A Sensual Seduction

Adam Tremayne’s Story

By

Kate Hofman

Adam Tremayne’s Poetry

By Emma Keatley

©Copyright 2007 by

Romance at Heart Publications E-Novels

ISBN 10: 0-9799423-5-7

ISBN 13: 978-0-9799423-5-8

Edited by Karen MacLeod

Cover Art by Jennifer Mueller

Publication by Romance at Heart ©2007
http://rahpubs.com/

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information and storage retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

eBooks are not transferable.

They cannot be sold, shared or given away.

It is an infringement on the copyright of this work and prosecutable under the laws of copyright.

Cover art by Jennifer Mueller

Edited by Karen MacLeod

First published by:

Romance At Heart Publications

http://rahpubs.com

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Romance At Heart Publications, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

Romance At Heart Publications

First Electronic Edition By Romance At Heart Publications: December 2007

This Book contains two volumes:

A Sensual Seduction by Kate Hofman ……… Page 5

Adam Tremayne’s A Sensual Seduction:

Poetry by Emma Keatley ………………………. Page 189

Dedications:

Thank you, Rose, for your willingness to accept my book about a poet, and then include his poetry, not written by a hopelessly prosaic me, but by Emma Keatley! Thanks again.

Many thanks, as always, to my friend Jennifer Mueller, that wonderful writer, for her cover art. You're a Renaissance woman, so talented in so many directions.

Thanks again…

Kate…

To Kate Hofman who liked my work and to my everlasting shock wanted to include it in her book "A Sensual Seduction," and sent some to her publisher Rose Brungard who................in turn, has taken a chance on me and is including my Poetry & Odes in Kate's book..........

Thank you ladies, so very much.

Emma…

A SENSUAL SEDUCTION

Adam Tremayne’s Story

By Kate Hofman

Poetry by Emma Keatley

PROLOGUE

The Authors’ party given by Swanage & De Villiers at their Manhattan offices was very well attended, thought Annabel Browne, as she quietly slipped into the grand room. Her Editor waved to her, but she could see he was talking to two authors. Others smiled or waved, and she smiled back.

A waiter offered her a tray with flutes of champagne. Annabel took one with a nod of thanks.

She found a quiet corner by shelves holding books published by Swanage & De Villiers, and amused herself by checking some of the titles. A slim volume of poetry intrigued her, so she lifted it off the shelf. She put down her champagne and began to read, becoming quickly engrossed, reading aloud in a husky whisper:

Feeling the way i do makes me a man amongst men,

i am forever in your web,

though the difference is i am not here to die,

i'm here to live with you and only you.

She looked up at the sound of a deep, slightly husky voice.

“I find it incredible that a beautiful lady can’t find anything better to do than read poetry at a party.” She gazed into a handsome face, with a straight nose and a generous, beautifully sculpted mouth. Dark eyes sparkled under slim, black eyebrows, one of which was raised in amusement. She liked his rangy height, thinking him well over six feet, with a casual elegance that owed very little to his well-cut suit.

She smiled, holding up the slim volume of poetry.

“Actually, this is exceptional. That’s why you found me reading. I had intended merely to glance at it, but with his first few lines the poet had me riveted.”

“I’m sure the poet would be delighted to hear that,” he smiled.

He looked a little more closely at the young woman, and thought how much he liked what he saw. The top of her head only comes to my chin. And she likes – no – she said that she’s riveted by my poetry. A natural blonde, beautiful face, her eyes are an unusual color, long, dark lashes…

He noticed that a waiter, thinking her champagne discarded, took it away.

“Let me get you another?” he asked.

She smiled and shrugged one elegant shoulder, murmuring, “No hurry.”

“Don’t move… I’ll be back.” He disappeared into the throng.

The moment he left, Annabel felt a little bereft. How is it possible that I should feel this way about a man I’ve exchanged half a dozen words with? Ah, but he was special – very special…

Annabel’s rêverie was rudely interrupted by the strident voice of Marissa Driscoll, a woman who worked in the office, and was often the subject of derisive gossip, she recalled. To her dismayed astonishment, she heard Marissa snarl furiously, “Listen, you slut. Stay away from him. He’s my man, and don’t you forget it.” Astonished, Annabel stared at her.

