Сандра Браун - Adam's Fall

"I'm delighted to hear it. It couldn't happen to a nicer guy."

She stormed toward the door. He grabbed hold of the trapeze above his head and pulled himself into a sitting position. "Where are you going? Get back here. I'm not through with you."

Whirling around, Lilah shouted, "Well, I'm through with you. For the time being anyway. You'd better rest up, buster, because when I come back this afternoon, we're going to get your blistered butt out of that bed. Understand?

"Between now and then, I want you to shave. You smell a damned sight better, but you still look like a street thug. If you're not shaved when I come back, I'll do it myself." Her eyes glinted with blue malevolence. "And the way I feel right now, I don't think you want me anywhere near your throat with a razor."

She slammed the door behind her.

Lilah stared down into the glass-filled dustpan that Pete had tried to hide from her. "He won't own a drinking glass if he keeps this up." Pete emptied the shards of glass in the compactor. "What's he doing now?" He pantomimed sleeping and Lilah nodded. "Good. He'll need that rest this afternoon. Did he shave?"

Pete's face split into a wide grin. "Yes, then…" He slapped his cheeks and chin.

Lilah laughed and said to herself, "Cologne. Vanity is a healthy sign."

As long as Adam was napping, she put on a swimsuit and went out to enjoy the pool. Pete served her lunch on the terrace. She was dozing in a chaise lounge when he trotted out and tapped her on the arm.

"Doctor come."

"Oh, I didn't expect him until later." She pulled on her cover-up and padded into the house, meeting the doctor in the foyer. "Hi, Bo. You're here early, aren't you? Or did I fall asleep?"

"I'm early. I apologize. Right after you called, someone canceled an afternoon appointment, so I decided to take an earlier plane. How is he?"

"Meaner than a junkyard dog," she replied with an abruptness that startled the doctor. "Well, you asked."

"I was referring to his physical condition."

She filled in the gaps, having given him a cursory report over the telephone earlier. "I thought you should know about the spasticity."

"It's definitely a good sign. I'll examine him now."

She accompanied him upstairs and pointed out the room. "I'll wait if you don't mind. The last time I was in Mr Cavanaugh's room, we were swapping death threats."

The doctor laughed, but he was unsure whether or not she was joking. As soon as the door to Adam's bedroom closed behind him, Lilah went to her suite and showered. She was dressed and waiting with a pitcher of chilled pineapple juice when he came back downstairs.

"I think he's made astounding progress," the doctor said enthusiastically, accepting the glass of juice with a nod of thanks. "He was working out on the pulleys when I went in."

"This afternoon I plan to get him on the tilt table. From there we'll go to a chair. The sooner he's mobile, the better his attitude is going to get."

"Despite the improvements, I noticed that he's still belligerent."

"That's an understatement. You might as well know that I've asked to be replaced."

"Oh?"

"I'm not the right therapist for Mr Cavanaugh. Our personalities are on a collision course. They keep getting in the way."

"Sometimes that's exactly the kind of spark the patient needs. Antagonism can act as a stimulant. It prompts them to try harder."

"Yes, well, that's all fine, well, and good, but I refuse to be Mr Cavanaugh's personal punching bag."

"You've been a punching bag for other patients. That goes with the nature of your profession. You knew before you accepted this job that Mr Cavanaugh was likely to be obnoxious and recalcitrant."

"Well, he's certainly living up to my expectations. I can't get anywhere with him."

"On the contrary, from what I've seen, you've been the tonic he needed. Speaking for myself and the other doctors who have been consulted on his case, I hope you stay, Ms. Mason. It would be a shame for you to desert this patient when you're making such tremendous headway."

"Is this the classic guilt trip you're laying on me or what?"

He smiled as he consulted his wristwatch. "I've got to leave you with the thought. The plane is waiting at the airfield to take me back to Oahu." He headed for the door, where Pete was standing by to open it. "Oh, almost forgot," the doctor said, nodding down at a large canvas mailbag that had been propped against the wall, "here is some mail that was sent to the hospital for Mr Cavanaugh."

"All that?" Lilah asked incredulously.

"Your patient is a very popular man, Ms. Mason. I'm certain you're aware of how vital an individual he is. Or was until this tragic accident. He approached everything he did with an exuberance that never flagged. It's no wonder he's somewhat crotchety, is it, now? Well, good-bye. Call me daily and at any time if there's a change."

"Thanks for nothing," she mumbled as she watched his retreating back. She felt every ounce of the guilt he'd put on her as she climbed the stairs, anxious to see for herself all this tremendous headway the doctor had referred to.

Indeed, Adam did look better than he had that morning, and more than a close shave was responsible. "Hi," she said with uncharacteristic timidity.

"Hi."

"I approve." She indicated his shaved face.

"I approve," he said, taking in her more modest attire — jeans and sneakers.

"Well, I thought about putting on my burnoose and veil, but frankly, Cavanaugh, it's hot and uncomfortable and the material itches. So if this'll do…"

He laughed. "You're crazy." Gradually his smile faded until it disappeared altogether. His expression was serious when he asked, "Did it hurt?"

"What?"

"My beard. When I kissed you. Did it hurt?"

The scarlet blossom across her breasts trembled again. But not with indignation. "It scraped a little, I guess. I, uh, I didn't really notice."

"Oh." They stared at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time. Finally he said, "Well, I'm sorry if it did."

"That's okay." Nervously she dried her palms on her jeans and groped for a graceful means of switching subjects. "You did a real snow job on the doctor. He went on and on about how much you'd improved. Did you show off and perform a trick you haven't shown me?"

"Come here." She moved closer to his bed. He peeked back the sheet. She was amused to find him wearing a pair of briefs and wondered how much effort it had taken Pete and him to get them on. "Take a look at that."

"Calvin Klein," she remarked with a bored yawn. "I'm not label conscious."

"Not my underwear. Look."

He pointed down at his femoral muscle. She saw it flex slightly. "Bravo." Smiling down at him and applauding, she noticed that his brow was beaded with sweat. Just that much movement had taxed him, but it was movement and she couldn't have been more pleased. "How about going through some exercises to relax you?"

"Fine."

"Don't agree so readily. We'll move into the hard part soon."

She worked on all his joints, then rolled his hips one way while rolling his shoulders in the opposite direction. He was in that position when she asked, "By the way, who's Lucretia?" His head snapped around. "Well, I certainly struck a nerve there, didn't I?"

"How do you know about Lucretia?"

"I don't. That's why I asked. The doctor brought over a canvas bag full of mail for you. I glanced inside and the first three envelopes I saw had a return address in Switzerland and the name Lucretia von something or other foreign embossed in the corner."

"She's just this woman I was seeing."

"Seeing?"

"You know what I mean," he said crossly.

"Oh, yeah, I know what you mean. Seeing equals sleeping with."

"What of it?"