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yself on madame’s mercy? There’s a couch in the lobby.’
‘The one in the corner?’ Gabrielle shook her head. ‘It was a love-seat, James. You’d never get any rest.’
He grimaced and rubbed his knee. ‘The hospital, then. It’s probably the only place in town with an available room. I suppose I can survive one night in Orthopedics.’
Gabrielle swallowed drily. ‘There’s—there’s another place.’
James grunted and shifted his leg. ‘Damn! I should have taken those tablets Nurse Ramrod was pushing.’
‘Does your knee hurt?’
He didn’t answer, but one look at him told her it had been a foolish question. His face was pale, his eyes closed, the lashes dark against his cheeks. Gabrielle bit down on her lip, and then she started the engine and pulled away from the kerb.
‘Where to?’ James murmured. He sighed and looked at her. ‘If the next place looks like the last, I’d just as soon pass.’
She smiled. ‘I guarantee it’s much nicer, and I know for a fact there’s a room.’
‘The woman’s hallucinating,’ he said with a groan. ‘Have you been hitting Nurse Ramrod’s pills?’
Gabrielle laughed. ‘I’m perfectly sober, James.’ She slowed the car as they approached a red light and smiled at him. ‘Remember the other night when you dined chez Gabrielle? ‘
James sighed. ‘The woman’s not only sober, she’s starved. Forgive me—I forgot all about dinner. Look, why don’t you stop somewhere and let me buy us a meal? Then you can drive me back to—to…’
‘To where? We’ve tried every place in the city.’
He shrugged. ‘I told you. To my hotel. Or to the hospital. Don’t worry about me—I’ll think of something.’ ‘I already have.’
She drew a deep breath as the light changed and she eased the car forward. ‘I don’t have any steaks, but I do have eggs and bacon.’
‘I told you, you’ve done more than enough. I’m not going to let you make dinner, too.’
Gabrielle lifted her chin. ‘You’re not only dining chez Gabrielle, you’re going to stay there.’
James stared at her. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Look, there’s not a hotel room within a hundred miles of New Orleans. I have an extra bedroom, right on the main level, and there’s a bath just off the kitchen.’
He shook his head. ‘No, I couldn’t impose. I ’
‘You wouldn’t be imposing. I—I’ve been uncomfortable lately; the carriage house is old, you know, and at night it squeaks and moans and…’ She cleared her throat. ‘You’d be doing me a favour, when you come down to it.’
‘That’s quite an about-face,’ he said slowly. ‘First you spend the day avoiding me, and now you invite me to move in with you.’ A slow grin creased the comers of his eyes. ‘Not that I’d mind, of course, if that’s what you want.’
Gabrielle hesitated. Was it what she wanted? Only hours ago, she’d had a list of good reasons for never seeing James Forrester again, and now she was offering to share her home with him.
‘Yes,’ she said quickly. ‘Yes, I’m sure. It’s—it’s what I want.’
James laughed softly. ‘Well, then, how can I possibly refuse?’
There was something in his laugh, in the silky tone of his voice, that made her breath catch. She looked across the car at him. Was it the light, or had some of the weariness fled his face? He moved in the seat, and for a second it seemed that even his leg was more mobile.
Gabrielle looked away from him. No. That was impossible. He’d been in an automobile accident. There was no way you could exaggerate that. And she was doing the only decent thing. She was giving him a room. It was the least she could do for a man who’d done so much for her.
It was nothing but a humanitarian gesture. And it was harmless—wasn’t it?
She felt her pulse begin to beat in her temple, like the throb of a distant drum. Was it apprehension or was it excitement? she wondered.
He reached across the console and covered her hand with his, and the change in tempo of her heart was all the answer she needed.
CHAPTER SIX
‘I hope you don’t mind sharing quarters with all these boxes,’ Gabrielle said as she switched on the light in the little room down the hall from the kitchen. ‘I never did get around to unpacking everything after I moved in.’
James leaned his crutches against a maple dresser, then hopped to the narrow brass bed tucked against the wall and sank down on it.
‘The room’s fine,’ he said with a tired smile. ‘Tonight, I don’t think I’d mind sharing quarters with a Marine battalion.’
Gabrielle smiled as she opened the wardrobe. ‘The worst you might have to put up with are one or two mice,’ she said, tugging blankets and pillows from the shelf. ‘The house must have been empty quite a while before I moved in. I’ve gotten rid of just about all of them, but every once in a while a straggler turns up.’
‘Just as long as they don’t snore, I won’t say a word.’
