Page 40 of Conail
"Just don't want to put you out again. You being here is not part of the agreement."
For some reason, it made him angry that she had mentioned it. What the hell was going on with him? She was right. What was he doing here? Lounging at her bedside as if he had any business doing so. And his trip to China and Italy had been far from restful. Productive certainly, but that was all.
He had spent the entire three weeks thinking of her. And had called his mother for updates every other day. When he heard she had been rushed to the hospital, he had come straight from the private air strip. He had been traveling for the entire day, and it was catching up to him.
"You're right." He shoved back the chair so hard, it tumbled backwards. "I should go home and get some sleep. The chair was damned uncomfortable."
"You should have asked them for a fold out bed," she suggested.
Or come and joined me like you did before. The thought slithered inside her head before she could stop it and had her sucking in a breath.
"You should go." She went on the defensive immediately. She needed some time to try and sort through the minefield of emotions tumbling around inside her. She could chalk it down to hormones and the fact that for the past few days, she had been through hell and back, but it did not mask the fact that when she opened her eyes and saw him there, she had been thrilled. It just would not do.
"I'll go speak to the doctors." His voice was rough and abrupt and yes, he really should leave. He was just coming back from a long and extended trip. He had things to do, the first of it being to take a much-needed shower and grab something to eat.
But it was as if his feet were rooted to the spot. His mind was shouting for him to go about his business and leave her alone, but his body was playing a different song altogether. To his absolute horror, he found that he wanted to join her, hold her and assure himself that she was really whole. That she would not be curled up on the floor again, retching her stomach out. He had spent the last three weeks agonizing over it.
"We need to talk as soon as you're well enough."
Her tapered brows lifted. "I'm well enough now."
He shook his head. "I have to be mindful of your blood pressure."
"Are you going to start treating me like fragile glass?" she demanded.
He actually smiled -- his lips curved fully, and his eyes changed, becoming more green than gray and there was a dimple beside his lips. On the left. The transformation to his face was so profound, it had her staring, her breath strangling inside her throat. Tearing her eyes from his, she stared at the plain cotton sheets as if they were the most fascinating material she had ever seen and prayed that he would not discover how hard her heart was pounding.
"No," he responded to the question thrown at him and found that he wanted to just spend the time with her. He was remindedthat she was the only woman who had ever challenged him intellectually as well as emotionally and that was dangerous. It wiped the smile off his face. "I'll be in touch."
His abrupt change of voice had her lifting her head. Her heart sank at the expressionless look on his face.
"Okay." She had no idea that her voice sounded small and forlorn and that tears were burning the back of her eyes. She felt it, but thought he would not notice. He was beginning to discover that nothing about her escaped him.
It had him springing forward to sit on the bed. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Don't lie to me dammit."
His tone had her lifting her chin and staring at him haughtily. "Don't shout at me."
Swearing beneath his breath, he clamped determined fingers on her chin and ignored her effort to pull away as he studied her face. "Are you in pain?"
Sensing that he was not going to let it slide, she decided to be honest. "Hormones," she told him huskily. "And I'm just beginning to realize how ill I was. It scared me."
Her admission had his heart turning over inside his chest and melting away everything else.
"So was I."
She stared at him in surprise, and he moved his shoulders restlessly. Her lips were slightly parted and without any sort of artifice. Her tight curls were mussed and there was absolutely no reason he should find her attractive and sensual. But he did. At this moment, with her face bare of all makeup, cheeks creasedfrom the pillows, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Lust for her was making him weak. His heart pounded and his skin turned hot.
Shock filled him to the bone and had him dropping his hand and easing back. Slowly and with meticulous movements, he rose and shoved his hands into his pockets. He wanted to touch her -- and he wanted to taste and devour. The violence of those emotions had him reeling. Stepping back, he gave her one last look before turning and leaving the room.
For his safety and hers.
Yasmine stared after him and took several shaky breaths. For one wild moment, she thought he was going to kiss her, and she had wanted him to. Her nipples were now rigid outlines against her nightie.
Hormones, she decided frantically. It was just that and she could not help it, could she? It came with the territory. Sliding down on the pillows, she pulled the sheets up to her neck and closed her eyes, telling herself she was happy he left.
