Lie to Me (12 page)

“I can use disinfectant?” There was a bright note in her voice.

“Sure, use the whole bottle.  Whatever.”

“Okay.”

With relief he heard her disappear down the hallway, Jezebel meowing as she followed.

He dozed uneasily, coughing and waking enough to blow his nose.  Several times Moira came in, once to let him know Jezebel had done her business and that Moira had done what he’d asked, and the second time to let him know she was going and to ring her if he needed her.  With a promise that she’d call back in the afternoon she left.  He groaned in relief as the front door shut and once more silence reigned.

People seriously underestimated the value of silence and peace.

Next time he woke it was to find Simon standing by the bed.

“Jesus.” Ryder rolled onto his back.  “Is this the train station or something?”

“You’re sick,” Simon stated.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Here, I got you some cold and flu tablets.”

“Not taking them.”

“Don’t be a wanker.  Just take them.”  Simon popped two out of the blister pack and held them out to him.

“No.  I’ll just ride out this thing.  I’ll be fine.”  He lay one arm across his forehead.  “Donny tell you?”

“Yep.”

“You shouldn’t be here, you’ll catch the wog, too.”

“Yeah, well.”  Simon shrugged.  “Can’t have you turning up your toes.  Your Mum would never forgive me.”

“Mum’s not here, she’ll never know.”

Simon grinned.

Sourly, Ryder surveyed him from under the edge of his arm before a coughing fit had him lurching upright.

By the time he’d finished, Simon was eyeing him soberly.  “Think you left a lung on the doona.”

“You know what?  I don’t do so well with people when I’m sick.”

“You don’t say.  Just take these two pills, they’ll help dry up your honker.”

“I don’t believe in taking shit.  I believe in letting the system do its job.”

“I believe you’re an idiot.”

“Then you and Dee are of the same mind.”

Simon looked at him thoughtfully.

Okay, now Ryder felt like shit not only because of the flu.  “Look, man, I’m sorry.  I just do better alone.  No offence, okay?  I’ll owe you a beer and a meal at the pub after all this to make up for my sucky behaviour.”  He coughed, spat into a tissue and grimaced.

God, he needed to brush his teeth.  His mouth felt like the bottom of a cocky’s cage.

“What if I get Ash or-” Simon began.

“Nah, she’s too sweet to tolerate my shitty humour.  Besides, Scott would ream me good if I yelled at her.”  Ryder tossed the tissue into the half full basket and leaned back against the headboard.

“Hmmm.”  Simon studied him consideringly.

“I’ll be fine,” Ryder assured him, trying another smile, just as small and just as fake as the one he’d given his sister earlier.  “See?  I’m almost good as new already.”

“Uh-huh.”  Simon nodded, placed the two tablets by the water bottle.

“Don’t put it there, man.  Jezebel might eat it.”  Grabbing the tablets, Ryder dropped them into the top drawer before flopping back down.

“I’ll leave you,” Simon said.  “I’ll check in later, okay?”

“Yeah, you do that.”  As Simon reached the bedroom door, Ryder said, “Hey.”

Simon looked inquiringly over his shoulder.

“How’d you get in the house?”

“Moira gave me the key.”

Figured.  Ryder sighed as Simon started out again.  “Oh, and mate?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.  Really.  No offence, hey?”

“Mate, if I was to take offence at you, we’d never have been friends from the beginning.  I know you’re a total arse.”

Ryder grinned.

Simon grinned back and left.

Oh thank God, blessed peace.

The next time he woke it was to find a pretty face hovering above his, pale blue eyes fringed with black eyelashes and a long, thick braid hanging over one shoulder.  A cool hand was pressed lightly to his hot, sweaty forehead.

Completely disorientated, he thought for a minute that he was still in his dream, that he was crooking his finger at the girl and she was bending closer and then something nice was going to happen, something that-

“Heard you were being a dumb arse,” Dee announced.  “I’m here to sort you out.”

Chapter 4

He blinked up at her groggily.  “Did you buy a ticket as well?”

“Nope.  This is purely good will.”

“You don’t do good will.”

“Then call it my personal punishment for some sin I don’t remember.”  She studied him.  “You need some soup.”

Oh yeah, now she was talking.  Soup and a soothing palm on his hot brow.  Ryder struggled up onto one elbow, which put him really close to her.  As she pulled back, he caught a whiff of the Cashmere soap and powder she used, along with a light, flowery perfume.  The freshness of it combined was welcome.

“Right.” Straightening, she reached for a glass on the bedside chest of drawers.  “I’ve opened the window to let in some fresh air.”

“Okay.”  He should have been annoyed but felt a little coddled instead, which was nice.

“You’re going to take these tablets.”  She held her hand out to show the two small, white round tablets.

“I don’t believe in-”

“Stop arguing.  Take them.”

Now he was annoyed.  “I just told you-”

“And I just told you.  These have paracetamol in for your temperature and any aches you have, as well as decongestant for your nose.”

Frowning, he pushed up into a sitting position, resting his elbows on his drawn up knees.  “I’m not taking them.”

“You are.”

