Come Lie With Me - Linda Howard [63]
Chapter Nine
The sudden lancing of light across the dark gallery made her heart leap into her throat, and she turned her head to the left to wearily eye the sliding doors to Blake’s room, where the light was coming from. What had awakened him? When the glass doors remained closed, she turned back to stare out again into the blackness of the garden. She hoped he wouldn’t come looking for her; she didn’t think she could face him right then. Perhaps in the morning, when she was dressed in her familiar “therapist uniform” of shorts and a T-shirt and they were involved in the routine of exercise. Perhaps then she’d have herself under control and could act as if nothing unusual had happened. But now she felt raw and bleeding, every nerve exposed. Wearily she leaned her head against the railing, not even feeling how cold she’d become.
A whirr came to her ears and she lifted her head, frowning. It was coming from her room…then it stopped just behind her, and she knew. Blake had used the wheelchair, because he could get around faster in it than he could using the walker. Her entire body tensed as she listened to him getting out of the chair, struggling for balance, but she didn’t dare look around. She kept her forehead pressed against the cold metal of the railing, hoping without belief that he’d realize she didn’t want to be disturbed and leave her alone.
First she felt his hands, gripping her shoulders, then the hard, warm press of his body against her back and the stirring of his breath in her hair. “Dee, you’re freezing,” he murmured. “Come inside. We’ll talk there, and I’ll get you warm.”
She swallowed. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“There’s everything to talk about,” he said, a hardness that she’d never heard before in his voice making her shudder in reaction. He felt the ripple of her muscles under his fingers and pulled her closer to him. “Your skin is icy, and you’re coming in with me now. You’re in shock, honey, and you need to be taken care of. I thought I understood, but you threw me for a loop tonight. I don’t know what it is you’re hiding, what you’re afraid of, but I’m damned well going to find out before this night is over.”
“The night is over,” she told him thinly. “It’s morning now.”
“Don’t argue with me. In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have a stitch of clothing on and I’m freezing, but I’m staying right here with you. If you don’t come inside I’ll probably catch pneumonia and undo all the progress you’ve worked for. Come on,” he said, his tone changing into one of cajolery. “You don’t have to be afraid. We’ll just talk.”
She shook her head, her long hair flying wildly and striking him in the face. “You don’t understand. I’m not afraid of you; I never have been.”
“Well, that’s something,” he muttered, dropping his arm to her waist and urging her to turn. She gave up and dully let him guide her inside, with his using her for balance. His pace was slow but remarkably steady, and he didn’t really put any of his weight on her. He stopped to close the sliding doors, then guided her to the bed.
“Here, get under the covers,” he ordered as he bent down to switch on the lamp. “How long have you been out there? Even the room is cold.”
She shrugged; it didn’t really matter how long it had been, did it? She did as he said and crawled into the bed, pulling the thick comforter up to her neck. Blake studied her pale, set expression for a moment, and his lips pressed grimly together. He lifted the cover and slid into the bed next to her, and she stared at him in shock.
“I’m cold, too,” he said, and it was only half a lie. He slid his arm under her neck