Man of Ice by Diana Palmer Page A

told him the truth about last night. She had a suspicion about why he’d gone out. He’d said it himself. He was only capable with one woman…the one woman he’d scarred too much to ever want sex again. And he couldn’t bear the thought of it. How horribly ironic.
    It did make sense, somehow. She went to the window to look out. The sky was gray and low with dark clouds. It was going to snow. She needed to get out before the roads became impassible, but she couldn’t leave Dawson. What was she going to do? The first thing was to go back to the hospital.
    But Corlie refused to let her. “You need food and rest. You’ve been up all night. Rodge and I will sit with him until you have a little rest.”
    “You don’t have to do that,” she began.
    “Barrie, you know better than that. He’s like our own child, mine and Rodge’s. You eat something and we’ll stay until you get back to be with him tonight.”
    “Okay.”
    Corlie seemed to take it for granted that Barrie was going to stay the night with him. Of course. Everyone still thought they were engaged. She grimaced. Dawson wasn’t going to like that one bit. When he was back to himself he was going to hate her all over again. She was his one and only big mistake. He’d been furious at her when he’d stormed out. He seemed to actually hate her because he was aroused by her.
    But he was subtly different. When she arrived back at the hospital, he watched her come in with eyes that were alert and searching.
    “Feel better?” he asked quietly.
    “That’s my line,” she murmured, smiling at Corlie and Rodge.
    Corlie got up and hugged her warmly. “Honey, you’re freezing,” she chided. “Don’t you have something heavier than that windbreaker to wear?”
    “It doesn’t exactly freeze in Tucson,” Barrie reminded her.
    “Go to Harper’s and buy a coat,” Dawson said. “I’ve got an account there.”
    “I don’t need a coat,” she said on a nervous laugh. “And I won’t be here long enough to use it. Anyway, it’s just a little nip in the air. It’s spring.”
    He didn’t reply. His eyes were watchful, curious. “Corlie, you know what size to buy?”
    “Yes,” Corlie said, grinning.
    “Get her one.”
    “I’ll do it first thing tomorrow.”
    “But…!” Barrie began.
    “Hush, child. He’s right, you’ll freeze in that thing you’re wearing. We’ll be back early in the morning.” She hugged Barrie again.
    “Might as well not argue,” Rodge said with a grin. “I haven’t won an argument with her in thirty-five years. What chance would you have?”
    “Not much,” Barrie sighed.
    They said their goodbyes to Dawson and went out the door, waving.
    Barrie edged toward the chair beside the bed, feeling vulnerable now that they were alone. He was much too alert to suit her.
    He watched her sit down, his eyes following her. He caught her gaze and held it relentlessly until she flushed and looked away.
    “I’ve remembered,” he said.
    She bit her lower lip. “Have you?”
    “And apparently you’ve realized why I lost my temper.”
    The flush got worse. She looked at the floor.
    He laughed bitterly. “That’s right, Barrie, try to pretend it didn’t happen. Run some more.” His hand shot out and caught her arm. “Stop that,” he said curtly. “Your lip’s bleeding.”
    She hadn’t even felt the pain. She pulled out a tissue and held it to her lip. It came away red. “It’s a habit,” she faltered.
    He let go of her arm and sank back against the pillows. He looked older. There were new lines in his face, around his eyes. He looked as if he’d never smiled once in his life.
    She clutched the tissue in her hand. “Dawson?”
    His gaze came back to hers, questioning.
    “Why is it that you weren’t…cold…with me?” she asked hesitantly. “I mean, all those other women, like Mrs. Holton…and she’s a knockout.”
    He searched her eyes. “I don’t know why, Barrie,” he replied. “Maybe it’s because I hurt