Page 30 of A Treasure Worth Seeking

Erin agreed that she probably should while help was available, and together they managed to get her to the bathroom. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and used the commode. The trip back to the bed seemed an odyssey.

As she gratefully sank back into the pillows, Erin said sleepily, “Melanie, thank you for bringing the ice today. It was just what I wanted.”

“I didn’t bring it. Mr. Barrett did.”

She closed the door behind her, and Erin was left alone in the twilight-tinted room with only her thoughts for company.

* * *

It was amazing what a difference twelve hours could make in her condition. In the morning, she was feeling much stronger. Tentatively she put her feet on the floor beside the bed and stood up. She swayed, and the room spun crazily before finally coming to rest, but she walked to the bathroom under her own power.

She took a sponge bath in the sink and changed into a fresh nightgown. Her hair was matted to her head, but a brisk brushing helped restore it to its usual springy luster. She relieved her dry lips by applying a slightly tinted lip gloss to them. As a last touch, she splashed on a lemony scented cologne. Any heavier fragrance would have played havoc with her queasy stomach, but the cologne made her feel more like a human being. She must be feeling better; vanity was emerging.

She wa

s sitting on the edge of the bed rubbing lotion on her hands when the door opened a crack and Lance peeped in. Her hands stopped in midair, and she stared at him over the space that separated them. The pale peach nightgown she had put on was a soft batiste, but not too sheer. From a lace-trimmed yoke, it buttoned primly down the front.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

“Are you going to live?” he asked, smiling.

She returned the smile. “I think so, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to for a while there.”

“You were very sick.”

She averted her eyes, inundated with embarrassment when she remembered how sick she had been in front of him. “I want to thank you for being so helpful the other night. It couldn’t have been pleasant for you.” Why did you tell the doctor that I was your wife? she longed to ask. She continued to stare down at her bare feet. When he didn’t respond, she raised her eyes to him.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “I wish I could have spared you the suffering.” They looked at each other for a long, tense moment when all the rest of the world seemed to disintegrate, leaving only the two of them free to be totally absorbed in each other. He forced himself to tear his eyes away from the beguiling picture she made and said quickly, “You must be starving. I’ll fix you something, though don’t expect haute cuisine.”

“Don’t go to any trouble. Melanie—”

“Has gone to her parents’ house this morning,” he finished for her. “Family business. Mike is manning the telephone. I’m at your service.” He smiled, but it was a self-conscious smile. “I’ll be right back,” he said before he hurriedly left the room.

Erin climbed into the bed after straightening the covers as well as she could. She fluffed the pillows and lay back against them, once again feeling drained of energy. Her body still had a long way to go until she felt up to playing a set of tennis, she thought tiredly.

She was just about to doze off again when Lance came in with a tray. “The blue plate special this morning features hot cereal, dry toast, and iced tea,” he said with a broad smile.

He smiled so seldom. Perhaps it was a good thing he didn’t. When he did, he was disarming and captivating. A weakness that had nothing to do with her illness permeated Erin’s body. The nightgown over her breasts vibrated with the rapid beating of her heart. She saw Lance’s eyes take note of that stirring cloth as he leaned across her to place the tray on her lap.

“The tea sounds good,” she said nervously. “I couldn’t have stood anything sweet, but I’m thirsty for something cold.”

“Dr. Joshua said you should lay off milk and fruit juice for a few days.”

“I never drink milk anyway.”

“Never?” he asked.

“No, it’s fattening,” she answered, taking a bite out of the corner of a piece of toast.

“Ah!” He looked her over carefully, following the outline of her legs under the blankets. “You’re a real heavyweight all right.” For the first time, she saw a spark of humorous mischief in the depths of his startling blue eyes. He was actually teasing her!

“I might be if I guzzled milk all the time,” she said, laughing, and he joined her. “What is this?” she asked, looking dubiously into the bowl of hot cereal. “It looks like paste.”

“I beg your pardon, madam. That bowl of cream of rice is the specialty of the day. There is not one lump in it.”

“Cream of rice. Agh!” she shivered. “Do you expect me to eat that?”

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