“Look-”

“Don’t make me squeeze your nose shut to get your mouth open, Ryder, and believe me, I will do it.”

No doubt about that.  Head swimming a little from his movements, he coughed into a hastily grabbed tissue.

“Got medicine to help with the cough as well.”  Dee jiggled her palm with the two tablets under his nose.  “Come on, Ryder, down the hatch.  Don’t be a big baby.”

“I don’t like taking shit.”  Jesus, he sounded petulant.  Truthfully, he’d never liked taking medicine.  Being sick just made him crankier.

“Do I need to get a glove?” Dee asked.

“What for?”

“To squeeze your nose shut, because I’m not handling that leaking honker without a glove, let me give you the tip.”

He glared blearily at her.

She arched one brow back at him.

“Do you want some homemade soup?”

“Yeah.”

“Take these.”

“Are you bribing me?”

“No, I’m telling you.”

He looked down at the tablets then back up at her.

Calmly, she held up a rubber glove.

His eyes widened.  “Are you joking?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

For several seconds he stared incredulously at her.  She gazed calmly back at him.  Jesus, was she serious?  She’d really pinch his nostrils shut?  She’d
fight
him?

Yeah, she probably would, and that would be downright ridiculous.

“Fine,” he snapped, the effect spoiled by the coughing and the fact he had to stop to blow his nose for the thousandth time. Tossing the used tissue into the basket by the bed, he straightened and glowered at her.  “If I take the damned pills, will you leave me alone?”

“Sure.”

Grabbing the tablets, he popped them in his mouth and washed them down with the glass of fresh, cold water she handed him.

As soon as he handed it back to her, she grabbed the doona and yanked it back along with the sheet.

“What the-” he began.

“Up and shower while I change the sheets and pillow case.”

“Are you insane?  I’m sick.”

“And sweaty.  Your sheets are soaked.  Have a tepid shower and when you come back I’ll have your bed made with clean linen.”

Before Ryder knew it, Dee had her arm around his shoulders and was expertly manoeuvring him out of bed.  She was taking charge with a quiet, no-nonsense attitude.

As soon as he was on his feet, she shoved a pair of clean boxers into his hands.  “Need me to walk you to the bathroom?”

“What?  No.”  Taking a few steps forward, he wavered a little, feeling her cool palm come to rest with surprising reassurance in the small of his back.

It sent a shiver of pleasure through him.

Now this was why he didn’t take chemical medicine crap, it did weird things to a person.  The bloody cold and flu tablets were messing with his brain already.  Talk about fast-acting.

“Come on.”  Dee started steering him towards the bedroom door.

Still a little befuddled, he let her direct him across the hallway to the bathroom where he watched her place his clean boxers on the bathroom sink before she leaned across the old bath to turn on the shower.

Interesting pose.  Sick as he was, he couldn’t help but let his gaze wander over her figure.  Bending forward with one arm stretched out so her hand was under the spray, the other hand braced on the wall, he could see the graceful dip of the small of her back, not to mention the way those rounded breasts pressed against her t-shirt.  Her bottom filled out a pair of loose, light, flower-printed pants, one leg slightly back with the point of her sandal against the tiled floor.

The posture was almost perfect.  Now if she turned to the bathroom sink and bent forward over it, bracing her hands on the cool surface, arched her back and thrust out that generously curved bottom at him, he could -

“Okay.” Straightening, she turned to him.  “The water is just right.  Don’t turn it any hotter.  You need tepid to help cool you off.”

Boy, she had no idea. 
Heh heh
.  He blinked a little foggily. 
Wait.  What?

“Do you need some help?”

There was no doubting the concern in her eyes.  That helped jolt him back to awareness.  “I’ll be naked.”  That sounded a little funny.  He grinned crookedly.  “In my birthday suit.”

“I get the idea,” she replied dryly.  “Do you need help?”

Snuffling, he leaned down towards her.  “I’ll be hanging free in the rain.”

“I think that’s wind, genius.”

“Wind, rain, whatever.  I’ll be naked.”

“You don’t say.”

“You’ll see me naked.”

“Yep.”

“Will you wash my bat and balls?”

“Sure, why not.”

That was even funnier.  He grinned wider.  “Really?”

Folding her arms, she looked patiently up at him.  “You know you’re running a temperature, right?”

“Possibly.”  He touched his brow.  “It feels a little warm.”

“It’s hot.  You’re hot.  You’re not in your right mind.  Get in the shower and cool down.”

“Will you come in with me?”

Muttering beneath her breath, she placed both hands on his waist and turned him towards the bath.  “I’ll help you get in.”

“I still have my boxers on.”

“You can take them off once you’re in there.”

“Okay.”  A bright idea struck him.  “Can I take yours off, too?”

“I don’t wear boxers.”

“What do you wear, babe?”  He placed one hand on the wall.

“Chastity belt.  Now get in.”

Placing one foot carefully in the tub, he felt her brace to help him.  He coughed before looking over his shoulder at her.  “Maybe you should get in ahead of me.”

“Maybe you should just get in.”

