. It wouldn't bother him that much to lose afriend.And no doubt the Oriental
woman could con-sole him. . . .
She got up and put on the black and white striped swimsuit she'd brought along,
sliding her arms into a white beach robe. Maybe the sun would get her mind off it.
The beach wasn't crowded, probably because most of the tourists were still at
lunch, so Nikki picked a place near the water. Shelaid down on her stomach on the
wildly striped beach towel, pausing to unclip the halter of the two-piece suit so that
she wouldn't have a line across her back from the suntan. Then she closed her eyes,
wiped everything out of her mind, and let the warm sun and watery sound of the
surf relax her into a sweet, light sleep.
She awoke to the sound of children laughing near-by.To the murmur of voices. And
to a sensation like blistering all over her back.
Her eyes flew open and the sensation got worse by the second. Her back felt stiff,
the skin felt as if it had been violently stretched over it until it was to the point of
bursting. There was the feel of a giant blister to it, and she knew before she eased
the halter clip painfully together that she'd made a terrible mistake in
lettingherself go to sleep.
The backs of her legs were red, too, but a glance over her shoulder told her
belatedly that her back was in much worse shape. With a faint moan, she picked up
the towel, slipped into her beach shoes, and went back up to her rooms.
She stripped off the halter and backed up to a full-length mirror in the bathroom,
wincing when she saw what she'd accomplished with her impulsive-ness.
"Leave it to you," she muttered at her pouting reflection. One side of her face was
redder than the other, too, and already she was wondering how she was going to be
able to bear anything against her back. She felt faintly nauseated as well. If only
she could get some cream on that blistered skin. But how was she going to reach
behind her? And worst of all, how was she going to get home? It would be absolute
torture to try to sit in an airplane seat—assuming that she could get a dress on
over it.
She took the tube of suntan lotion and squeezed out a glob of it, easing it over the
portions of her back that she could reach. She winced even at her own light touch.
What was she going to do now?
With a muffled sob ather own stupidity she walked back into her bedroom, a towel
clutched to her breasts, and lay face down on the quilted cover-let. It looked as if
she might have to spend the rest of her life that way.
A few minutes later there was a light tap at the door, followed byGenner's polite
voice. "Miss Blake?" he called.
She relaxed. She'd been afraid that it was Cal, but she might have known that
he'd never tap lightly at anyone's door. In the mood he'd been in earlier, he was
more likely to kick it down.
"Yes,Genner ?" she called back, her voice weak.
"May I bring you anything, madam?" he replied. "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner,
but as I explained to Mr. Steel, I was delayed at the post office."
"No, thank you,Genner ," she replied. "I. . . I just thought I'd lie down for a while.
I've been on the beach and I'm . . . tired," she added.
"If I can be of assistance, please call," he told her, and his footsteps went away.
Nothing short of new skin on her back would be of any immediate assistance, but
she couldn't tell him that. What was she going to do?
She got up and fished a couple of aspirin out of her suitcase. With her
susceptibility to medicine they'd knock her out for at least a couple of hours and
spare her that much pain. She swallowed them with a glass of water and lay back
down on the bed. Minutes later she fell asleep.
A deep voice cut through her restless dream and woke her up, along with a far
from gentle touch on her arm.
Shegasped, half rising from the bed before she realized that there was nothing
protecting her bare torso from Callaway Steel's dark, angry eyes.
With a gasp she dropped back down onto the bed, her face matching color with her
back.
"Where did you come from?" she asked drowsily.
"That's a long story," he replied. "What the hell have you done to yourself? Do you
realize that you've got a second-degree burn on your back? You little fool, I could
beat you!"
"Anywhere but on my back, please," she whis-pered, with a weak attempt at humor.
"I didn't mean to go to sleep in the sun . . ."
He was unscrewing the cap on some cream while she spoke. He noticed her pointed
glance at it. "It's an analgesic cream, to take some of the sting out. If you're not
better by the morning, you'll see a doctor. Now grit your teeth. This is going to
hurt like hell."
She chewed on her lip instead, wincing at even the gentle touch of his big hand as
it smoothed the cool cream against the angry burn on her back.
"You crazy idiot," he growled as he smeared it on, taut anger in every hard line of
his face. "Why the hell didn't you stay in your room and throw things? There are
kinder ways of getting back at a man."
"I wasn't getting back at you," she ground out. "I'm not that petty that I'd do
myself in just to get at you," she informed him stiffly. "I just went to sleep, that's
all."
"Well, you won't sleep much now," he said with venom in his deep voice.
Tears welled up in her eyes. "And it will serve me right, won't it? Why don't you
smooth some vinegar on it . . .?"
"That's enough." His tone was uncompromising, and full of authority. He finished
rubbing in the cream. "Genner, bring me a cold, wet cloth."
