* * *
"Alex, it's a little scratch."
He helped her from the car and over to the low stone wall bordering the outdoor restaurant. "Sit."
She cradled her left wrist in her right hand, moving it only when he placed the first-aid kit in her lap. "It stopped bleeding ten minutes ago. See?" She held up her wrist. Several people in the restaurant waiting line craned to look, but Alex didn't. "I know your wrist has stopped bleeding." He knelt on the flagstones in front of her." But your leg's just getting started."
"My leg? I didn't know—" Before she could stop him, he'd ripped her slacks from ankle to knee. "Good gracious! What are you doing? Alex, everyone is looking."
He picked her up from the overlook wall and carried her to the far corner. "Unless you want to struggle in the ladies' room with your one good hand, or drop your slacks behind those bushes, this is the only way to get a good look at the damage." Lifting the torn cloth, he let out a low whistle. "I see you've got Skinned Knee One-oh-one down pat."
Holding her wrist away from her lap, Sandy leaned over to have a look. She was nose to nose with him. "It doesn't hurt... much. Really."
"It will when I start picking out the gravel." By the way her eyes widened, he knew she was lying about how much it hurt. She was in pain, and he had the overwhelming need to stop it. True, the knee injury wasn't serious, but he'd done something quite similar to himself, and it had stung like hell. He closed his hand over her good knee.
"Wait here. I'll get something to clean this with."
While he was gone, she carefully inspected the knee again. A little antiseptic and a four-by-four bandage would take care of it. The injured wrist was something else. Her gaze dropped to her throbbing joint. She hated to think what damage she'd done to it. With a loud sign she turned to the view behind her. The Gulf of Corinth was a beautiful soothing blue, but she wished she could look at it without wincing. Her trip had only just begun, and difficulties were piling up at an alarming rate. A messy knee, a possibly sprained wrist, and... Alex. Even the calmest, quietest moments spent with him seemed to resonate with tension. He'd touched just about every emotion she was capable of, and a few she hadn't known about. And that kiss. She'd held back from active participation, but he'd taken that as a challenge. Then, just as she'd begun to get into the action, he'd pulled away and resumed treating her like a child. The man was simply infuriating.
Alex plunked a plastic liter bottle of water on the stone surface next to her. "Sandy?"
With lips pressed firmly together, she tore her gaze from the gulf. If he wanted another argument, she'd be pleased to participate.
"Sandy, I'm sorry this happened. I should have warned you—"
The words weren't what set her off. His tone was calming and patronizing, and if he didn't stop treating her like a four-year-old, she'd scream.
"Let me assure you, this is the result of my own carelessness, not yours, Alex."
While she was speaking, he'd removed her shoe and sock. "Carelessness," he repeated.
"That's right. My carelessness."
He picked up the water bottle and twisted the top until it opened with a crack. "Your honesty is refreshing. It's also enlightening, if you'd only listen to yourself." Lifting her injured wrist, he poured water over it.
"What do you mean?"
Slipping his hand beneath her injured knee, he bypassed her question with a firm command. "Hold still. This one's going to hurt."
He poured half a bottle of water over her knee. "Those stones are washing right out." Making a satisfied clicking sound from one side of his mouth, he smiled up at her. She didn't see it. Her eyes were closed, her posture rigid, and she was sucking in air through clenched teeth.
His tone changed. "Sandy, I'm sorry I'm hurting you. That's all I seem capable of doing to you."
Opening her eyes, she took the bottle from him and placed it beside her. "You didn't do anything to me. I told you, it was my own carelessness."
He took a spray can of antiseptic and a package of bandages from the first-aid kit. "And that only proves you can't travel alone."
"But I am traveling alone."
"Not any longer." He gave the can of antiseptic a quick shake, then liberally sprayed her knee. Reaching for her wrist, he gently positioned it away from her lap and sprayed that too. "There's no way you can continue your vacation now."
She'd just about gotten the courage to test the edges of her injury with one fingertip when she jerked up her head. "Alex, I'm not going back. Not yet, anyway."
Blowing on her knee, he quickly taped a bandage over the cut. "How do you think you're going to manage? That's a superficial cut on your knee, but look at the wrist. How many suitcases do you have?"
"Three."
"Three? Plus your backpack and purse? And who'll be carrying all this?"
"Well, I'll, I'll... I'll tip the cabdrivers well. And the bellboys."
He shook his head. "You're planning on heading out to the islands. Cabdrivers won't take your bags up the gangplank and onto the ferry, and once you're on the islands, you'll have to get yourself to your hotel."
