Taming Jason. Lucy Gordon

you to think of yourself as blind—’

      ‘Sure! Fine!’ he snapped. ‘I’m not blind, it’s just that I can’t see anything.’

      ‘For the moment. It may not be permanent, and it’s better if you don’t get into a “blind” state of mind.’

      He gave a snort. ‘You nurses should get your act together. The last one told me exactly the opposite; never stopped twittering on about adjusting to reality.’

      ‘Adjusting to reality before you’re certain that it is reality is just giving in,’ Elinor said calmly.

      There was a silence.

      ‘So you can talk sense about something,’ Jason grunted.

      ‘You’d be amazed at the things I can talk sense about,’ Elinor told 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.’