“I’d love to.”  His gaze dropped to those impressive bosoms pressed against her shirt, then dipped lower.  “I’d really love to get into y-”

“Jesus, pull your head in, Ryder, and I mean both of them!”  A sudden, unexpected light whack across his backside had him jump and almost slip, going backwards so that his back was mashed up against those really soft, pillowy breasts, his shoulders leaning against Dee’s, his stubble-roughened cheek sliding along her oh, so smooth cheek.  “Oh, great,” she muttered, “just perfect.”

Man, she smelled so good.  So fresh.  Was so soft, too.  He’d never noticed that before, but man, he was noticing now.  “Isn’t it just?”  Then the cold rim of the bath tub pressed against his arse.  That wasn’t so good, definitely not soft.

“Ryder,” she said patiently, lifting her head and straightening so that the back of his head slipped from her shoulder to rest against her bountiful bosom.

Soft, mmmm mmm
.

“I don’t think I can leave you alone.”

He snuffled, coughed, flapped a hand weakly.  “I need a tissue.”

“Just sit still.”  The soft warmth of her vanished.

His head was starting to thump.  His throat was hurting, too, and every racking cough he did now made it hurt worse.

An arm appeared over his shoulder, a tissue was thrust into his hand with the instruction, “Blow.”  He did, to have the little bathroom bin appear under his nose this time with the instruction, “Drop.”

“On my belly?” Confused, he was suddenly unable to keep his thoughts straight.  “Am I a dog?”

“Oh boy.”  The basket disappeared.  “Ryder, can you stand?”

“Yeah.  Maybe.  Why am I standing?”  He glanced to the right, puzzled
.  Where they in the…?
  “Are we in the shower?  Why are we in the shower?”

“Because my brain wave was really a brain fart.”  Cool hands rested lightly on his shoulders.  “Can you stand?”

“Who are you?”  Totally confused, he pushed to his feet, reaching out to brace on the wall.

“Dee,” the woman answered patiently, her fingers hooking into his boxers.

As they fell around his ankles, Ryder said, “Oh.”  Then, “Should you be seeing me naked?”

“Why not?  Just about every other girl in town has.”

“But you’re Dee.”

“I know.  And I can’t believe I’m freakin’ doing this.”  There was a rustle, something thudded against the floor, and then there was warmth behind him.

“You’ll see my boner.”

“You don’t have one.”

“Oh.”  His head lifted as he was gently but firmly pushed forward.  “That’s not good.”

“I know it’s a shock for you, but try to hold up under it.”

Next thing he knew the tepid water hit his skin and he shivered.  “Cold.”

“No, tepid.”

“That’s barely warm, you know,” he thought to inform her, right before a racking cough shook him.

A face washer ran over his back, fragrant soap scent rising in the air.  Manly scent, he thought dimly, because he was a man.  Not sweet and florally like a woman.  Like Dee used.

The face washer ran over his shoulders and back, down to his waist, smoothed over his buttocks and down the backs of his thighs.  He’d have enjoyed it if he wasn’t so befuddled and having a hard time trying to keep his thoughts in order.

Someone firmly turned him around so that the water ran down his back, washing off the soapy suds.

“Are you a nurse?” he asked the woman in front of him.

“Yours for now,” she replied calmly.

She had on some kind of flowery long pants and a blouse.  “You’re not wearing a uniform.”

She soaped up his arms, ran the face washer under his arm pits and down his sides.  “I’m kind of a rebel in the nursing profession.”

He grinned.  “I like rebels.”

“You don’t say.”

Leaning back against the wall, he closed his eyes.  Man, his head was thumping.  The water was strangely soothing on his overheated body.

He couldn’t get his thoughts in order, something he found increasingly alarming.  “I don’t know what I’m doing.”  Reaching out, he touched the woman.  Opening his eyes, he found his hand resting on her shoulder, her gaze lifting to ensnare his.

The calm assuredness in the pale blue depths helped quiet his sudden spate of panic.  “I do.”  The soft voice was as calmly reassuring as her gaze.  “I’ll look after you, Ryder, don’t worry.”

“Sure?”

“Absolutely.”

  He closed his eyes as his head thumped.  “Okay.”

“Just stay there, I’m almost done.”  The face washer slid along his chest, down his belly and further along his thighs and calves.  He wasn’t sure what she was doing next, his mind swimming away.  Something between his thighs, fleeting, impersonal, and then the water was suddenly turned off.

Not able to focus, he leaned heavily against the woman as she guided him out of the shower, grabbing onto the towel rail as he almost pulled them both down when he stumbled.

“Just lean against here.”

He obeyed, feeling the towel dry him, rub firmly against his skin.

“Lift this foot.”  Something tapped his ankle, so he lifted.  “Now this one.”  A tap on his other ankle.  He obeyed.

Cotton material was pulled up his legs, settled around his waist.

“All right, sunshine.”  A shoulder nudged under his arm pit, his arm pulled around, something lightly shackling his wrist, something warm and soft pressing up against his side.

Someone was propping him up, a woman who smelled and felt good.  It should be him, he was the paramedic, he was the one who looked after those who needed help.  But he couldn’t think about that anymore, not when she had him moving.