work at being halfway civilized the next time I see you."
"Don't work too hard. I like you pretty well just the way you are." Her eyes were wide and uncertain, looking up at him. "You will be here when I wake up, won't you?" She smiled shakily. "I mean, you don't
have any other terrorists to catch or planes to blow up or anything?"
"I'll be here." He kept his tone deliberately offhand. "I thought I'd stick around until you were well and then escort you to Zalandan myself. After all, you're still technically my responsibility. I always like to tie up all the loose ends on any mission I undertake."
She felt a little ripple of pain mixing with the joy that news brought her. Responsibility. She was sure he hadn't meant to hurt her. He couldn't know just how bone-weary she was of being a responsibility to everyone. She smiled with an effort. "That sounds like fun. It will be interesting to see what kind of pyrotechnics you can instigate on a more conventional journey."
He bent forward and brushed a fairy-light kiss on her forehead. "I'll try to see what I can do to keep you amused." He straightened and reached for the switch on the lamp. He suddenly hesitated. "Would you rather I left the light on?"
"Why should I?" she asked curiously. "I'm not a child afraid of the dark."
"No, of course you're not. I guess I wasn't thinking straight." The light flicked off, plunging the room into darkness. "Good night, Zilah."
"Good night, Daniel." She felt bereft as she watched his massive shadow stride toward the door on the far side of the room.
"Daniel?"
He paused as he opened the door. The dim light from the hall haloed his auburn head with flame, but left the rest of him in silhouette. "Yes?"
"I have one more question. Who undressed me?"
There was a short silence before he answered. "I did. I undressed you and bathed you myself. Philip
has no women servants. I thought you'd rather have me do it than a stranger."
She felt a sultry tingle of awareness sweep through her. Good heavens, she was supposed to be ill and yet even the thought of Daniel's hands and eyes on her naked body sent a wrenching stab of desire for him through her. From frigidity to nymphomania in one experience, she thought ruefully. No, not nymphomania. It was only Daniel that she wanted. Only Daniel. "You were right," she said huskily. "Thankyou."
"You're welcome." He hesitated, and when he spoke again the words came jerkily. "You're a very beautiful woman, Zilah. Avery special woman. I hope ..." His words trailed off. "Good night." The door closed softly behind him.
There was a tiny frown creasing Zilah's forehead as she turned on her side and settled her cheek on the satin pillow. Her uneasiness was growing by the minute. Why had Daniel been so reserved, almost cool with her? It couldn't have been entirely her imagination. In the brief time they had known each other she had learned to read him too well to mistake the signs of his withdrawal.
Perhaps he was having second thoughts about the so-called obsession he had formed for her. The thought sent a chill of depression through her and she drew the sheet up to her chin with a little shiver. Well, what if he had? He was probably right to be wary of a relationship that had started so precipitously and had exploded with such wild force. Perhaps he had satisfied his desire for her and no longer wanted her in that way anymore. What did she know about how long it took for men to tire of women? She should be equally sensible and offer Daniel the platonic friendship he appeared to want now. She knew that friendship lasted. If that was what he
wanted. Oh, she just didn't know. Last night everything had seemed so beautifully certain and now she was miserably unsure.
Then she determinedly cleared her mind of doubts and closed her eyes. The man was completely exhausted. She was foolish to try to analyze his actions when she couldn't possibly expect him to behave in a normal manner. For that matter, how did she know
"Don't work too hard. I like you pretty well just the way you are." Her eyes were wide and uncertain, looking up at him. "You will be here when I wake up, won't you?" She smiled shakily. "I mean, you don't
have any other terrorists to catch or planes to blow up or anything?"
"I'll be here." He kept his tone deliberately offhand. "I thought I'd stick around until you were well and then escort you to Zalandan myself. After all, you're still technically my responsibility. I always like to tie up all the loose ends on any mission I undertake."
She felt a little ripple of pain mixing with the joy that news brought her. Responsibility. She was sure he hadn't meant to hurt her. He couldn't know just how bone-weary she was of being a responsibility to everyone. She smiled with an effort. "That sounds like fun. It will be interesting to see what kind of pyrotechnics you can instigate on a more conventional journey."
He bent forward and brushed a fairy-light kiss on her forehead. "I'll try to see what I can do to keep you amused." He straightened and reached for the switch on the lamp. He suddenly hesitated. "Would you rather I left the light on?"
"Why should I?" she asked curiously. "I'm not a child afraid of the dark."
"No, of course you're not. I guess I wasn't thinking straight." The light flicked off, plunging the room into darkness. "Good night, Zilah."
"Good night, Daniel." She felt bereft as she watched his massive shadow stride toward the door on the far side of the room.
"Daniel?"
He paused as he opened the door. The dim light from the hall haloed his auburn head with flame, but left the rest of him in silhouette. "Yes?"
"I have one more question. Who undressed me?"
There was a short silence before he answered. "I did. I undressed you and bathed you myself. Philip
has no women servants. I thought you'd rather have me do it than a stranger."
She felt a sultry tingle of awareness sweep through her. Good heavens, she was supposed to be ill and yet even the thought of Daniel's hands and eyes on her naked body sent a wrenching stab of desire for him through her. From frigidity to nymphomania in one experience, she thought ruefully. No, not nymphomania. It was only Daniel that she wanted. Only Daniel. "You were right," she said huskily. "Thankyou."
"You're welcome." He hesitated, and when he spoke again the words came jerkily. "You're a very beautiful woman, Zilah. Avery special woman. I hope ..." His words trailed off. "Good night." The door closed softly behind him.
There was a tiny frown creasing Zilah's forehead as she turned on her side and settled her cheek on the satin pillow. Her uneasiness was growing by the minute. Why had Daniel been so reserved, almost cool with her? It couldn't have been entirely her imagination. In the brief time they had known each other she had learned to read him too well to mistake the signs of his withdrawal.
Perhaps he was having second thoughts about the so-called obsession he had formed for her. The thought sent a chill of depression through her and she drew the sheet up to her chin with a little shiver. Well, what if he had? He was probably right to be wary of a relationship that had started so precipitously and had exploded with such wild force. Perhaps he had satisfied his desire for her and no longer wanted her in that way anymore. What did she know about how long it took for men to tire of women? She should be equally sensible and offer Daniel the platonic friendship he appeared to want now. She knew that friendship lasted. If that was what he
wanted. Oh, she just didn't know. Last night everything had seemed so beautifully certain and now she was miserably unsure.
Then she determinedly cleared her mind of doubts and closed her eyes. The man was completely exhausted. She was foolish to try to analyze his actions when she couldn't possibly expect him to behave in a normal manner. For that matter, how did she know
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