Playing at Love. Jennifer Taylor
built, with powerful shoulders straining against the thin silk of his white shirt and a muscular chest that tapered down to a trim waist. It took all Louise’s strength to hold him up as she wrapped her arm around the back of his waist as he took an unsteady step forwards.
‘Slowly, now. Just take your time,’ she murmured softly, using the very tone she’d used a thousand times before to a thousand different patients, only this time, instead of having a soothing effect, it seemed to have just the opposite.
‘I am taking my time! I’m not in any fit state to do otherwise, am I? Perhaps you could control that irritating tendency you have to offer unnecessary advice, if it isn’t too much to ask.’
Louise stiffened at the unpleasant note in the man’s voice. Her fingers curled into the hard flesh at his waist, digging in deeper as her temper started to rise. ‘I shall be delighted to if you’ll agree to curb that foul temper of yours. Now come along. The sooner this is over with, obviously the happier we shall both be.’
She urged him forwards, closing her eyes to the rasping sound of his breathing, the burning heat of his body pressed against hers. He might be ill, but he wasn’t going to get much sympathy from her, not after such ingratitude!
‘If you could just get your fingers out of my ribs, then maybe I could breathe a bit better. And do you think you could slow down? It may have escaped your notice, but I’m not in any fit state to run the four-minute mile right now.’
He might be feeling ill, but obviously it hadn’t affected his tongue! He could still summon up enough sarcasm to make her want to do something totally unprofessional! Louise glared up at him, her angry gaze tangling with his for no longer than a heartbeat before she looked away, feeling...well, shaken. All he’d done was glare back at her, his dark brows drawn together, his lips set into a thin, uncompromising line of displeasure. So why did she suddenly feel breathless, the blood singing along her veins? She must be more upset by his rudeness than she’d realised.
Annoyance ran through her and she slid out from beneath his arm, watching dispassionately as he made a grab for a nearby chair and hung on grimly. ‘If you prefer to manage by yourself, then carry on. I can think of any number of more interesting ways to pass the evening than spending it helping an ungrateful, carping bore like you.’
His knuckles gleamed white from the effort of holding himself upright, but his eyes were deadly as they swept her angry face with icy contempt. ‘I’m quite sure you can.’ He smiled tightly, his lips drawing back from strong white teeth in an expression that held little sign of amusement ‘Far more interesting and far more lucrative, isn’t that right? But while I hate to curtail your night-time activities, Miss Carter, I am forced to point out that you started this by poking your pretty little nose in in the first place. So may I suggest that you finish it? Look on it as the ideal opportunity to perfect that caring little act of yours.’
What did he mean? What act? And how could her evenings be classified as lucrative? Unless he’d seen her in the hotel’s casino last night. She’d spent no more than ten dollars at the gaming tables, and that more to pass the time than out of any hope of winning. Perhaps he imagined that was how she usually passed her time. Either that or he was rambling from the fever he was running.
It was the thought of the fever that decided her. She caught his arm and draped it across her shoulders again as she started towards the lift. She might not like his attitude, but there was no way she could ignore six years of nursing experience and training. Until she could hand him over into someone else’s care he was her responsibility.
‘Which room are you in?’ She pressed the button to summon the lift, flexing her shoulders as he leant against the wall and closed his eyes as they waited for it to arrive.
‘Seven-thirteen.’
Louise gasped in surprise. ‘Why, that’s next door to me.’
His eyes opened slowly, something glittering in their depths that chilled her to the bone. ‘I know.’
How could he manage to make a simple statement sound like an accusation? And why should he want to? Just what did he have against her, apart from the fact that she’d made the mistake of smiling at him that morning and then offered to help him tonight?
Louise searched his face, but there was nothing there to supply an answer as he closed his eyes again and slumped against the wall. He groaned suddenly, one large hand pressed flat to his stomach, a flush of colour tingeing his angular cheekbones, and she studied him in consternation.
‘Look, I really do think you need a doctor. Let me see if I can find someone to call one out. You don’t know what could be wrong with you.’
He shook his head, running his hand over his forehead to wipe away the beads of perspiration. ‘No doctor. I don’t need one.’
‘Why? Because it might ruin the macho image to admit you’re ill?’ There was a sting to her words, and his eyes opened at once to centre disturbingly on her face.
‘I don’t need a doctor because I know exactly what is wrong with me. It has nothing whatsoever to do with image.’ His eyes travelled the length of her slender body, lingering meaningfully on the simple lines of her cream dress with its delicate white lace collar before lifting back to hers with mockery in their depths. ‘We don’t all put on an act, Miss Carter, as you obviously do.’
Perhaps it was her own fault for starting it, but she didn’t like the way he said that, nor the way he was looking at her! For a moment Louise battled with a desire to tell him exactly what she thought, before swallowing the heated words. It would achieve nothing to start an argument, only prolong this whole unpleasant episode, which was the last thing she wanted.
‘What is wrong with you, then?’ she asked quietly, ignoring the way one thick dark brow winged upwards with amusement when he realised she wasn’t going to retaliate.
‘Squid.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ She stared at him in astonishment.
He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair to push it back from his damp forehead. ‘I ate out tonight at a seafood restaurant. I specifically ordered that there should be no squid in the meal, but...’ He shrugged, then grimaced faintly as he clutched his stomach again. ‘I seem to be allergic to squid.’
‘Yet you still took a chance by opting for that kind of meal? How could you have been so foolhardy? Surely you could taste the squid so why did you eat it?’
‘No, I couldn’t taste it The fish was done in some kind of heavy sauce, and in fact I ended up leaving most of it, but obviously the damage had been done by then. I don’t expect this sort of mistake to be made when I have given specific instructions to guard against it. However, that is immaterial now. I shall deal with the restaurant tomorrow.’ He straightened with obvious effort as the lift arrived. ‘Now if you have quite finished with the lectures as to what I should and shouldn’t eat, is it too much to ask you to help me up to my room?’
A shiver ran through Louise as she took his arm, barely conscious of responding to the order. She wouldn’t like to be in that chef’s shoes tomorrow! Whoever he was, this man would be the wrong man to cross, so pity help the staff at that restaurant when he’d got through ‘dealing’ with them!
Within minutes they were outside his room. Louise steadied him against the wall, then took the key from his hand and unlocked the door, shooting a worried look at him when she felt the heat of his skin. Despite his temperature, she could see shivers racking his body, a sure sign that the allergic reaction had nowhere near run its course. Could she really in all conscience leave him alone with no one to help if he got worse?
She sighed as she opened the door and walked inside to switch on the lamps, casting a golden glow across the thick white carpet and white silken spread that covered the king-sized bed. His room was almost a duplicate of hers—huge, airy, the pale sea-green walls adding just the perfect hint of delicate colour. She would give anything just to say goodnight, go to her own room, and enjoy the quiet luxury but her infuriating conscience wouldn’t allow her to do that