‘Now,’ she said, dropping the linens on the foot of the bed, ‘what would you like for supper? Soup? Crackers…’ Her questions trailed off as she looked at James. He was sitting with his head back against the wall, his eyes closed. In the unyielding light of the ceiling fixture, his exhaustion was easy to see, and she wondered how she’d ever, even for a moment, doubted it. ‘James?’ she said softly. ‘Are you all right?’
He opened his eyes and nodded. ‘Fine. I’m just a little tired.’ He winced as he straightened his leg. ‘All I need is some rest and I’ll be good as new.’
‘Won’t you let me fill the prescription the hospital gave you?’
‘No,’ he said, sitting forward and gently rubbing his bandaged knee. ‘There’s no need. I told you, I’ve gone-this route before.’
‘Yes, but it would ease the pain.’
‘The prescription’s for a narcotic.’ His voice was suddenly sharp. ‘Something that dulls your reflexes and puts you to sleep.’
Gabrielle smiled a little. ‘And what a terrible thing that would be if someone’s hurting,’ she said gently.
James’s eyes met hers. ‘Chalk it off to male ego,’ he said after a pause. ‘OK?’
‘How about food? Does this ego of yours extend to that, too, or shall I make you something to eat?’
He grinned. ‘I was hoping you’d ask.’
‘What would you like? Soup? Bacon and eggs? Toast? Jam?’
James laughed. ‘All of that, and a gallon of coffee besides.’
‘And two aspirin. Don’t say “no”,’ she warned when he began to shake his head. ‘If you do, I’ll take you back to St Francis and turn you over to Nurse Ramrod.’
‘I surrender,’ he said, laughing as he held up his hands. ‘You wouldn’t believe the terrible things that woman threatened me with. I had to promise her you were a cross between Florence Nightingale and the Good Fairy.’
‘You played a risky game, didn’t you? I mean, you weren’t even sure I’d come.’
‘Once they said they’d called you, I never doubted you would.’
His gaze moved over her face, intimate as a caress. Gabrielle’s pulse leaped in unexpected response, and she turned away from him.
‘Soup will be on in ten minutes,’ she said, and before he could answer she stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her.
She leaned against it and drew a deep breath. She felt drained—all her energies had gone into the past few minutes, into smiling and talking with a casual indifference, as if the realization that she’d really brought James to stay with her hadn’t sent a sudden shock through all her senses.
Not that she hadn’t known what she was doing when she’d asked him to stay at the carriage house—it was just that the reality had been different from how she’d imagined it.
It had been almost overpowering: stepping into the dark foyer with James behind her had been like walking into another dimension, one in which there was no sound louder than her own suddenly erra
tic heartbeat.
James had felt it, too. She knew it, even though he hadn’t spoken. She’d heard it in his quickly indrawn breath, felt it in the tension instantly flowing between them with the potency of a force field.
She’d pushed by him and hurried through the main level of the carriage house, throwing on all the lights, chattering brightly about the spare room, apologising for its condition, and all the time she’d been almost painfully aware of James’s nearness and the way he seemed to fill the little house with his presence.
Now, as she switched on the kitchen light, she felt almost light-headed. Well, why wouldn’t she? She hadn’t eaten anything in hours. And James wasn’t the only one who needed aspirin: her head felt as if someone had tied a tourniquet around it.
She got down the bottle of aspirin, shook two tablets into her hand, and gulped them down with a swallow of water. Two more for James—no, three, and she wouldn’t brook any arguments. He had this ridiculous male thing about taking medicines—her father had bean the same, until the pain got too strong—but he’d either take the three tablets or she’d force them down his throat.
Gabrielle laughed softly as she opened the fridge door and peered inside. That was a thought, wasn’t it? James was al lean muscle; she’d be helpless against him. His strength had frightened her when he’d come barging through the door last night.
Last night. How could that be? How could things have turned upside-down so fast? This morning, she’d vowed never to see him again, and now, instead of fearing him, she—she what?
Stop that. Concentrate on making supper. That’s it. That’s the way.
Her hands shook as she took a loaf of bread from the fridge. There were only a few slices, barely enough for two. The egg carton was almost empty—well, James could have the three that were left. At least there was half a pound of bacon. She made a face as she carefully plucked away the discoloured top slice and tossed it into the dustbin.
The cupboard was no more promising. A couple of tins of soup, a half-box of crackers—stale, probably. At least there was coffee and sugar, although if James liked cream with his coffee he was out of luck.
