"Good morn — " The second syllable died on her lips. She barely managed to set the tray on a credenza before rushing across the room toward Adam's bed. "Lord, what is it?"
His face was twisted with agony. His lips were thin and white and stretched open to reveal clenched teeth. "Left thigh. Cramp," he gasped.
Lilah flung back the sheet and gave his left thigh a cursory examination. The instant she touched the contracted muscle she said, "Spasticity." Her capable hands massaged the leg muscle. Adam cried out twice.
"Do you want a pain pill?"
"No. I hate not being in control of my own mind."
"Don't be proud. If you need a pain pill — "
"No pills," he shouted.
"Fine," she shouted right back. Thankfully her touch was kinder than her tone of voice. She continued to massage his thigh. Finally the muscle began to relax and with it, his grimace of pain.
"Thanks," he said, opening his eyes slowly. "Damn. That was… What are you grinning at?"
"Are you dense? That's a good sign, you idiot. The muscles aren't flaccid anymore."
He stared up at her for a moment. When the reason for her smile registered with him, he reciprocated with a wide one of his own. "What does the spasticity mean?"
"It probably means that the swelling has gone down and relieved the pressure around the vertebrae affecting those muscles. Can you feel this?" She pinched his bare thigh.
He gave her a baleful look. "It's a good thing for you that all I feel is pressure, no pain."
"But you can feel the pressure?" He nodded. "How about here?" She squeezed the muscle above his knee.
"No."
"Here?" She ran her finger up the sole of his foot.
"Nothing."
"Don't look discouraged. The sensation will start in your thighs and work down. How about your right thigh?" She scratched it lightly with her fingernails. He said nothing. When she raised inquisitive eyes toward him, he was staring at the spot where her hand was resting high on his thigh.
"Pressure," he said gruffly, reaching for the sheet and pulling it up. Lilah turned away quickly.
"Great. That's terrific news. Although it means that you'll be quite uncomfortable when those muscles contract. We'll be spending more time together, working harder and more often." She went on with brisk efficiency. "I'll have to notify Arno. He'll want to examine you. I'll call him while you're eating." She bridged his lap with the bed tray and left the room before he could say anything more.
When she got to her bedroom, which Pete had already straightened in her brief absence, she reached for the telephone on the nightstand and dialed a number. But it wasn't Dr Arno in Honolulu who answered.
"Hi, Thad, it's Lilah."
"Hi! How are you? Trip go okay?"
"Don't you dare pull this buddy-buddy act with me. I don't feel like being civil. I'm furious with you."
"Furious? With me?"
"You were no doubt in on the conspiracy."
"What conspiracy is that, Lilah?"
"You know damn well what conspiracy. The one you and my big sister cooked up to have me stranded on an island with this generation's equivalent to Conrad Hilton."
"Hardly stranded. And hardly just 'an island.' I hear Maui's beautiful. I've always wanted to go there. Maybe next summer we can take the kids — "
"Thad!" After counting to ten Lilah said tensely, "I've had second thoughts. I don't want this lousy job. He's horrible. Awful. Worse than I expected. He's been verbally and physically abusive."
"Physically? How can a paralyzed man be physically abusive?"
He kissed me till my ears rang. She didn't say that, of course. She stammered around an answer and finally came up with, "He threw a drinking glass at me."
"And hit you with it?! Elizabeth, come here. It's Lilah. Adam threw a glass at her."
Lilah heard shuffling sounds as the receiver was transferred to her sister's hand. She also heard Matt's wailing in the background, "I wanna talk to Aunt Lilah." He was shushed by both parents. Finally Elizabeth's worried voice reached her. "Adam threw a glass at you? That doesn't sound at all like something he would do."
Lilah cursed beneath her breath, then parroted her sister s sentence in a mocking voice. "I told you, Lizzie. When something like this happens to a man, his whole personality undergoes a change. At least temporarily. And usually for the worse. I didn't like Cavanaugh to begin with. I sure don't like him now."
"If he threw a glass, you must have provoked him. What did you do?"
"Thanks a lot!"
"Well, I know better than anybody how outrageous you can be, Lilah."
"I've been strictly professional. I haven't done one outrageous thing since I got here." She thought about the salad bar earrings and the theatrical way she'd unfurled the bedsheet, but decided that, all things considered, what she told her sister was basically the truth.
"The man is impossible. This situation is impossible. I agreed to work with Cavanaugh in a hospital, with other staff around to help buffer his angst. Staying here alone with him is something else entirely. You coerced me into it. And I want to come home. Today. Right now."
"What's she saying?" Lilah heard Thad ask.
"That she wants to come home."
"I was afraid of this. They're like fire and water. They just don't mix, Elizabeth."
"But she's the best therapist we know. And Adam's the best friend we've got. Here, you talk to her. She just gets mad at me and thinks I'm trying to boss her."
Lilah rolled her eyes heavenward and impatiently tapped her foot on the floor. As soon as she knew Thad had the receiver back she said scathingly, "I'm not a child, homesick and wanting to come back from camp, Thad. Elizabeth's always been the big sister, but if anybody did the bossing, it was me. But she's right on target about my being mad. Coming to Maui wasn't part of the deal."
"It can't be all bad."
"I didn't say it was all bad. This house could be a sultan's palace. There's a cute, funny little man who is a cross between an angel and a slave. He thinks I'm wonderful and waits on me hand and foot." She sighed. "It's him. Casanova Cavanaugh. Treating a patient in his condition requires stamina and energy and boundless tolerance. And the bottom line is that I just can't tolerate Adam Cavanaugh."
"Put personal considerations aside, Lilah. The man needs you."
"It's not just my personal considerations. He's as dead set against my being here as I am. Believe me. He nearly had a stroke when I showed up yesterday. We simply can't stomach one another and never could."
"Give it a day or two more at least."
"But — "
"Has he shown any improvement?"
Compelled to tell the truth, she gave Thad a rundown of Adam's condition, including the muscle cramp and the improvement it signaled.
"Well, hell, I think that's great news!" he exclaimed. Lilah listened as he repeated it to Elizabeth. "So you've already made progress. Just hang in there. Adam'll come around. He'll get used to you."
But will I get used to him? To touching him? That was at the crux of her dilemma and the reason behind this phone call. Adam hadn't been the only one momentarily captivated by the sight of her very feminine hand juxtaposed to a very masculine part of his body. What that sight had done to her was far more terrifying than any temper tantrum he could throw.
"You can stick it out a few more days, can't you?" Elizabeth wheedled. Thad had passed the telephone receiver back to his wife.
Lilah sighed her surrender. "I guess I can. But start today to find a replacement. Check with the hospital. I'm sure my supervisor can give you a long list of competent therapists. I suggest a man. I think a man would work better with Cavanaugh." What woman, no matter how businesslike, could maintain a professional attitude toward that body?