‘How do you feel, Orsino?’
A laugh grated in his throat. ‘What? You were worried about me?’
She didn’t answer but he felt new tension in the air. Something that made him sit straighter. He sensed her turmoil and his predatory senses twitched. How he wished he could see her!
‘The whole world is wondering how you are. You’re an international hero for saving your climbing partner and yourself.’
‘Ah, that’s why you came running so quickly. To bask in the reflected media glow.’ Everywhere they’d gone, whenever he’d wanted privacy, there’d been someone with a camera wanting pictures of them, dubbed by some trashy magazine the year’s hottest couple. He’d been slow to realise it was attention Poppy, with her need for constant media coverage, wanted.
‘I see you haven’t changed, Orsino.’ Her voice came from farther away and held a razor-sharp edge. ‘Still the charmer. And still so quick to judge us lesser mortals.’
He ignored that. What was there to say? He’d been in the right. She’d been in the wrong, so far in the wrong he’d known a moment of red-hot fury when violence would have been a welcome outlet. Lucky for Poppy Graham he was a civilised man. Some men wouldn’t have walked away as he had. Some would have taken revenge for what she’d done.
Having her at his beck and call for a couple of weeks while he recuperated hardly counted.
‘Have you changed, Poppy?’ This time when he spoke her name the word emerged crisp and clear, yet he tasted the echo of it on his tongue, sweet as wild raspberries but with a tang of disappointment.
How was it that after all this time she had the power to make him feel?
It must be some residual weakness after his ordeal in the wilderness.
‘Of course I’ve changed.’ He heard her long stride across the floor as she paced. ‘I’m not twenty-three any more. I’m my own woman, self-reliant, secure and capable.’
‘You were always self-reliant,’ he murmured. ‘You never needed anyone, did you, Poppy? Except on your own terms.’ He heard her hiss of breath. ‘You used people for what you could get. Is that still your style?’
‘You’re a fine one to talk! When did you ever give or share?’ Orsino heard her jagged breath and knew intense satisfaction that he wasn’t the only one feeling.
‘I remember giving all the time.’ He breathed deep. ‘Money, the prestige and connections you were so hungry for …’
Silence met his accusation. He waited, but she didn’t break it.
So, in one thing at least she’d changed. Once she’d been ruled by passion, as impetuous in her defence as in everything else. Now she knew when to give up. What was the point arguing the unwinnable?
Orsino frowned, fighting a disappointment he couldn’t explain.
‘Obviously you don’t want me here.’ Her voice sounded guarded and, if he hadn’t known it impossible, defeated. ‘The hospital made a mistake contacting me.’
He shook his head, wishing yet again that he could see her face. The strength of his need to see her stunned him.
‘No mistake. But they were a little too prompt. You’re not needed quite yet.’
‘Needed? You don’t need me.’
Orsino heard the shock in her voice and didn’t bother hiding his smile. Maybe it was shallow of him but after all this time, after what she’d done, it felt good to have her exactly where he wanted her.
‘But when I leave hospital I will. Who else should look after me as I recuperate but my wife?’
CHAPTER TWO
‘WIFE?’ POPPY’S VOICE ROSE. ‘You’re kidding!’
But looking at his satisfied smile she had a dreadful feeling Orsino wasn’t joking. There were new lines around his mouth, grim lines that hadn’t been there when she’d known him. They spoke of rock-hard determination. And pain.
She blinked as her heart squeezed. How bad were his injuries? He still hadn’t told her. Those bandaged eyes …
Poppy pulled herself up. Did she seriously think she could read Orsino when so much of his face was swathed in bandages?
He was a stranger now. He’d severed any connection.
‘Why should I kid?’
It was there in his voice now, that smugness. As if he enjoyed her reaction, knowing her discomfort. The realisation made her shiver.
Orsino had been hard, unreasonable and unforgiving. But spinning out a painful situation hadn’t been his style. He’d preferred to walk away, leaving her bereft.
Had he changed?
‘Because I’m not your wife. You can’t want me nursing you.’
‘It won’t be full-time nursing. I expect to manage once the bandages come off.’ Was that a hint of doubt in his voice? But he was talking again, distracting her from the fleeting impression. ‘I’ll only need someone on hand to be sure. That’s where you come in.’