Diamond Bay by Linda Howard Page B

some answers… wait.
    It was a tribute to her self-possession and concentration that she
was actually able to do some research for the course she would be teaching in
the fall. Like a manuscript, the course would require pacing and plotting to
hold the students' interest, to make them stretch. Yet even though she was deeply involved in
her reading and notes, she was so attuned to him that she heard
the slight rustle made by the bedcovers when he moved, and she knew he was
awake. Checking her watch, she saw that he
had slept for a little over three hours; the stew would be ready, if he was
hungry.
    He was sitting up, yawning and rubbing his bearded face, when she
entered the bedroom. Instantly she felt his attention settle on her like a beam of pure
energy, tingling on her skin.
    "Are you hungry now? You've slept for three hours."
    He considered that, then gave a brief nod. "Yes. I need a
bathroom, a shower and a shave first, though."
    "Sorry, the shower is out while you still have
stitches," she said, hurrying to his side as he threw back the sheet and
eased his feet to the floor, wincing in pain and holding his left thigh. Rachel
put a supporting arm around him until he was steady on his feet. "I'll put
a new blade in my razor for you, though." Sensing that he preferred to get
across the room on his own power, she let her arm drop and watched anxiously as
he took each painful step. He was a loner; he wasn't accustomed to aid and
didn't welcome it, though he had to know that he simply wasn't capable of some
things right now. He would let her help him only when it was necessary. Still,
she felt compelled to ask. "Shall I shave you, or do you think you're
steady enough to do it yourself?''
    He paused at the door to the bathroom and glanced over his
shoulder at her. "I'll do it."
    She nodded and started toward him. "I'll just put the new
blade – "
    "I'll find them," he said quietly, stopping her before
she could reach him. Rachel accepted her dismissal, turning instead toward the
other door.
    It hurt to have him reject her
help after the days he had been totally helpless and
dependent on her for everything, after the nights she had spent leaning over
him, sponging him down to keep him cool, and especially after the mental strain
she had endured. As she set the table she tried to
deal with that hurt, to push it away. After all, she was even more of a
stranger to him than he was to her, and it was only natural that he would try
to regain control of himself as soon as possible. To a man like him, control
would be vital. She had to stop hovering over him like a mother hen.
    It was easy to tell herself that, but when at last she heard the
water cut off in the bathroom she hesitated for only a moment before giving in
to the compulsion to check on him. He was standing in the middle of the bedroom
floor, looking around as if considering his options. A towel was knotted low on
his lean hips, and contrary to logic it made him seem even more naked than when
he had been completely unclothed. Rachel's pulse leaped. Even with the stark
contrast of the white bandages on his leg and shoulder, he still seemed
immensely powerful, and so male that she felt her mouth go dry.
    He had shaved, and the clean line of his jaw made her fingers
twitch with the urge to stroke it – another gesture he wouldn't appreciate.
    "Is there anything I could wear, or do I just go around
naked?" he finally asked, when Rachel made no move either to approach him
or to speak.
    She groaned as she remembered and hit the heel of her palm against
her forehead. "I have something for you to wear. That's where I was this
morning, picking up some things you would need." The shopping bag still
lay where she had dropped it in the living room; she grabbed it and carried it
into the bedroom, where she deposited it on the bed.
    He opened the bag and a curious
expression crossed his face; then he pulled out a lacy
pair of panties and held them up to examine them before Rachel could