“I think I’ve seen you in the office… Driscoll, yes. I’ve heard you talked about – a lot,” she said, her voice ice-cold. “You will moderate your voice and your invective.”

Enraged, Marissa bit out, “Don’t get on your high horse with me. I know exactly who and what you are – the elusive Miss Annabel Browne, writer of filthy books. You’re so ashamed of them you use the name Anna Blackwell. You stay away from my man. Get out of here before he comes back.”

Frantically, Marissa, several inches taller and a lot heavier than slender Annabel, began to tug at Annabel’s arm and succeeded in pulling her hastily through a side door into a corridor.

“Get out and stay out, you slut, and leave my man alone,” Marissa snarled, giving Annabel a shove. Snorting with rage, her ample bosom heaving, Marissa stood menacingly between Annabel and the door.

Thoroughly upset, Annabel decided not to risk returning to the party. A pity, because that man was really something… Still, if he’s involved with Marissa, notorious for her many amorous adventures, coarsely discussed in public… No. She’d be too crude for him. She just has the hots for him and tries to remove anyone he shows an interest in.

Shrugging dispiritedly, she tried to dismiss the upsetting episode, but found that she couldn’t quite succeed in doing that.

****

The man, the warmth in his voice, in his eyes, everything about him made it impossible for her to put him out of her mind.

Ocean Breeze, Florida

Chapter 1.

Two months after the ill-fated publisher’s party, Luke and Angela MacLean had two friends to lunch – Hank St. George, a twenty-eight-year-old widower whose wife had died tragically a year ago, and Angela’s closest friend, Annabel Browne. Actually, Hank had invited himself, something he did when he could no longer stand his own cooking.

“Luke, I’m really concerned about Adam Tremayne, my neighbor. Isn’t he a sort of cousin-in-law to you and Angela?” Hank paced up and down in the living room of his friends’ condo, his handsome face worried.

“Yes, Hank. Alex Tremayne is my sister Lisa’s husband,” said Angela, coming into the living room with a platter of delicious looking nibbles. “Adam is his cousin. But in any case, he’s also a close childhood friend of Luke’s.”

“Hank, will you sit down, this pacing is making me nervous,” Luke pleaded, moving to the drinks tray. He picked up the bottle of wine to give himself and Hank a refill of their pre-lunch drinks. Angela and Annabel shook their heads, smiling, at Luke’s invitation for a topping up. Luke went on, “We were delighted when Adam told us he had bought Eight-South. But Hank, how did you get to meet Adam, and what, exactly is making you so worried for him?”

“We met when he first came to look at the place. I introduced myself and invited him for a drink. We hit it off right away; he’s an attractive, charming man. I saw him again when he brought his interior designer. But never mind that, now.

“Adam arrived late last night, just as I was saying goodnight to a guest… No, no. Nobody special. You can remove that matchmaking glint from your eyes, Angela.” Hank grinned impudently at Angela, whom he suspected of gentle matchmaking propensities. He continued, “In any case, there was Adam. In spite of his tan he looked very pale, he seemed hardly able to carry his suitcase, so I hastily waved ‘goodnight’ to my guest, and hurried over to help. His suitcase was just an overnight bag, not heavy at all. He didn’t seem too steady on his legs, so I put my arm around him and literally helped him into the condo, into his bedroom, where he fell down on the bed fully dressed. So, with a bit of an effort I got his clothes off – most of them, and got him under the covers.

“He seemed to be burning up with a fever, so I dampened a washcloth and laid it on his forehead. I got him a glass of juice from his refrigerator, and helped him sit up a bit so he could drink it. Helped him to the bathroom and back to bed.

“I went in again this morning, and gave him some more juice, another bathroom visit, and I sponged him down a bit. But he’ll need nursing, won’t he?” Hank’s handsome face wore a frown, and his deep blue eyes looked worried.

