Bought for His Bed. Kate Hardy

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Bought for His Bed - Kate Hardy


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and, although she was blue around the lips, her breathing was already stabilising.

      Luke said briefly, ‘Good girl.’ He turned his head to the shore. ‘Where the hell is the boat?’

      The sound of the engines warned them of its imminent arrival. It came roaring up, stopping rather suddenly when Luke held up his hand in a command that couldn’t be ignored.

      ‘All right?’ he asked Fleur.

      She nodded. ‘The West Coast Beaches junior lifesavers would be proud of me,’ she said lightly, because the woman in her arms was choking back tears.

      Luke smiled. ‘I’m proud of you,’ he said, and swam to the idling dinghy, hauling himself over the side with a whoosh that nearly capsized it.

      He brought it carefully up to the two of them in the water, where he and one of the crew from the yacht helped the coughing woman into it. Then Luke bent over and hauled Fleur up, holding her for a spectacular second against his sleek, lean body.

      ‘Are you all right?’ he demanded, studying her face with half-closed, searching eyes. ‘No after-effects? No exhaustion?’

      Surprised, she said, ‘No. No, I feel fine. Just a bit puffed, but I haven’t been swimming recently.’

      And because her body was reacting very oddly to being held in a close embrace, she said, ