Page 26 of Just One Night Together
“I’ll find it. Close your eyes and take a deep breath.”
The nurse’s hands landed on Natasha’s shoulders, warm and strong. Her hands were smaller than Damon’s and she didn’t have the same confidence, but the repetitive circles felt so very good. Natasha took a deep breath and exhaled, imagining that she was breathing out all the pain. The familiar scent of the oil helped put her in the place where the pain was less.
“Very good,” the nurse said softly, her hands easing to the base of Natasha’s spine. “How about a few more of those?”
Natasha did as she suggested, feeling the doubts and the aches slide out of her body. She was vaguely aware that the beep of the monitor slowed, but didn’t much care. There was only the smooth and gentle pressure of hands upon her skin and the stillness of her room. She exhaled the pain and the worry, and felt the nurse’s youthful strength flow into her.
A pretty young nurse, one who showed compassion for a patient and made time.
Natasha’s eyes opened for a moment. “It feels so good,” she said. “Thank you.”
“Oh, you’re welcome. You’re the one helping me.”
Natasha smiled. “Am I?”
“Of course. I’m just learning.” Their conversation was leisurely, with long pauses. Natasha thought it was lovely. “Is this better? Or is this?”
“The second one.”
The nurse worked that rhythm for a while, making Natasha feel like warm putty beneath her hands.
“This?” she asked finally. “Or this?”
“The first one.” Natasha sighed contentment. “You could do that all day.”
The nurse chuckled a little. “No, not really. My shift starts in half an hour. I can do it for a while, though.”
Natasha blinked. “You’re not working now?”
“Shh, don’t fret about it. I’m glad to do this.”
Natasha’s throat tightened at her kindness. “At least tell me your name.” She would do something to see the nurse compensated for her gesture. This talk of Natasha helping her was nonsense. There was expertise in her hands.
“It’s Haley.” The nurse pulled back the sheet and began to work on Natasha’s calves. She had a knack of finding just the right spot and working her thumb against it in a way that made Natasha sigh. The massage wasn’t as thorough as Damon’s, but it was very, very good. “Good?”
“Wonderful.” She eventually broke the silence that had stretched between them again. “I’m Natasha.”
“What a pretty name.”
“It’s Russian. I’m Russian, or I was.”
“And what brought you to New York, Natasha?”
“Ballet.”
“Oh, you’re a dancer. That explains your feet.” Haley stroked the arch of one foot and ran her thumb down to the toes, which were bent from years of dancing in toe shoes.
Natasha smiled. “It’s a discipline.”
“I’ll say. It takes a lot of dedication to dance the ballet. You have my admiration.” Her hands swept over Natasha, returning to her calves, then moving toward her thighs. “You were in a company, then?”
“Yes. We came to dance at the Lincoln Center.”
“If ballet brought you to New York, what made you stay?”
“Love.”
“Oh, I was hoping you’d say that,” Haley said so lightly that Natasha sensed she didn’t believe her own words. “I like when love wins the day.”