Angela, a vision in a soft yellow sundress, turned to Annabel, who had been silent so far. She was, by nature, a quiet person. Looking younger than her thirty years, Annabel wore a sundress of soft blue cotton, matching slides on her narrow feet.

“Belle… You’re a practical nurse, aren’t you?” Angela asked. “Could you look after Adam for a bit? He’s right across from Hank’s place.”

“Well, actually I’m a Health Care Aide, I passed the exam, so that I could nurse my Dad through his last illness, in Toronto, that was. And yes, I had heard about Adam Tremayne moving in. He’s the poet whose work I love.” She turned to Angela. “I was thinking that a poet, so sensitive, might not be too pleased to find a total stranger nursing him.”

“Actually, he won’t be surprised to find someone coming to nurse him, because I said I would get one of ‘Manuel’s Maidens’ to come to his condo to keep it clean, make his bed, do laundry, all that. But I haven’t yet called Manuel, and you, with a health care diploma, would be so much better for him. He really needs more nursing than Manuel’s Maidens can possibly give. Well, Belle?”

Annabel shrugged in surrender. “All right,” she agreed. “He needs nursing, and as I’m the only one who’s ever done that before, I guess I’m elected.”

“By acclamation,” said Hank. “Belle, can you come with me now? I’m seriously worried about Adam just lying there, burning up with a fever.”

“Yes, of course I will, Hank. Shall I stop off at the third floor to change from this sundress to something more formal, pick up my blood-pressure cuff, thermometer?”

“No, let’s not waste time on that – Adam’s too sick to get worked up about what dress you’re wearing – I can pick up those medical things from your condo and bring them later,” Hank urged.

“All right, then. I’ll come right away. Here’s my key, Hank, to pick up the cuff and thermometer.”

“Hold on a minute, troops,” said Angela. “I just made some chicken soup, and you better take some up to him. If he’s burning up with a fever and doesn’t eat, he’ll get weaker, and will need a longer convalescence.”

“True enough. Hank, you can carry the soup.” Hank and Annabel left the MacLean’s condo, and the prospect of a delicious lunch. Neither of them gave that a thought.

When they arrived at Eight-South, Hank said, “It’s open,” moving the big handle down with his elbow, standing aside for Annabel to enter.

“It’s me, Adam,” Hank called from the foyer. “I’ve brought your nurse.”

If there was a reply, it was so low that Hank and Annabel didn’t hear it. Hank detoured to the kitchen, to put the chicken soup down, before leading Annabel to the master bedroom. Adam was lying on his back, eyes closed.

Annabel stared.

“Hank… This is that gorgeous man I told you about, whom I met at the publishers’ party. Oh, dear God… Well, never mind that, he obviously needs me to nurse him.”

She noticed that Adam’s face was pale, except for an unhealthy blush along his cheekbones, his forehead beaded with perspiration, his breathing rapid and shallow – definitely, he had a fever.

“Hello,” she said softly. “Mr. Tremayne? I’m Annabel Browne. I’ve come to…”

“I know…” Adam groaned. “Please… some water to drink. And…”

“Right away.” Annabel hurried to the kitchen to fetch a glass of cold water. She went to Adam, putting her arm under his shoulders. He’s burning up with this fever…

With an effort she managed to raise him to an almost sitting position, letting him lean against her shoulder. She held the glass of water to his lips. He drank thirstily, slumping back against her shoulder when he had drunk his fill.

“That has done you good,” she murmured. “I think if you can swallow a couple of aspirins, it will help bring your fever down.” To Hank, she said, “Please check in his medicine cabinet for aspirin – if there isn’t any, add that to the items you’ve got to get from my condo, and get those things right now, will you?”

Hank nodded, hastily disappearing into Adam’s bathroom. He returned almost immediately.

“No aspirin. Well, what would a normally healthy guy like him be doing with aspirin? This fever must be some kind of anomaly. I’ll go get the cuff, the thermometer and aspirin… anything else?”

“Yes, there’s some Tylenol there as well. Bring that, too. I’ll have to find out from Adam if he is, by any chance, allergic to aspirin.”

“Aye, aye, capt’n,” said Hank, saluting, and hurrying out of the condo.

