Playing at Love. Jennifer Taylor
taught. Decision made, she turned back to the door and took his arm to help him over to the bed, watching as he sank down on it with a sigh of weariness. He was obviously feeling rotten, and it had probably only been will-power that had kept him going this long—that and a generous measure of sheer bad temper. The very least she could do was try to make him comfortable.
‘Do you want me to help you into bed?’ she offered quietly.
‘No, I damned well don’t! Look, Miss Carter, perhaps you mean well. I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I would appreciate it if you would just leave. Thank you for what you have done, and rest assured that I shall see that you are suitably reimbursed for your time and effort.’
She drew back as though he had struck her, her eyes blazing at the insult. ‘I don’t want reimbursing! You can keep your money, Mr Ungrateful!’
‘And have you making some claim on me at a later date? I don’t think so. I know your type only too well, and I’m not fool enough to leave myself open like that.’ His eyes closed and he sank back against the pillows. ‘Now just get out of here, will you?’
There was a point when even the noisiest conscience should be silenced, and she had reached it. Without another word, Louise turned on her heel and strode towards the door, every nerve tingling with fury. How dared he speak to her like that? Just who did he think he—?
‘And don’t slam the door when you leave!’
She paused at the sound of that harsh, deep voice, her hand resting lightly on the door-handle, her brow puckering into a small frown. How had he guessed what she’d been only vaguely contemplating? She glanced round at where he was lying on the bed, trying hard to recall any previous, if fleeting, feelings of compassion for what he must be suffering, but funnily enough they all seemed to have disappeared.
A rather malicious smile curved her generous mouth and she took a slow, invigorating breath...then slammed the door behind her as hard as she could, listening to the muttered curse that echoed after it with a quite unworthy feeling of satisfaction.
It might have been petty, it was definitely childish, but by heaven it made her feel a whole lot better!
It was the crash that woke her, the sharp, nervestretching sound of glass shattering.
Louise reached for the small travel clock and peered at the illuminated dial for several seconds before her brain could make sense of it. Two a.m. What an unearthly hour to be woken up.
She rolled over and glanced at the twin bed next to hers, not really surprised to see that it was empty. Obviously Carol hadn’t come back yet, and who could blame her? Meeting Simon again like that on the plane had been a heaven-sent opportunity for her, and Louise wasn’t selfish enough to resent her friend making the most of it. It was just that it left her out on a limb.
She sat up, pushing the silky dark curls back from her face as she drew up her knees and rested her forehead against the cool, smooth satin. She’d been so excited about winning this holiday for two in Miami; it had seemed like a dream come true. Two weeks of luxury in a top-class hotel, all expenses paid. She’d be nothing short of ungrateful if she admitted that the hotel wasn’t quite what she would have chosen. It catered mainly for an older, wealthy clientele, retired couples who enjoyed the quiet luxury of the elegant surroundings. Of course it would have been different if Carol had been around more, but Simon had claimed most of her time since they’d arrived, whisking her back to his hotel at the other side of town.
Louise knew only too well how her friend felt about him, having spent many unhappy evenings over the past months with Carol pouring her heart out to her. She was glad they had found each other again, but she did sometimes wish it hadn’t been on this side of the Atlantic!
Still, she hadn’t really been that lonely. Through force of circumstance she’d made friends with a few people who’d been on the same flight, and they’d made it their business to see that she wasn’t left on her own all the time. It was just that she sometimes longed for someone of her own age to talk to. Apart from herself, Carol and the man in the next room there was no one under the age of fifty in the hotel.
At the thought of the man she sat bolt upright, suddenly remembering the noise that had woken her. Had it come from his room? If so, what had happened?
She jumped out of bed and pressed her ear to the connecting wall between the two rooms, but there was no sound from the other side. Was he sleeping, or had the sound she’d heard been him falling as he’d got up, possibly to summon help? Despite his objections, she’d phoned down to the desk before she’d got into bed and requested that a doctor should call to see him, but had he been yet? Even now the man might be lying there, too weak to move.
There was no way she would sleep now with so many unanswered questions whirling inside her head, so she dragged on the silky blue robe that matched her gown and crept from her room to tap on his door, waiting with a mounting impatience for him to answer. She chewed on her lip, weighing the choices of calling Reception again to ask for help or leaving well alone. If he was asleep then he wouldn’t welcome being disturbed, and frankly, she’d borne enough of his foul temper to last a lifetime, but if he was ill ...?
She turned to hurry back to her room and call the desk, then gasped when her foot caught on something sharp lying on the floor. She bent down to see what it was, then realised she might just have found the solution to the dilemma as she picked up the key. It must have fallen from the lock when she’d slammed the door before, and now it was just what she needed. She would take a quick look in his room, check he was all right, then leave.
The room was in darkness, just a faint glow from the window reflecting eerily off the mirrored vanity unit. Holding her breath, Louise crept towards the bed, neatly side-stepping the shattered remains of the Tiffany lamp that had been standing on the bedside table. That breaking must have been the sound that had woken her. Now if she could just check that he was all right, then she could leave.
He was lying on top of the bed, his long legs tangled up in the satin spread. He’d managed to undress down to a pair of dark boxer shorts, his muscular chest bare and gleaming like moulded bronze in the dim light. Louise felt a strange tightness in her chest as she stared down at the man’s near-naked body, and it shocked her. She’d seen naked bodies, both male and female, more times than she could count, so what was different about him?
It was purely out of a desire to answer that question that she allowed her eyes to travel down from the wide shoulders and over that perfectly sculpted torso, then carry on across the slimness of his hips, the muscular hardness of his thighs and down the length of his legs to his large, well-shaped feet. It was purely a thirst for knowledge, not any desire simply to enjoy this embodiment of masculine perfection. There was no need for her to feel guilty when she looked up and saw that his eyes were open and he was watching her, but she did!
‘What are you doing here?’ His voice was hoarse, so low that she had to bend closer to hear him, and she found herself answering just as quietly.
‘I heard a crash. I thought you might need help.’
‘I knocked the lamp over.’ He glanced sideways, his eyes faintly glazed as they turned back to her. ‘I’m thirsty.’
He sounded so different now, his voice rasping softly, sensuously, as he uttered the plaintive statement. Louise felt something warm and almost tender flow through her. She smiled down at him, her eyes softening as she studied his flushed face, the beads of perspiration on his forehead and scattered among the dark hairs that covered his chest. ‘No wonder. You’re still running a temperature. Lie still and I’ll get you something to drink.’
She hurried over to the small built-in fridge and sorted quickly through the contents until she found a bottle of mineral water. She poured some into a glass and carried it back to him, slipping an arm behind his shoulders to help him up so that he could drink. He took a few thirsty swallows before she took the glass away and set it down on the bedside table. ‘That’s enough for now. You don’t want to make yourself sick.’
He