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"No sooner said than done." He moved, his arm stretching. "Josito, take us by that new
icecream place."
"Si, senor. Is the senorita okay?"
"I reckon," he growled.
"I really am," she murmured weakly. "Or I will be when I get my breath back. I just
overdid it a little. I haven't jogged in a while, you know," she said, eager to convince him that it
was nothing serious. John, being John, would think nothing of walking into any doctor's
office he happened to come to and carrying her straight into an examination room. He had
the arrogance of high position and great wealth, and he used it when he needed to.
"You're not going to do anything silly, are you?" she asked, thinking aloud. She eased
her head back on his broad shoulder, staring uneasily up at his hard, lined face. "John, I'll be
okay. I really will."
The lines didn't smooth out. His glittering silver eyes ran over her like loving hands
searching for broken bones. "You scare me sometimes," he said enigmatically. His voice was
husky, concerned.
She smiled. "I'm not trying to shoot the rapids, am I?" she laughed. "Or hang glide..."
"My God, shut up," he sighed roughly, leaning back against the seat and drawing her with
him. "If you get sick just running, imagine how you'd feel soaring down some damned
mountain? I haven't forgotten the day you decided to try parachuting," he added with a black
glare.
She shifted uncomfortably and settled closer against his warm body. "I didn't put the tree
in the way," she reminded him.
"It took me the better part of an hour to cut you loose," he grumbled. "After I spend a
damned hour scouring the woods looking for you. You're lucky it took me that long."
She made a face at him. "Then you must have been in a nasty temper. You bawled me out as
it was!"
"And it served you right, you little daredevil," he said unsympathetically. "Madeline,
don't you even think about pulling anything that stupid now," he added in a challenging tone,
his jaw set.
Her heart jumped. She tried to breathe normally while she stared into his hard eyes. Did he
know more about her condition than he was letting on? She tried to recall some of the strange
remarks he'd made to her lately.
"Not until you get over this damned virus," he added in a minute, and she relaxed
unconsciously.
"They do... hang on," she murmured.
"I wish you'd see my doctor," he said. "I'm not sure I trust the one you went to."
"He was your doctor!"
"The company doctor," he agreed, "not my personal physician." He stared at her
contemplatively. "Suppose I have them set up an appointment for you?"
"Oh, no, that won't be necessary," she said quickly. "I'll be just fine. See, I'm not even
nauseated anymore," she assured him as she tried to sit up.
"Just stay where you are," he shot back, holding her. His eyes were suddenly level with
her own, and she could feel his warm, smoky breath. "It's not that big a car. Suppose we had
to pick up a stranded motorist or something where would he sit if you moved and started
taking up more space?"
She tried to resist a smile. "He? It might be a gorgeous buxom blonde, and then what
would you do?"
He considered that, and the mustache twitched.
"I guess she'd have to sit on Josito's lap," he laughed softly.
She linked her hands around his neck. "Are you insinuating that I'm fat, Mr. Durango?"
she murmured coyly.
He chuckled down at her. "Oh, no. Not fat." His hands found her thickening waist and
pressed very gently, moving down to her hips and back up again, under the jogging shirt onto the
bare skin of her back. "Not fat at all, Miss Vigny," he murmured, rubbing his nose
provocatively against hers, the mustache almost touching her lips. "Just deliciously
voluptuous."
"John, you promised," she reminded him as her pulse pounded wildly.
He grimaced, his hands stilting on her shoulder blades. "I guess I did," he admitted reluc-
tantly. He brushed his mouth against her nose and then released her, easing her down to a
sitting position beside him. "Feel better?"
"Yes and no," she murmured provocatively.
"You'd better stop right there, Satin, before you get in over your head," he told her. His
eyes ran over her possessively. "God, you're lovely! You were always a knockout, but lately
you're staggering."
She dropped her eyes to his open-necked shirt. "How you do go on, Mister John," she
drawled, blinking her long eyelashes at him.
He smiled at her. "I guess I do." Then his expression became completely serious. "Honey,
why won't you marry me? Won't you even think about it?"
She gazed up into his eyes and nodded slowly. "I I'll think about it. But no more pressure
tactics. Please. I have to make up my own mind about this. And I need a little time."
"Whatever you say, Satin," he murmured, drawing her close. "Whatever you say."
If only it had been that easy, she sighed, staring around her at the forest of roses. The
scent was overpowering, and despite John's promise to stop pressuring her, they kept on
coming every day.
She knew he thought he was giving her the time she'd asked for, so she made no protest.
She couldn't expect him to change his ways overnight. But when she discovered that he was
turning up in all the places she frequented, she put her foot down.
"You're following me," she accused late the next week when she "accidentally" bumped
into him at a liquor store in one of the malls.
He drew her aside, away from the man behind the counter and his three customers, into an
aisle stocked with wines. "What are you doing here?" he asked her, his voice lowered. "You
shouldn't be drinking. I thought the virus gave you nausea?"
God alone knew of a virus that could last for weeks, but apparently John wasn't even
suspicious about it, thank goodness.
"I'm not buying something to drink," she whispered. "I am getting a small bottle of rum
with which to make a rum cake. I know how you like rum cakes, and they don't taste the same
with artificial flavor."
He frowned thoughtfully down at her. "Well, I suppose most of the alcohol does
evaporate-but get some coconut rum," he added. "If you use half that and half dark rum,
you get an unforgettable cake."
She gasped. "How ever did you learn that?" she asked in her slowest drawl. "You don't
know how to cook!"
"Josito told me," he said.
"Well, I won't argue with Josito," she said. "Coconut rum it is. Now why are you
following me? You were at the grocery store the grocery store, for Pete's sake! and then
yesterday you
were at the pharmacy. Today you're here____
John, I'm better, honestly I am."
"I know that," he grumbled. "You even look better. But those damned things hang on.
You might feel dizzy again, and who'd look after you?" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]