Сандра Браун - Adam's Fall

She laughed gustily. "Well, if I am," she said, dropping an eyelid, "we're guilty of a grievous sin." He didn't even crack a smile. "Not funny?"

"Not funny."

"What's with you, sad sack? Need some stewed prunes?"

"You come near me with stewed prunes and I'll — "

"What? Beat me with a stick?"

"Will you just be quiet and do your job?"

"What a crosspatch," she muttered. Standing directly in front of him, she raised her arms above her head and stretched, knowing that as she did her T-shirt crept up to give Adam a view of her bare belly above her bikini swim trunks. "I slept marvelously well. Breakfast was yummy. Now I'm ready for a swim. Want to come out with me?"

"No, I'll stay here."

"And let that gorgeous tan of yours fade?" she asked in mock dismay. "I'll set up the mat table on the deck and we'll do your therapy session outside today. How 'bout it?"

"I want to work at the bars again."

"Later today."

"Why not now?"

"Because I said no."

"Because you want to slough off around my swimming pool and work on your own tan."

She thrust out one shapely hip and glared down at him. "I'm going to ignore that, Cavanaugh, even though comments like that make me madder than hell. When are you going to get it through your thick skull that I'm the therapist and you're the patient and until you can fight me down, what I say goes?"

He banged his fists on the armrests of the wheelchair and shouted, "I want out of this damn thing."

"Right," she drawled. "So we're wasting time up here arguing when we could be downstairs working on getting you out of it," she said sweetly. Stepping around him, she disengaged the brake and pushed the chair across the room and through the bedroom door.

When they reached the terrace, she poured him a glass of pineapple juice from an iced pitcher that she had prearranged with Pete to have waiting for them on the table. She kissed Adam fondly on the cheek as she handed it to him. "Maybe this will improve your mood by the time I get back."

Apparently he was too stunned by her seemingly spontaneous kiss to speak. She peeled the T-shirt over her head and dropping it negligently on the deck, strutted to the end of the diving board and executed a perfect dive that barely created a splash. After swimming several vigorous laps, she took the steps out of the shallow end and shook the water from her hair.

"That feels great. I Want to sit in the shallow end?"

"I'll pass."

She shrugged indifferently. "Another time."

Adam's eyes were on her, though she pretended not to notice as she walked toward the bin where a supply of beach towels was always folded and neatly stacked. Water was beading on her skin, just as she had planned for it to. Baby oil worked miracles.

She blotted the shimmery droplets dry with the fluffy towel, then rubbed her hair with it. Keeping her back to him, she reached around and unsnapped her bra. She replaced it with the T-shirt she'd taken off only minutes earlier. The soft cotton molded to her damp skin.

When she faced Adam again, she saw that her ruse had worked. He was gripping the arms of the wheelchair so hard that his knuckles had turned white. He seemed about to come out of the wheelchair, either by a spring action device beneath the seat or by his own propulsion. His eyes were dark, smoldering with internal combustion. And he was hard. His nylon gym shorts couldn't conceal his arousal.

"I see Pete has set up your mat table." She gestured toward it. "Can you get on it by yourself?"

He wheeled his chair up to the table. Supporting himself by placing one hand on the edge of the table and the other on the arm of his wheelchair, he was able to transfer himself. Then he lifted his own legs into position.

"Soon you won't even need me." Leaning closer, Lilah added in a sultry voice, "Not for this anyway."

"I'm ready to do it."

Her eyes dropped significantly to his lap. "So I see."

"Lilah," he warned.

"Okay, okay. You're anxious to get on those bars again. But you can't blame a girl for being impressed with your other … accomplishments."

They went through a routine of stretching and strengthening exercises. She resisted each of his movements, and though he cursed her for her diligence, he was smiling proudly when they finished.

"Better today, right?"

"You'll be able to kick me into the pool tomorrow." She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Bet you'd enjoy that, wouldn't you?"

He laughed with chagrin. "More than that, I'd like to hold you under."

"Under what?"

Secretly pleased, she watched a muscle in his cheek twitch with desire and annoyance. "Under the water."

"Oh." She looked away, as though his answer had disappointed her. "Are you in a hurry to get back to your room?"

"Not especially. Why?"

"It might be nice to lie out here and sunbathe."

"Go ahead. You're off duty now."

"I meant together. Why don't you stay out here with me?"

"What for?"

"For the sun, goose. Some cultures believe that it has healing powers."

"That's superstitious bull."

"Well it certainly can't hurt," she said tartly. "But suit yourself." She spread out one of the beach towels on the deck and lay down on her stomach, but not before whipping off her T-shirt.

"What the hell!" Adam exclaimed. "Don't you have a grain of decency?"

She rolled over. "What are you hyped up about now?"

He made a waving motion down at her exposed breasts. "Pete could come out here."

"I gave Pete the day off."

"You gave my employee the day off?"

"The house is spotless, the laundry's done, I can cook. Well, enough so that we won't starve," she amended. "He wanted to go to his cousin's birthday luau. So I said yes." Before Adam could launch into a litany of protests, she slapped a tube of suntan gel into his hand. "Rub some of this on my back, will ya?"

"I can't reach you from here."

"So get down here where you can." She lay back down and returned her cheek to her stacked hands. Just as she had bargained on, he began lowering himself out of his chair and onto the deck. Weeks ago he had had to use steps in graduated heights to get from the seat of his wheelchair to the floor mats they used for some of his exercises. Now he could do it with the strength of his arms, chest, and back muscles alone. She was careful to hide her proud smile.

"Where do you want it?" he asked grouchily.

"Everywhere." Seconds later she said, "Whoa! Not so hard. And not so fast. Hmm, that's better."

Shortly, his second hand joined the first. They moved over her back with slow, smooth strokes, rubbing in the gel. Occasionally his fingertips grazed the sides of her breasts, and he would pause before resuming the massage. When she sensed that he was about to withdraw, she said, "The backs of my legs, too, please." She mumbled the request sleepily, but she'd never been so wide awake in her entire life. Her nerve endings were singing like a well-rehearsed choir.

He didn't respond to her wish right away, but hesitated for a long time. Lilah's heart nervously knocked against the deck beneath her. She clamped her eyes shut and hoped with all her might that he would do as she wanted him to, as much for his good as hers.

His better judgment gave way to his natural urges. She felt his hands on the backs of her calves. Then on her thighs. Pressing and massaging, working their way up. She had to clamp her teeth over her lower lip to keep from moaning with pleasure as his fingers gently squeezed her flesh.

Far too soon for both of them he pulled away. Lilah rolled over just far enough to allow him a peek of one breast. "Finished?" Eyes riveted to the pert, pink tip of her breast, Adam nodded. "Maybe you should have become a physical therapist," she told him huskily. "You've certainly got the touch."