Taming Jason. Lucy Gordon

him crisply.

      ‘Good. You can stay here for the moment. But there’s one thing.’

      ‘Yes?’

      Without warning he reached up and gripped her arms in both hands.

      ‘Mr Tenby—’

      ‘Keep still,’ he rasped.

      One hand still held her while the other slid its way up her arm to the throat of her uniform. Then he released her.

      ‘Get out of that damned uniform and wear something civilised,’ he ordered. ‘You make me ill just standing there in it.’

      ‘Very well, sir.’

      “‘Very well, sir,”’ he echoed. ‘Such a cool, calm, collected voice. Such a neutral voice. God, I wish I could see your face this minute.’

      ‘It’s a neutral face too,’ she assured him. ‘Just treat me as a piece of machinery.’

      ‘There’s machinery in my factory. It smells of axle grease, not wild flowers, as you do.’

      Elinor was startled. She wore no perfume and used unscented soap. What had he detected that was hidden from the rest of the world?

      ‘I came up because I’m not happy about you having too many people in here just now,’ she said quickly. ‘You still need a lot of rest and I think we should—’

      ‘No, I think you should listen while I make a few things plain,’ he interrupted her. ‘I’ve been ill as long as I can afford to be. There’s work to be done and nobody I can trust to do it. So if I want to talk to my manager or my bailiff I’ll do so. I hope that’s clearly understood.’

      ‘Perfectly. If you think you’re sufficiently on top of your work to give orders about it, I have nothing to say.’

      ‘Don’t try to get clever with me!’ he snapped. ‘You’re my nurse, not my keeper. I will not be molly coddled.’

      ‘I’m delighted to hear it.’

      ‘So why does Hilda tell me you’ve moved in across the corridor? If that’s not molly coddling me, what is?’

      ‘That’s a matter for my professional judgement. While you’re still in a bad condition I prefer to be near you at night.’

      ‘The hell with that! You move right out of that room and back into the other one. Do you hear?’

      ‘I hear. But I’m staying put.’

      ‘Then I’ll tell Hilda to move your stuff.’

      ‘You’ll do no such thing. Hilda has enough to do without becoming pig-in-the-middle between us. You want a fight? Fine! We’ll fight. But leave Hilda out of it.’

      He ground his teeth. ‘I think fate must have it in for me! It’s not enough that I’m laid out here, useless to myself and everyone else. I have to be cursed with a harpy who marches in here giving orders like some prison commandant. I’m still the master here, in case you didn’t realise it.’

      ‘I should think the whole world realises it if you shout like that,’ Elinor observed mildly.

      ‘I shout because it’s the only way I can get myself listened to. You’ll do what I say, when I say, and that’s final. Now clear out of here before I start getting angry.’

      CHAPTER THREE

      BEFORE Elinor could reply there was a clattering in the corridor outside then a knock on the door.

      ‘Got your supper,’ Hilda called.

      As she wheeled the trolley in Jason turned his head in her direction and Elinor noticed that he made the effort of a smile.

      ‘What good care of me you take, Hilda! Why should I need any other nurse?’

      Hilda’s plain face flushed with pleasure, but she said, ‘You stop your nonsense now, and do what the nurse tells you.’

      ‘All right, all right!’

      ‘Shall I set it up for you?’ Hilda began to make her way to an invalid table by the window. It had a free end, designed to swing over the bed.

      ‘No, Nurse Smith will do it,’ Jason told her. ‘Thank you, Hilda.’

      The light faded from his face as the door closed behind her. The pretence of cheerfulness had drained him.

      ‘The table’s over there somewhere,’ he said.

      ‘Shall I help you sit up?’

      ‘No—yes, dammit!’

      She slipped an arm under his shoulders, and he gripped her other arm. It was an effort not to flinch, remembering the last time his hands had grasped her, but she stayed calm, although her heart was beating fast. Gently she eased him into a sitting position and pulled more pillows up behind him. Then she laid out the meal on the trolley and swung it over the bed.

      ‘What is it?’ he demanded, sensing her hesitation.

      ‘Hilda’s left you a jug of gravy, Mr Tenby, but do you really want it?’ She chose her words carefully. She’d nursed the blind before, and knew how they hated gravy because it ended up everywhere.

      Jason grew still and there was a sudden arrested look on his face as though he’d heard, unexpectedly, the one hint of understanding he’d been listening for.

      ‘No, I don’t,’ he admitted at last. ‘Hilda’s a dear, but she doesn’t think.’

      ‘Is there anything else I can do for you?’

      ‘If you mean do I need my food cut up, no.’

      ‘Then I’ll leave you.’

      ‘Yes, go and start moving out of that room.’

      She left without answering. In her own room she changed out of her uniform but made no attempt to move her things.

      Downstairs, Hilda had a meal ready for her. She’d laid a table in the dining room, evidently feeling that Elinor’s dignity demanded this. But after one meal in solitary state Elinor decided to eat with Hilda in the kitchen. She carried her plates through, and began to help with the washing-up.

      ‘By the way, I looked in to see how he was managing,’ Hilda said, ‘and he told me to move your stuff.’

      ‘No,’ Elinor said urgently.

      ‘Don’t you worry. I listened with my deaf ear.’

      ‘Which ear is that?’

      ‘It varies,’ Hilda said mysteriously. ‘You do it your way.’

      Elinor laughed. She already liked Hilda very much.

      When she returned to Jason his first words were, ‘Have you got rid of that uniform?’

      ‘Yes, I’m in ordinary clothes now,’ she assured him.

      ‘Let me feel.’ He held out his hand commandingly.

      ‘Why don’t you just take my word for it, Mr Tenby?’

      ‘Because I can’t take anyone’s word for anything,’ he shouted.

      After a jagged silence he added, ‘I’m sorry. When you’re in the dark—there’s only mistrust—I don’t know how to explain—’

      ‘You don’t need to,’ she said at once. ‘It was my fault. I should have been more understanding. Here—’ She took his hand and guided it to her arm so that he could feel the soft texture of her sweater. He touched her only briefly before withdrawing his hand.

      ‘Thank you,’ he said distantly. ‘There was no need for that. Of course I believe you.’

      He’d eaten