"Alex, I can manage this," she insisted. Her jolly tone didn't appear to move him. She looked around, then spotted the half liter of water. "See?" Grasping the bottle with her injured wrist, she managed to lift it several inches before dropping it with a startled cry.
The plastic bottle hit the stones just as pain gathered in her stomach like a frozen bowling ball. Her forehead and upper lip broke into a sweat as she doubled over. Alex was beside her in a flash, holding her head against his chest while she gasped for breath. When her breathing slowed, he lifted the wrist for closer inspection, then looked up with an accusing expression.
"Just what did you think you were doing?"
"I didn't know—Ouch! Stop touching it."
Alex stuffed the second bandage into the first-aid kit, clicked it shut, and stood up. "Let's go."
"I'm not very hungry. Why don't you get in line?"
"Forget lunch. We have to go."
She nodded slowly, surprised at his sudden change in attitude. Then she remembered where he had to be today. "The rug factory. Right, I didn't want you to be late for your inspection."
"The rug factory is last on my list, if it's there at all now." He stuffed her sock in his pocket and slipped her shoe on her foot.
"Wait a minute. Wait just a minute." If he thought he was getting her on a plane to Atlanta... "Forget it, Alex. I don't care how many times you whack yourself in the forehead, you're not taking me to the airport. I meant it when I said I'm not going back to Atlanta just yet. You can't make me go."
"Much as I think you should go, I know I can't make you. Sandy, I'm taking you to a doctor."
"A doctor?" Her wrist was positively throbbing with pain now. She gave in with a weak smile. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt."
An hour later she watched as Alex listened attentively to the doctor at the local clinic. The conversation was almost inaudible from across the room, but since she didn't understand Greek, it didn't matter.
Alex had already translated the diagnosis. Sprained wrist. As the minutes ticked by, her heart sank lower. And lower still. As much as she hated admitting it, Alex was right. There was no way she could continue her trip alone. Whether it was because of the pain or the decision she'd been forced to make, she felt tears welling up in her eyes. This wasn't going to be the end of her life, but then it wasn't going to be the new beginning she'd planned either. She smacked one fat tear from her jaw. Damn, why did it have to be now?
Alex was scratching his head and nodding. How many instructions, she wondered, came with a sprained wrist? The naughty schoolboy had vanished, and in his place was a concerned and determined man. A gentle and tender man who cared enough to look away when he saw that tear slide down her face.
The doctor walked over to her and patted her shoulder. After saying something in Greek, he smiled, then left them alone in the stark white room.
Alex
looked as if he'd resigned himself to slow torture as he turned to face her. "That settles it, Sandy. The doctor and I agree. Your plans have definitely been changed."
She tried smiling, but the brave attempt was a lousy charade. At least her tears had disappeared. "I think I knew that before we got here."
Alex smiled then for the first time. She had set aside her feistiness, for the time being at least, and was facing up to what she conceded to be the inevitable.
"Maybe we could stop at the travel agent across the street and change my ticket." She swallowed back more tears. "That way we could pick up my things at the hotel in Athens, and you could drop me at the airport. There are plenty of flights—"
"Hold on there. I said your plans have been changed, but I didn't say to what."
"What are you talking about?"
"According to the doctor, if you keep the splint on and don't lift any more bottled water, in about two or three weeks you should have full use of it. The choice is yours. You can go back to Atlanta and sit around Peachtree Street like Miss Melanie, or you can do what Scarlett would have done."
She smiled in spite of her confusion. "What's that?"
"You can come with me to my place on Zephyros. I've already planned to stay a few weeks anyway. It will give you plenty of time to recuperate."
"I couldn't. I absolutely could not impose on you a minute more."
He couldn't believe he was attempting to convince a woman to come to Zephyros. "I'm not going to kidnap you, but think about this before you answer. It's your choice. Back to Atlanta and all that perfection, or on to Zephyros," he said, before leaning on the examination table, "with the real Alex Stoner What'll it be?"
She nibbled the inside of her lip as she looked at the plastic splint encasing her wrist. She could handle one day with Alex. But three weeks with this man who stimulated her on every level imaginable? His nearness was as much of a challenge as his words were. "Are you sure I won't be imposing?"
"Only if you can't make up your mind."
Three weeks? Three unpredictable weeks when anything could happen? Wasn't that what she'd come for? Wasn't that what her new life was supposed to be about? She smiled. "Then, the real Alex Stoner, if you please."
He nodded once and carefully helped her down from the table.
"Alex?"
"Changed your mind?"
"No. I just wondered what the doctor said to me before he left the room."
"He said, 'Welcome to Greece.'"
Taste of Love: A Romance Sampler Page 29