"Yes, sir,"Genner replied from somewhere near the doorway, his pleasant voice
concerned. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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mending this wall be-tween them. Not now anyway. She was going to get on her
bathing suit, go downstairs, and lie on the beach until the aching stopped. And then
she'd think about going home. She could catch a flight back to Atlanta and have
Mike meet her. She could always leave a note for Cal. Not that he'd mind, she was
sure. It wouldn't bother him that much to lose afriend.And no doubt the Oriental
woman could con-sole him. . . .
She got up and put on the black and white striped swimsuit she'd brought along,
sliding her arms into a white beach robe. Maybe the sun would get her mind off it.
The beach wasn't crowded, probably because most of the tourists were still at
lunch, so Nikki picked a place near the water. Shelaid down on her stomach on the
wildly striped beach towel, pausing to unclip the halter of the two-piece suit so that
she wouldn't have a line across her back from the suntan. Then she closed her eyes,
wiped everything out of her mind, and let the warm sun and watery sound of the
surf relax her into a sweet, light sleep.
She awoke to the sound of children laughing near-by.To the murmur of voices. And
to a sensation like blistering all over her back.
Her eyes flew open and the sensation got worse by the second. Her back felt stiff,
the skin felt as if it had been violently stretched over it until it was to the point of
bursting. There was the feel of a giant blister to it, and she knew before she eased
the halter clip painfully together that she'd made a terrible mistake in
lettingherself go to sleep.
The backs of her legs were red, too, but a glance over her shoulder told her
belatedly that her back was in much worse shape. With a faint moan, she picked up
the towel, slipped into her beach shoes, and went back up to her rooms.
She stripped off the halter and backed up to a full-length mirror in the bathroom,
wincing when she saw what she'd accomplished with her impulsive-ness.
"Leave it to you," she muttered at her pouting reflection. One side of her face was
redder than the other, too, and already she was wondering how she was going to be
able to bear anything against her back. She felt faintly nauseated as well. If only
she could get some cream on that blistered skin. But how was she going to reach
behind her? And worst of all, how was she going to get home? It would be absolute
torture to try to sit in an airplane seat—assuming that she could get a dress on
over it.
She took the tube of suntan lotion and squeezed out a glob of it, easing it over the
portions of her back that she could reach. She winced even at her own light touch.
What was she going to do now?
With a muffled sob ather own stupidity she walked back into her bedroom, a towel
clutched to her breasts, and lay face down on the quilted cover-let. It looked as if
she might have to spend the rest of her life that way.
A few minutes later there was a light tap at the door, followed byGenner's polite
voice. "Miss Blake?" he called.
She relaxed. She'd been afraid that it was Cal, but she might have known that
he'd never tap lightly at anyone's door. In the mood he'd been in earlier, he was
more likely to kick it down.
"Yes,Genner ?" she called back, her voice weak.
"May I bring you anything, madam?" he replied. "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner,
but as I explained to Mr. Steel, I was delayed at the post office."
"No, thank you,Genner ," she replied. "I. . . I just thought I'd lie down for a while.
I've been on the beach and I'm . . . tired," she added.
"If I can be of assistance, please call," he told her, and his footsteps went away.
Nothing short of new skin on her back would be of any immediate assistance, but
she couldn't tell him that. What was she going to do?
She got up and fished a couple of aspirin out of her suitcase. With her
susceptibility to medicine they'd knock her out for at least a couple of hours and
spare her that much pain. She swallowed them with a glass of water and lay back
down on the bed. Minutes later she fell asleep.
A deep voice cut through her restless dream and woke her up, along with a far
from gentle touch on her arm.
Shegasped, half rising from the bed before she realized that there was nothing
protecting her bare torso from Callaway Steel's dark, angry eyes.
With a gasp she dropped back down onto the bed, her face matching color with her
back.
"Where did you come from?" she asked drowsily.
"That's a long story," he replied. "What the hell have you done to yourself? Do you
realize that you've got a second-degree burn on your back? You little fool, I could
beat you!"
"Anywhere but on my back, please," she whis-pered, with a weak attempt at humor.
"I didn't mean to go to sleep in the sun . . ."
He was unscrewing the cap on some cream while she spoke. He noticed her pointed
glance at it. "It's an analgesic cream, to take some of the sting out. If you're not
better by the morning, you'll see a doctor. Now grit your teeth. This is going to
hurt like hell."
She chewed on her lip instead, wincing at even the gentle touch of his big hand as
it smoothed the cool cream against the angry burn on her back.
"You crazy idiot," he growled as he smeared it on, taut anger in every hard line of
his face. "Why the hell didn't you stay in your room and throw things? There are
kinder ways of getting back at a man."
"I wasn't getting back at you," she ground out. "I'm not that petty that I'd do
myself in just to get at you," she informed him stiffly. "I just went to sleep, that's
all."
"Well, you won't sleep much now," he said with venom in his deep voice.
Tears welled up in her eyes. "And it will serve me right, won't it? Why don't you
smooth some vinegar on it . . .?"
"That's enough." His tone was uncompromising, and full of authority. He finished
rubbing in the cream. "Genner, bring me a cold, wet cloth."
"Yes, sir,"Genner replied from somewhere near the doorway, his pleasant voice
concerned. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]