****

“Help me to the bathroom…” Adam’s deep voice sounded a little panicky.

“Immediately,” Annabel assured him, hurrying over to the bed, gently bringing her patient to a sitting position with his legs over the edge of the bed. Almost absently, she noticed his tanned, well-muscled thighs and well-shaped legs, his long brown feet.

“Put your arms around my shoulders, so I can lift you to a standing position,” she said quietly. He did as she asked. Putting her arms around his back, she lifted. Once he stood on his feet, swaying, she put her arm tightly around his waist, draping his left arm around her shoulders, saying softly, “Lean on me.” Without another word, Adam did just that. When they got to the bathroom, she said, “You’re unsteady from the fever – would it bother you if I made you sit down?”

He shook his head, merely whispering, “Hurry…”

Quickly, she stripped his bikini underwear down, lowering him to the lavatory seat. She hurriedly withdrew. “Call me when you’ve finished.”

She hastily went in search of pajama pants, and when she heard his voice, calling weakly, “Nurse…” she hurried to him, the pajama pants over her arm.

“I think we’ll put these on you once you’re back in bed again,” she said calmly. Her eyes on his, she tucked a towel around his waist, then stripped his underwear off.

“Thank you…” he breathed.

Bending down to him, she felt him put his arms around her shoulders again, trying to help her lift him by pushing up as much as he could in his weakened state. Instead of putting him back in bed, Annabel guided him to a big wing chair across from the bed, sitting him in it.

“I’m just going to remake your bed with fresh sheets,” she explained, smiling encouragingly. He nodded, leaning his head against the high chair back. Frowning a little, he gazed at her, confusion in his midnight dark eyes. After a few moments, he shook his dark head, closing his eyes. Clearly, the trip to the bathroom had exhausted him.

A little later, Hank arrived back with aspirin, Tylenol, thermometer and cuff.

“Thanks, Hank,” she said distractedly over her shoulder. All her efforts were concentrated on getting Adam out of the chair and back into bed.

When he felt the clean, crisp sheets, he glanced gratefully at her and mouthed a thank you.

She smiled at him. “I’ll get your legs into the pajama bottoms first, then I’ll slowly move them up under the towel. When I’ve got them on you, I’ll remove the towel.”

“Thank you…” he said, his deep voice shaky.

When she completed the task and whisked the towel away, she asked him, “Can you tell me whether you’ve ever taken aspirin?”

He seemed to consider for a while, then he said slowly, “Yes… once… flu. My mother…gave me aspirin.”

“And you felt no ill effects from it?” she persisted. He merely shook his head.

“Good. Then I’ll bring you some water, and ask you to take two of these coated aspirins. They’re easier to swallow than uncoated.” Shaking two tablets onto her palm, stretching it out to him, and giving him the glass of water, he swallowed the tablets with some effort.

“You’ll soon begin to feel better, when your fever starts to come down a bit. Then I’ll let you have a shower. You’ll feel better when you’re cooler.”

“Yes… a shower,” he whispered. She smiled at him, and made him more comfortable against his pillows.

“Try to get some rest, now,” she murmured. She was concerned to see how overtired he was – yet she couldn’t help thinking how gorgeous he looked, in spite of his fever.

Hank had withdrawn to the bedroom door, watching Annabel with relief and gratitude. She suddenly thought Adam would be too weak to stand up in the shower.

“Hank – I’m going to need a chair for Adam to sit in while he showers. I’ve got a couple of director’s chairs, folded up, in that chest on my balcony. They’re just white painted wood with yellow sailcloth crosspieces. Will you please get one out for me and put it into his shower stall? I’m sure he’ll feel a lot better when he’s had a shower after the aspirin takes effect. All the same, I’d really like to have a doctor check him over. I feel I’m working without a net here.”

Hank nodded his agreement. “Listen, my sister is married to a doctor, a great guy. I’ll ask him to come in and see what else needs to be done for Adam, all right?”

“Thanks, Hank. I’d feel a lot better, nursing to a doctor’s instructions.”

“I’ll just get that folding chair for you. Be right back.” Hank was just about to disappear, when she called him back.

