room. ‘Please do not misunderstand me. I have an important appointment, that is all. I—’
‘Thank you, Mr Dumont.’ She moved out of his hold on trembling legs and offered him a slim hand, her chin high. ‘I hope you won’t be late...’ As the blackness took over again she just heard him growl something in muttered French that sounded incredibly rude as she fell, and then there was nothing, nothing but this soft enveloping darkness that cushioned her buzzing racing senses in the thick blanket of unconsciousness.
She awoke to the sterile neutrality of a small white room that smelt of antiseptic and carbolic, and the realisation that she had tried to surface several times before from the crazy world she had inhabited for the last little while, a world of whirling images and alien voices all of which were dominated by grinding, unrelenting pain in her head. But there was no pain now. She moved her head slightly on the hard pillow and winced as a flash of something hot spiked into her brain. Well, not if she kept still.
There was a buzzer connected to a long wire lying on the white counterpane next to her right hand, and she pressed it carefully before her eyes moved to the small narrow window at the end of the room. The grey light filtering through the louvre blinds suggested it was either dusk or dawn and she realised with a little dart of anxiety that she had no idea which it was. Or where she was. Or—and here the thought became a hard thudding in her chest—who she was. She shut her eyes tightly and prayed for calm. She remembered falling in that hot dusty street and hitting her head on the rough jagged kerb. She remembered being helped into a cool shaded room and she remembered... Her thoughts stopped abruptly. Yes, she remembered Gerard Dumont. And then, as if her mind had conjured him up, the creaking of the door brought her eyes open and there he was, closely followed by a small nurse.
‘Ah, you are awake.’ The smile was as devastating as she recalled and her limbs turned to water. ‘The doctor thought a few hours’ sleep would put you to rights.’
‘Did he?’ She glanced round carefully as she hitched herself up slightly in the bed, finding that if she moved slowly her head still belonged to her. ‘I’m in hospital?’
‘Just an overnight stay,’ he said coolly. ‘And do not start imagining the worst. You have concussion and—’ He stopped abruptly.
‘And?’ But then the nurse took over, popping a thermometer in her mouth which stopped further conversation as she took her blood pressure with bright impersonal efficiency.
He leant back against the wall as the nurse went about her ministrations, arms crossed and big body relaxed as he watched her with tawny narrowed eyes. She found his presence incredibly unsettling, and as her cheeks began to burn so did her temper. Surely he didn’t have the right to be in her room like this? This was a hospital, for goodness’ sake. And she didn’t even know the man. She’d be having a bedbath next to complete the indignities! And he had wanted to be rid of her.
As soon as the thermometer was out of her mouth she spoke carefully, her eyes veiled. ‘I appreciate your help, Mr Dumont, but perhaps it would be better if you left now? I don’t want to inconvenience you further. I’m fine and this is a hospital, when all’s said and done—’
‘A private nursing home actually,’ he corrected coolly, levering himself off the wall, with a nod and a smile to the nurse as she left, and walking lazily over to the side of the bed to survey her with an expressionless face. ‘And as I am paying the bill, I do not foresee a problem.’ He knew exactly how she felt about him, she realised with a little shiver.
‘You’re...?’ She stared aghast at the tall figure watching her so closely. ‘But why? There are hospitals here, aren’t there? I mean—’
‘I know what you mean.’ He smiled, but there was no warmth in the twist of his mouth. ‘And before that active little imagination runs riot, let me assure you that I have no designs on your body.’ There was something almost contemptuous in the gold eyes as they ran over her slender form under the white bedclothes. ‘I prefer my women with a little more meat on their bones and definitely more submissive.’
I bet you do, she thought angrily as her eyes sparked. I just bet you do. And I’m glad you know I don’t like you!
‘Nevertheless you asked for my protection before you passed out at my feet, and that is exactly what I have given you, so please do not agitate yourself.’ The hard gaze was piercing as it roved consideringly over her hot cheeks. ‘Also the hospital here is perhaps not quite what you were used to in—England? Do you come from England?’
‘I think so.’ She stared at him as the anger drained and the enormity of her problem took hold again. ‘I must do. I look English, don’t I?’
‘To the tips of your feet,’ he assured her gravely. ‘And your demeanour is all English.’ Somehow she felt it wasn’t a compliment and again her temper was ignited.
‘What exactly does that mean?’ she asked hotly.
‘Cucumber-cool and twice as self-contained,’ he said smoothly, the dark tanned face slightly amused at her indignation. ‘You do not like this description?’
‘I can live with it,’ she returned shortly, and then felt immediately ashamed of her ingratitude. But then...she didn’t trust him, not one little bit. Why would a complete stranger pay for her to be cared for in a private hospital anyway? There was a catch here, she just knew it. Or was she generally just distrustful of people and men in particular? she asked herself silently. She didn’t know, she just didn’t know. The panic rose hot and fierce.
‘Is there a mirror anywhere?’ she asked weakly, as she glanced up from her musing to find the strange gold eyes intent on her face.
‘You look delightful—’
‘I don’t care what I look like,’ she said sharply before wincing as the pain shot through her head again. ‘I just want to see...to see who I am,’ she finished miserably.
‘Of course.’ Suddenly the hard face softened. ‘I will call the nurse to take you to the bathroom in case you should feel a little unwell again, yes?’ He paused as he walked over to the door and turned again, his eyes searching her white face slowly. ‘You will remember soon, little one, have no fear about that. The police are making enquiries and soon someone will notice you are missing.’
‘But perhaps I’m here by myself?’ she said weakly. ‘Perhaps I’ve rented a place even? I could have.’ She stared at him, her eyes wide and the pupils unnaturally dilated. ‘I could have a child waiting for me, pets, anything. I don’t know, do I?’
‘This is true,’ he said gravely, ‘but if you try to remember too hard I think it will be even more difficult.’
‘That’s all very well for you to say,’ she said tightly. ‘You aren’t me, are you? Not that this would have happened to a man, I suppose,’ she added bitterly.
‘You think the male sex is impervious to being attacked?’ he asked quietly, his eyes narrowing at the look of resentment darkening her face.
‘Not necessarily, no.’ Her eyes met his again. ‘But you sure as hell have things your own way most of the time. Women are just appendages of a man’s ego, that’s all...’ Her voice trailed away as she realised what she had said. What had made her feel like that? She felt something large and dark looming in the background and shut her eyes tightly. She had to remember.
‘I
