The Other Side - J. D. Robb [37]
“The worst of your courses? Yes. Except for the bleeding. That usually lasts about four days for me.”
“That had better be the worst part of my being in your body.”
Exactly what was he going to do if there was worse to come? “This will pass, Harry,” she said again. “But you will still have to look in the mirror every day. For me, that is the worst part of this switch. Every time I see your face where mine should be, I’m shocked all over again. And your body feels strange.”
“Oh, that I understand completely. You have no idea how odd I feel.” Harry paused. “Or maybe you do.”
Bettina glanced back at Harry, his brain surrounded by her dark hair, green eyes, clear skin. She shut her eyes tight. If this went on much longer, she was going to have to find a way to rise above the upset it caused.
“I can’t take the pain, Bettina,” Harry said as another cramp struck. “Bring me some brandy. I’ll drink it away.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I never do that, and we have to preserve the façade that life is normal for as long as we can.”
“The façade being all there is.” He struggled into a sitting position. “At least you have something beautiful to look at.”
Oh, she thought, that was rather sweet.
“Did Freeba interrupt Roberts while he was shaving my face?”
Bettina nodded.
“How unfortunate. You know how disreputable I look with a day’s growth of beard. Go back and allow him to finish.”
“Believe me, Harry, the state of your beard is the least of our problems.”
Another cramp seemed to convince him that she was right. “God help me, we have to find a way to undo this damned curse.” He covered his face with the bed linen and groaned.
Bettina pulled the chair from in front of the secretary, amazed at how light it felt. With a firm grasp she tested her man’s strength and easily lifted it, moving the chair to the side of the bed so she could face Harry.
She straddled the chair with her arms folded on the back of it. Just because she could. Trousers were as comfortable as they looked, even if she did feel self-conscious showing off the turn of her ankle and leg. Or rather Harry’s ankle and leg.
“Harry,” she said and waited until he pulled the linen down and she could see her face. She stared at it, trying to see him somewhere inside her. “The thing is, Harry, I don’t think this is a curse.”
“Semantics, Bettina. You made a wish, and God help us, it came true. Now we have to undo it.” The last word was followed by a grunt of discomfort.
“I was not the only one who made a wish.”
“Where is the coin?” Harry asked, apparently intending to ignore that fact.
“The one you threw at me after you made your wish?” Bettina insisted, but did not wait for an answer. “How should I know? Didn’t we look everywhere last night? Today, when you are up and dressed, you must order the staff to search again. Roll up the rugs, move the furniture. It must be in this room somewhere.”
Bettina stood up and pushed the window curtains open. Sun poured into the room, and she turned quickly, hoping to see the morning light glint off the coin. She circled the room, even looked under the bed. Nothing.
“It cannot have rolled out the door. The door was closed,” Harry said, pushing the covers back but not rising from the bed. “Where did it come from? Maybe there is another one like it.”
“Harry, do you truly think there are two coins that grant wishes?”
“It’s the pain.” His voice sounded suspiciously tear-filled.
Until he was comfortable she would not be able to reason with him. Harry was such a bear when he was ill.
The countess strode to the door, doing her best to imitate a man’s stride. It was something she would have to practice. It felt forceful and aggressive, like she wanted to challenge someone to a shouting match.
Is that how men felt, or was it just that this sort of walk was not natural to a woman’s sensibilities?
As she expected, Freeba was attending the door.
“Bring the warmed soother.”
“I offered it to her, my lord, and have it at the ready, but the countess used