Сандра Браун - Adam's Fall

"Nothing. It's simply that I didn't know anybody really named their kid Lucretia."

"I didn't know anybody really named their kid Lilah."

She had the grace to laugh. "You've got a point. Good thing it doesn't have a De in front of it."

He considered her face for a moment, especially her mouth. "I don't know. That might have suited you even better."

Heat washed through her, but she attributed it to getting too much sun out by the pool. Unlike Elizabeth, she had never blushed in her life. "Is your Lucretia related to Lucrezia Borgia?"

"No, but I think you are. Dammit, stop that." The words rushed out, tumbling over each other.

She was trying to bend his knee at a right angle and the limb was resisting the movement. She applied more pressure. He gnashed his teeth and made a hissing sound. "Does that hurt?"

"Hell, yes, it — " His gaze sprang to hers. "Is that good?"

"Yes, numskull. Let's work together to try to bend it. The day will come when you'll try to bend it and I'll work against you. That's when you'll really hate me."

"Make me walk, Lilah, and I'll love you."

For a moment their eyes locked. Lilah was the first to glance away. She made a joke out of it. "They all say that. How soon they forget when they're well."

She made several more attempts at bending both his knees. It cost them energy and sweat. Still, she didn't let up. Not until she and Pete had transferred him to the tilt table and he had stood upright on it for almost half an hour.

"You've been goldbricking, haven't you, Cavanaugh?"

He smiled, looking extremely proud of himself. "I was up to half an hour twice a day before I left the hospital."

"Then it was really stupid of you to leave."

"It didn't seem like much, standing against a table that was actually doing the standing for me."

"But it is much. Since you're so adept at it, I think we can move on to bigger and better things."

When he was stretched out full on his bed again, he drew in a breath of profound relief. "I'm always afraid I'm going to tip out of that thing. I'm glad its over."

"Hardy over, Cavanaugh. Take five. Then we really go to work."

She crossed to the door and pulled it open with a flourish. Using the same theatrics, she disappeared for a second. When she returned, she was riding in a wheelchair.

"Beep beep." She made several trips around the room before bringing the wheelchair to a stop at his bedside. Smiling up at him, she used a corny twang to say, "It comes loaded with options. Wire wheels, custom upholstery, power steering. Low mileage too. Yessiree, you'd do well to put your money into this baby." Her audience wasn't amused. In fact, Adam's deep frown expressed intense dislike. "Would you rather see another model?"

"Get that damn thing out of my sight."

"What? I thought you'd be excited."

"I don't care what you thought. I won't humiliate myself by struggling to get out of bed, only to wind up in a chair I don't want to be in. The doctor says I'm making progress from here. That's good enough for me."

"Oh, I doubt that." She leapt from the chair and bore down on him. "Are you reconciled to spending the rest of your life in bed?"

"If necessary."

She stubbornly shook her head. "Well, you might be ready to give up, but I'm not."

"What business is it of yours?"

"You're my patient."

"So?"

"So, until you can fight me off, you're at my mercy."

"What do you mean?"

Rather than answer him, she marched to the door and flung it open. "Pete! Get up here," she hollered in a most unladylike fashion. In a matter of seconds his tiny shoes were making slapping sounds on the stairs.

"Yes, Rirah?"

"Help me get Mr Cavanaugh into the wheelchair. Then bring that van around to the front door."

"We go?"

"That's right. We go. And so does he." She hitched her head backward to indicate Adam.

His face was stony, his jaw indomitable. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Yeah, yeah, you've come here to die the way ancient Indians and elephants go into the mountains to await death. You'd like to lie here in your own self-pity and let those perfectly beautiful muscles in your legs shrivel." She jabbed him in the chest. "But I'm not going to let you."

"You can't force me to do anything I don't want to do."

"You're right, I can't. But before you make up your mind to quit, I want to show you something."

"I don't know what you plan to do, but you'll never pull it off."

"Oh, no?" She flashed him a dazzling smile that soon turned brittle and hard. "Watch me." She approached the bed. "Okay, Pete. I'll get his top. You take his feet."

Stepping behind Adam, she leaned him forward from the waist. Sliding her arms beneath his, she spanned his torso and locked her hands together in front of his chest.

He fought viciously, flailing his arms. "Save your strength, Cavanaugh. I've handled men who outweigh you by a hundred pounds."

"Let me go, you bitch." He tried to pry her fingers apart, but she squeezed them into fists.

"If you don't calm down, I'll restrain you," she warned. "I'll tie your arms down. Ready, Pete?"

"Damn you, no!" Adam roared as she hoisted his body over the edge of the bed and lowered him into the wheelchair. Pete, not wanting to be involved but realizing the necessity of it, followed Lilah's directions and placed Adam's feet on the footplates.

Adam immediately curled his fingers around the arm-rests of the chair and levered himself up. Lilah knew that trick. Before he succeeded in launching himself up and out, she stepped in front of him.

"Don't even try it. If you do, I'll tie you in there, I swear. We're going out for a drive. You either go with dignity or without. It's up to you."

His dark eyes drilled into hers with a hatred that was as palpable as it was normal at this stage in his therapy. Lilah tried her best to ignore and not reciprocate it. But at the moment she felt like slapping him. "Pete, go get the van."

He scuttled out thankfully. Lilah stepped behind the wheelchair, released the brake, and pushed it forward. They had no difficulty getting to the elevator, which she had been delighted to discover earlier in the day. But because of Adam's height and weight, she had trouble lifting the wheels of the chair over the door facings. They reached the front of the house just as Pete was bringing the specially equipped van around. She rolled the chair into place and locked it down.

"Aren't you even curious as to where we're going?" she asked, looking into Adam's hostile face as the hydraulic lift raised the wheelchair into the van.

What he did was universally accepted as the ultimate show of contempt.

"Guess that answers my question." She secured the wheelchair inside the van and climbed in herself. "For your information, Dr Arno made arrangements for the van. You're free to use it as long as it's necessary. You might want to send him a thank-you note."

Adam merely turned his head aside and stared disinterestedly through the window. Pete, sitting on a cushion because of his short stature, put the van in gear. Lilah gave him directions as he drove, but if Adam guessed where she was taking him, he gave no indication of it.

Only when Pete drove through the gates of the institution did Adam show any emotion or interest. When he read the name on the discreet sign, he whipped his head around and silently demanded an explanation from her.

"That's right, Adam. This is a rehab center for para-and quadriplegics. If you weren't so damned rich and able to afford private care, this is where you might be. Drive slowly, Pete. I want him to see this."

"Look over there," she said, pointing through the windshield. "There are two teams of men playing basketball. I'm sure none of them chose to be in a wheelchair. They'd rather be running up and down the court, but at least they're laughing, having a good time, making the best of a tragic situation.