Lilah's stomach did a series of flip-flops, but she tried to appear unaffected. "Would looking at them help get you out of bed?"
"It might. Let's give it a try."
He reached for the hem of her T-shirt. She swatted his hand aside. "Sorry, that's not on this morning's agenda."
The men who flirted with Lilah ranged from construction workers on the city streets to surgeons in the corridors of the hospital. No shrinking violet, she could hold her own with any of them. She rarely got flustered. This time she came close.
Male patients often used vulgarity just to get a shocked reaction out of the women on the hospital staff. Like children, they wanted to see how far they could go before being reprimanded.
But Adam didn't look like a child. He didn't sound like a child. He didn't even have the mischievous gleam in his eye that most patients did when trying to goad her. He looked and sounded deadly serious. For a forbidden instant Lilah was tempted to take his hand and draw it to her breast. She had to shake her blond head in order to clear it of the tempting thought.
"Can we get down to business now?" she asked authoritatively.
"Sure."
His grin told her his mind was still on pleasure, not business, but she would soon fix that. "How are your biceps?"
"They're fine. Why?"
"Enjoy them. By this time tomorrow night they'll be sore. You'll have to support yourself on them to lift yourself off the edge of the bed and into the chair."
He nodded brusquely. "Got it."
"Wait a minute, Ace." Laughing, she placed her hands on his shoulders and eased him back against the pillows. "There's a technique to this."
"So show me," he demanded in the imperious tone of voice that had galvanized hotel managers into action and reduced sloppy chambermaids to tears.
It took almost half an hour to get him into the chair. By the end of it they were both exhausted and their breathing was labored. "I'm not sure it's worth the effort." He looked up at her. A lock of hair had fallen over his perspiring brow.
Reflexively Lilah reached toward him and brushed it back into place. "It will be, I promise. This is just the first time. Remember the first time you tried to snow ski? Bet you said, 'I'm not sure it's worth the effort.'"
He nodded with chagrin. "I think I was into the third day of instruction before I stopped saying that. The only sport that was worth the effort the first time I did it was sex. It took me an hour and a half to persuade Aurielle Davenport to go all the way."
"I'm surprised it didn't take you longer than that. She sounds like a real snob who would hold out forever."
"Pretty snobby. But at the time I wasn't thinking of her character."
"She was a sex object for your adolescent lust."
He laughed. "Guilty. But Aurielle wasn't thinking about my character either."
"So when did this momentous occasion occur?"
"During Thanksgiving break my junior year in high school."
"And sex has remained a sport to you ever since?"
He glanced up at her over his shoulder. "Sure. Isn't that what it is to you?"
"Sure." Their gazes locked. It was a long time before Lilah said, "Hey, as long as you're in that thing, want to go for a ride?"
"Okay." He settled back against the seat. When she made no move to propel him forward, he looked up at her expectantly. "Well?"
"If you think I'm going to spend my spare time chauffeuring you around, Mr Cavanaugh, you've got another think coming."
"For a thousand bucks a day you should be willing to sprout wings and fly if I tell you to."
"You checked?"
"Damn right."
She was pleased that he had taken enough interest in his business affairs to call the mainland and check on her fee. But she frowned down at him as though perturbed. "I'm a free agent, not one of your flunkies whose only aim in life is to make the big, bad boss happy." Stubbornly, she folded her arms over her middle.
When it became obvious that she wasn't going to relent, he growled, "How do you run this damn thing?"
"Thought you'd never ask," she said cheerfully.
They practiced on the gallery. Soon he was accustomed to operating the wheelchair by himself. "This isn't so bad," he said with a broad smile. "I've seen guys, you know, who run marathons in wheelchairs, popping wheelies in these things."
"Please, don't try that yet. Give it a day or two at least," she said teasingly. "Thad does wheelies on his motorcycle sometimes. The kids love it. Elizabeth goes berserk."
"Thad has a bike?"
"Goes against type, doesn't it?"
"He's a great guy."
"Yes, he is. I'm so glad he found my sister. Or vice versa."
"They seem to be very happy together."
"They're positively gaga and goo-goo. It gets disgusting sometimes. But that's what Elizabeth wants and needs, someone to love, someone who loves her devotedly. Thad was a perfect choice." She gave Adam a sidelong glance. "Better than you."
"Me?"
"For a while there I thought you were courting my sister. I even encouraged her to fool around a little before making up her mind between the two of you."
"I was courting her professionally."
"I recall an evening when you showed up at her door with a bouquet of roses, looking for all the world like a beau."
"The night you burned the cookies. Elizabeth told me about it later," he said by way of explanation when her mouth dropped open in surprise. "The evening got off to an inauspicious beginning. Remember Thad and I had brought her identical bouquets."
"I remember laughing myself sick over Matt's blurting that out. Wonder what would have happened if Thad hadn't been there, glowering dire threats at you?"
"Between Elizabeth and me, you mean? Nothing. Nothing except what did, that is. We'd still be business partners, but nothing else. Don't get me wrong, Elizabeth is a beautiful woman. I have always enjoyed her company. But I knew what she wanted and needed. I also knew I wasn't it."
"A husband, a father for her kids. That scene isn't for you, huh?"
"No more than it is for you."
"Love and sex are recreational."
"Right," he answered shortly, then gave her a long, steady gaze. "Right?"
"Oh, right. Absolutely. Well, here we are," she said as she took over control of the chair and guided it to a halt beside his bed. "Now, to get you back into bed we simply reverse the procedure."
He groaned loudly. "You mean we gotta go through that again?"
Chapter 6
They still fought like cats and dogs, but their relationship drastically improved.
He still cursed her and accused her of being a heartless bitch who, out of pure meanness, pushed him beyond his threshold of pain and endurance.
She still cursed him and accused him of being a gutless rich kid who, for the first time in his charmed life, was experiencing hardship.
He said she couldn't handle patients worth a damn.
She said he couldn't handle adversity worth a damn.
He said she taunted him unmercifully.
She said he whined incessantly.
And so it went. But things were definitely better.
He came to trust her just a little. He began to listen when she told him that he wasn't trying hard enough and should put more concentration into it. And he listened when she advised that he was trying too hard and needed to rest awhile.
"Didn't I tell you so?" She was standing at the foot of his bed, giving therapy to his ankle.
"I'm still not ready to tap dance."
"But you've got sensation."
"You stuck a straight pin into my big toe!"
"But you've got sensation." She stopped turning his foot and looked up toward the head of his bed, demanding that he agree.