Taming Jason. Lucy Gordon

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      CHAPTER ONE

      IT WAS dark in the room, and very quiet. The man in the bed lay in the mute blackness of despair.

      Nurse Smith watched him for a moment before saying, ‘Good afternoon, Mr Tenby.’

      Silence. He might have been dead.

      His eyes were covered, as they had been ever since the accident that had almost killed him. Elinor knew how bad the injuries beneath those bandages were. She looked at his hands lying on the coverlet. Such big, ruthless hands, like the man himself. Jason Tenby had enforced his will on all who crossed his path, but today he was helpless, at the mercy of a woman who called him her enemy.

      Elinor Smith pulled herself together. She was a nurse, sworn to protect the sick and vulnerable, and this man was both. It didn’t matter that he’d smashed her love and condemned her to a lonely wilderness. It was her job to care for him.

      ‘I don’t want any more damned nurses,’ the man said tiredly.

      ‘I know. They told me at the agency.’

      ‘The last two ran away.’

      ‘You mean they stormed out in indignation.’

      Jason Tenby gave a grunt. ‘You’ve heard about that too?’

      ‘The head of the agency told me everything. He said it was fairer to warn me about you.’

      ‘So you’ve only yourself to blame for ignoring his warning.’

      ‘That’s right. I’ve only myself to blame.’

      ‘How long, I wonder, before you storm out?’

      ‘It’ll take more than you can throw at me.’ She was feeling her way, sensing that a robust approach would work best with this patient. Sympathy would merely drive him crazy. He was already on the edge of endurance, clinging on with frantic fingertips to a crumbling sanity.

      She looked around his old-fashioned room, with its big oak bed and heavy oak furniture. The carpet was a deep brown, and russet curtains hung at the tall windows.

      It was an intensely masculine room with nothing soft or gentle about it. The man who lived in this wealthy house spent little on his personal needs. A hard man. A comfortless man in a comfortless desert.

      ‘And your name?’ he asked at last.

      ‘Nurse Smith.’

      ‘I meant your first name.’

      ‘I think Nurse Smith is best for the moment.’

      ‘The formal approach, huh?’

      ‘It’ll make it easier for you to yell at me.’

      ‘I guess it will at that. Tell me what you look like.’

      ‘I wear a white uniform and a white cap. And black, sensible shoes.’

      In the long pause that followed, she could sense him sizing her up.

      ‘By God, you’re a cool one!’ he said at last.

      ‘I’m here to help you, Mr Tenby. That’s all that matters. I want to see you up and walking, as you used to.’

      His voice had a bitter edge. ‘And you really think that can happen? Have you read the notes?’

      ‘Yes. There was a fire in your stables. You went in to rescue a horse and the roof fell on you.’

      Another grunt. ‘Damned horse wasn’t even there. Someone else had already got it out.’

      ‘It must have been hard having all this happen for nothing,’ Elinor agreed. ‘You were lucky not to have been seriously burned.’

      ‘Yes, people keep telling me how lucky I was,’ said the sightless figure on the bed.

      ‘You were partially protected by the beams that fell on you. Because of them your burns were superficial, and have now healed. So have your ribs. Your back’s injured and your sight has been damaged, but with luck that won’t last.’

      ‘You’re just giving me the same line they all СКАЧАТЬ