“Hank – could you possibly find an overnight bag for me, put in several days’ worth of underthings, and a couple of clean dresses? Anything will do… and my toothbrush, deodorant, that bottle of moisturizer lotion? You can find those things on the vanity in my bathroom. I know it’s an awful drag for you, having to search for ladies’ underwear, but I don’t think Adam should be left alone. Tonight, I’m going to have a quick shower here in his bathroom, put on some fresh clothes, and if you could bring that wing chair a lot closer to his bed, I’ll sleep in it. If he wakes in the night and needs something, I’ll be there for him.”

“Of course, Belle – I’ll try to be as quick as I can.”

“Take your time,” she whispered. “He’s fallen asleep – best thing for him. But please remember to ask your brother-in-law to come look at him.”

“You can count on me, Belle. You’ve been such a help, pitching in here at a moment’s notice.”

“Never mind that. I could see you were right, he needed me.”

****

Several hours later, Annabel felt a great deal more confident about her unexpected nursing duties. Hank’s brother-in-law, Dr. Bill Reese, came as soon as Hank explained the situation. When Annabel showed him the fever chart and blood pressure readings she had recorded, marking the aspirins she had given the patient, he reassured her.

“You’ve done everything just right. By all means continue to nurse Adam in exactly the same way. I’ll take a little blood for tests, in case the fever is due to some infection,” he explained. “I agree that the patient shouldn’t be left alone overnight, but I wonder if you should have someone to spell you?” Annabel shook her head.

“I’ll get plenty of sleep in this chair, Doctor. Hank collected some fresh clothing for me in an overnight bag, so I’ll be able to stay here until the patient is a whole lot better. But I hope you’ll continue to look in on him, just to make sure I’m doing all that can be done. It’s some time ago that I got my Aide diploma in Canada, and I’d never forgive myself if Adam’s illness were to get worse, through some omission of mine…”

Bill smiled at her. “Of course I’ll continue to look in on him. Meanwhile, don’t you wear yourself out too much.”

“I won’t, Doctor. Thank you.”

She saw him politely to the door, quickly returning to Adam, who had woken up slightly during Bill’s examination, and was now fully alert.

“Was someone here?” he asked, his voice sleepy.

“Yes, Hank’s brother-in-law, an excellent physician. He said that what I’ve done so far for you is correct. He’ll come back tomorrow to see how you’re doing. He also approved my idea of taking you to shower, as you’ll feel better all freshened up. Tell me, do you feel you could do that now?”

“Yes, I’d like that…” His voice was a little stronger.

“Good. That’s what we’ll do. Your fever is slowly coming down, by the way, thanks to the aspirin. Dr. Reese approved the dose I’ve been giving you, so we’ll continue like that.” Annabel moved Adam’s legs over the edge of the bed, to help him up. He understood, and put his arms around her shoulders without being asked. Putting her own arms around his back, she began to lift him. Pleased, she noticed that he tried to help her by pushing himself up with his legs against the side of the bed, as she lifted.

“Thank you. You helped me lift you. That must mean you’re beginning to feel a little better.” She had succeeded in getting him to his feet. Before she could take his left arm and drape it around her shoulders, he gripped her upper arm with his hand, which felt dry and hot against her skin.

“Your skin… so cool,” he sighed. She smiled, holding his narrow waist firmly.

“Lean on me,” she encouraged. When they got to the shower stall, she indicated the director’s chair Hank had put there.

“I want you to shower sitting down until you feel stronger and the fever has come down quite a bit more, all right?” she suggested. He merely nodded.

Reaching for the dial, Annabel turned it on, adjusting it to pleasantly warm, which was cooler than his skin temperature.

“Hang on to the doorframe,” Annabel asked, as she stood behind him, deftly stripping him of the pajama pants. She carefully turned him around, her eyes on his, letting him down slowly into the chair. He sat down with a sigh. Quickly, she dropped a facecloth into his lap, her eyes never leaving his. Adam hastily adjusted the cloth to cover his genitals.

