Сандра Браун - Adam's Fall

"Great work, Ace. You're getting the hang — "

"Oh, my God!"

Lucretia's shriek startled Adam and caused the muscles in his arms to give way. He would have collapsed to the floor had Lilah not been there to break his fall. Taking all his weight upon herself, she backed him up and gradually lowered him into the wheelchair. Then she whirled around to confront Lucretia. "Get out of here! How dare you interrupt us during a session."

"You can't order me around, Miss Mason."

"I damn sure can. Mr Cavanaugh is my responsibility. While we're in this room, his attention has to be solely on me and what we're doing."

"The fact that he's your responsibility can be remedied," Lucretia threatened in a voice that could have chilled the martinis she was so fond of mixing for Adam. "I intend to take up that very subject with his physician. Indeed, another physician is a distinct possibility. It seems to me that what you are doing for Adam at Dr Arno's recommendation is causing more harm than good. He is obviously in pain."

Lilah whirled around to see that her patient was wearing an expression of sheer agony. "Adam?" She dropped to her knees in front of his wheelchair and began massaging his calf muscle. It was contracted into a knot as round and hard as a baseball.

Lucretia moved alongside his chair and blotted his sweating forehead with a monogrammed handkerchief. "Leave him alone now, Miss Mason. Haven't you done enough for one morning?"

"Me? I wasn't the one who came barging in where I wasn't needed or wanted and caused him to break concentration."

It took several minutes, but eventually Adam's muscle returned to its normal state. His contorted facial features relaxed. But Lilah could tell that the fall had caused him as much embarrassment as pain. It had hurt his pride and bruised his ego. She could easily throttle Lucretia for undoing in a matter of seconds what it had taken her an hour to work up to. Adam's confidence was shattered. The next time she suggested using the bars, she would have to start from scratch, convincing him of his ability. Damn the woman!

"Kindly leave us," she said stiffly.

"Your time is up."

Lilah consulted the clock on the nightstand. "Can't you tell time? We've got fifteen more minutes."

"Surely you're not going to make him stand up again."

"No, we'll go through a series of exercises to relax the muscles."

"Then, I'll stay and watch."

"You'll do no such thing. This is between my patient and me. Adam, you don't want her here, do you?"

Lucretia laid her hand on his shoulder. "Don't you think it would be a good idea for me to learn how to do this?"

That infuriated Lilah even more. "We're not talking about pouring tea, Snow White. You don't learn 'to do this' in an afternoon. It takes years of study and hands-on practice to get certification."

"It can't be that difficult," Lucretia said with a soft, derisive laugh. "I should know how you do it, so that I'll be able to give Adam therapy myself once we're married."

Lilah's heart hit the floor. She gaped at Lucretia, then at Adam. "Married?" she wheezed.

"You didn't know?" Lucretia affectionately ran her fingers through Adam's hair. "Adam didn't actually propose to me until yesterday, though he was close to it the last time we were together, which was only days before his accident."

Lilah looked down at him with stark heartache and incredulity. "You asked her to marry you?"

"We're seriously talking about it."

"You actually want to marry her? Why?"

"I beg your pardon," Lucretia said with affront. "Adam — "

"Be quiet, Lucretia," he interrupted sharply. "I want to hear what Lilah has to say." He hadn't taken his eyes off her. They gazed up at her steadily from beneath his brows, but his expression wasn't malevolent. If anything, he seemed amused. At the very least, curious. "Why don't you think I should marry Lucretia? We've been close acquaintances for several years."

"A bit more than that, darling," Lucretia interjected. Adam shot her a warning glance to keep silent.

He turned back to Lilah. "Lucretia is sympathetic to my present condition. However it turns out, she's reconciled to living with me."

"What do you mean by 'however it turns out'?"

"My being sexually dysfunctional."

"Is it really necessary to discuss something so personal with the hired help?" Lucretia asked with irritation.

Adam quelled her with another hard look. "I'll deal with this my own way, Lucretia. If you can't keep quiet, leave the room." She chose to stay, but her red lips drew up into a disapproving pout.

"Lucretia is willing to marry me in spite of my inability to sire children," he calmly told Lilah. "She's kind. Certainly beautiful. A cultured, congenial woman. Why wouldn't any man, but especially one in my situation, be overjoyed that she consented to marry me?"

Lilah hiked her chin up a notch and flung her hair back defiantly. "If you want to make the biggest mistake of your life, it's no skin off my nose."

Again Lucretia opened her mouth to protest, but Adam shot her a look of such dire threat that her perfect white teeth clicked shut.

"Why do you think that marriage to Lucretia would be a big mistake?"

"Remember, you asked for this," Lilah cautioned him.

"I'll remember."

"Okay," Lilah said, taking a deep breath. "She's not acting in your best interest. She's babying you, mollycoddling you, pampering and petting you."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Everything."

"You don't think husbands should be pampered?"

"Not husbands in your condition and certainly not at this stage in your treatment. Once you're back to normal, you can be waited on hand and foot, and I'll give a green light to any woman dumb enough to do that for a man. But right now, you should be driven and bullied and prodded — "

"In other words, she should treat me the same way you do."

"Exactly! What she's doing is fine if you're content to lie around and sip the martinis she brings you and eat your meals from her hand. If that's the quality of life you want, then far be it from me to argue with your decision. If you want to watch your nice hard belly turn to fat and the muscles in your legs shrivel to mush and your arms become flabby from disuse, not to mention your chin and chest, then fine. Go to the altar with her and say, 'I do.'

"But if you want to be Adam Cavanaugh, if you want to walk and jog and ski and climb mountains, which is what you told me you wanted, then you'd better set her straight or ditch her altogether."

"Adam!"

Lilah disregarded Lucretia's exclamation of outrage and drove her point home. "Before you make up your mind, though, consider this. When the ski season rolls around and all her buddies are jetting off to Saint-Moritz, where do you think that'll leave you? Huh? I'll tell you. Alone. Abandoned. Because she'll go to Saint-Moritz. And you'll urge her to go because you'll feel guilty because she's sacrificed so much for you. You'll be left cooped up in some stuffy bedroom with an even stuffier servant, who will despise and deride you for your weakness and take his sweet time in answering the tinkling little bell on your nightstand.

"While your gorgeous wife is out taking on the slopes — and probably a few ski instructors, because by now the newness of her noble gesture will have worn off and she'll be thinking that she made a bad deal — you'll be lying helpless and useless. You'll be torturing yourself, wondering who she's with and what she's doing. You'll be remembering with bitterness the days when you picked up ski bunnies and took them home to snuggle. You'll be lamenting the days when you controlled a globe-spanning corporation and left people breathless in your energetic wake.

"Eventually she'll leave you more frequently to go sailing or grouse shooting or to meet a lover, and then the day will come when it's just not chic to be married to a paraplegic anymore and she'll divorce you and probably take off with a few of your millions, which she'll feel she earned for giving you her time and trouble."