“Thank you,” he sighed again. Then, to her consternation, “I’m sure I’ve seen you before…”

“Well, I live in this building, on the third floor,” Annabel said, praying that Adam wouldn’t make the connection to their first meeting at the publishers’ party. She felt sure he’d be embarrassed to be nursed by someone he had met socially, however briefly.

He merely nodded. Relieved, she asked, “While you’re in the shower, would you like me to wash your hair, perhaps?” Again, he nodded, with an almost inaudible “thanks.” She washed his hair gently, also massaging his neck, which seemed a bit tense to her.

“Oh…” he said on a moan. “That feels so good…”

“Does it? I’m glad. You seemed a bit tense to me. I thought if I could massage the tension away…”

After the hair washing, she gently but thoroughly bathed him, finally slipping the soap into his hands, putting the removable shower head over his shoulder, with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“I thought you might prefer to help me by washing your…”

“Yes, oh yes, I would…” he said, his voice a little stronger.

At last, she wrapped him in a bath sheet, and slowly helped him to the big wing chair, which Hank had positioned close to the bed.

“Sit here while I dry you.”

“Thank you…” he said, again. “But you got your dress all wet…”

“It isn’t that wet,” she smiled. “It’ll dry soon enough.”

Once she got him back in bed, a fresh pair of pajama pants on, she said, “Luke’s wife sent some chicken soup for you. Would you be willing to try some? It might help you fight the fever, and make your convalescence briefer.”

“I’m not hungry, but if you think so…” Adam said doubtfully.

“Of course you’re not hungry, having had this high fever for – how long, before you finally succumbed to it?”

“Not long… it suddenly got worse – was that yesterday? When I came home?”

“Yes, yesterday,” Annabel smiled. “And look how much better you are already.”

“Yes, I am.” Adam’s voice sounded firmer.

After he had eaten the modest portion of chicken soup she dished up for him, he leaned back against his pillows, fatigue etching his handsome face.

“You’re tired from all this activity… Showering, getting dressed, eating soup — Small wonder. Why don’t you lie down and see if you can fall asleep again?”

“Are you… leaving me… going home?” His slim, dark eyebrows drew together in a worried frown.

Annabel shook her head. “No, I won’t leave you. Dr. Reese agrees that someone should stay with you overnight. I’ll sit here in this big wing chair, with my feet on the ottoman. I’ll be perfectly comfortable, and I promise you, even if I fell asleep, I’d hear you if you made the slightest sound.”

“Not leaving me… Thank you,” Adam whispered. His long lashes drifted down, and his face relaxed in sleep.

Adam’s fever began to leave him the next day and, although still weak, he felt a lot better, and began to take an interest in what was happening.

“Should I pay you, or Manuel?” he asked suddenly.

“Please don’t worry about that, Luke or Hank has taken care of it,” she said hastily.

He nodded. “I guess I was lucky that Manuel sent you, and not some cleaner with no idea about nursing someone as sick as I felt.”

“That could never have happened. Luke and Hank arranged for me to come,” Annabel smiled. “Do you think you could drink some cranberry juice? Perhaps eat some toast points with peanut butter – a good source of protein. I’ve also made a casserole with sliced chicken breasts, rice and veggies. It’s easy to digest, and I hope you’ll want to eat some of it later on.”

Adam smiled tiredly. “It sounds delicious. Thank you. I hope Manuel pays you handsomely for all your talents – nursing, cleaning, laundry, cooking…”

“Don’t worry about that for a single moment, it’s all taken care of.”

****

The next evening, Annabel suggested Adam might like to sit in the big wing chair to have dinner on a tray. He was grateful for the suggestion. As he ate, he watched her deftly making his bed with fresh linen, laying out fresh pajama pants for him.

When he had finished eating, he asked, “I suppose you’ll want to go home tonight? Several nights of too little sleep, sitting up in that chair…” It did not escape Annabel that the idea of her leaving him made Adam uneasy.

“Not if you don’t want me to,” she said calmly. “You’re doing very well, and your fever’s come down a lot, but you’re still weak from it, and if you don’t feel confident of being able to get up in the night, to get a drink of water or whatever…”

“Particularly ‘whatever’,” he said, with a rueful grin. “Would you really be willing to stay? You could sleep in the guest suite.”

“But if I slept in your guest suite, I might not hear you when you called me. No, I’ll be perfectly fine sleeping in your chair, my feet on the ottoman. Don’t worry about me for a moment. I’ll stay the night with you, as long as you feel you need me.”

“Thank you… so much.” Adam’s deep voice was husky with emotion. Then a thought seemed to hit him. “Tell me, what made someone like you, so very good at nursing, take a job as a cleaner with Manuel’s Maidens? And you live in this building? I don’t understand…”

“I don’t go out doing cleaning for Manuel’s Maidens, I assure you. I’m merely available for nurse’s aide duties, that’s all.” She sounded far calmer than she felt. Why did Hank start this fairy tale about my being one of Manuel’s Maidens?

Adam nodded quietly. “Yes, I see. I did wonder…” he said, his voice musing, his dark eyes gazing searchingly at Annabel, again.

When Adam had been without fever for three days, Bill Reese declared himself satisfied with Adam’s progress. The blood work had come back ‘clean,’ he said.

“So now all that remains is for you to get well again, eat nutritious food, drink lots of freshly pressed juice, and get all the rest you need.

“You’ll have to be careful, because that fever weakened you. Take it easy, no chores, no excessive anything, while you’re convalescing, all right? But by all means go for short walks on the beach. I said ‘short’ – by which I mean that you can walk at most ten minutes in one direction, rest a bit, and back. Then I want you to sit down in one of those loungers around the pool, and catch your breath. Swim a few laps in the pool, but don’t you dare fight the currents in the ocean. Once you’ve got your strength back, you can do all those things again. Now, promise you won’t overdo.”

Adam asked, “Would you prefer that my nurse accompanies me on those walks, sits by the pool while I swim?”

“For the next little while, yes, that would be a good idea.”

Adam glanced at Annabel. “Would you be able to stay with me a while longer, to supervise my convalescence, as it were?”

“Of course I will,” said Annabel easily.

“Thank you.” Adam’s slightly husky voice was low.

That afternoon, Luke and Angela came by. Annabel made tea and cinnamon toast for all, and after serving it, she wanted to withdraw to remake Adam’s bed with fresh linen. Adam would not have it.

“Annabel… Please, sit down and have a cup of tea with us?”

“I was just going to put fresh sheets on your bed, and wash the ones I’ve stripped off,” she said apologetically.

“Can’t you do that a little later? You’ve done nothing but work ever since you came here. I’d like you to sit down and have tea with us, and meet my friends.”

“Oh, I know Luke and Angela,” Annabel smiled.

“Of course you do – that’s how they managed to find you to nurse me,” Adam recalled.

Annabel nodded. “I’ll be pleased to have a cup of tea with you.”

****

A week later, Annabel said goodbye to Adam.

“I’ve made a few casseroles ahead. They’re in your freezer, and one is in your refrigerator. I’ve written on them how many minutes, how hot the oven should be, so at least you’ll have nutritious food for a while to help you get your strength back. All your laundry is done, and I’ve just put fresh sheets on your bed. Well, I guess that’s all I can do for you.”

Feeling inexplicably sad, Annabel gazed into his dark eyes, noticing for the first time that they were a dark indigo, with sapphire lights in their depths. With an effort, she looked away. “Goodbye, Mr. Tremayne. Get completely well quickly, and stay well,” she said, her voice none too steady.

Unhappy and dejected, Adam said, “No. That isn’t quite all. For one thing, please don’t call me ‘Mr. Tremayne.’ My name is Adam. Won’t you please call me by my name? And I owe you an enormous debt of gratitude. Tell me, would you have dinner with me sometimes? Once I’m well again? I mean – that wouldn’t be some breach of medical protocol?”

“No, of course not – Adam…” she said hesitantly, and hoped he hadn’t heard how her voice lingered on his name.

“Well, Annabel? Will you have dinner with me – soon?”

“Thank you – Adam… I’d love to.” Her voice was very soft.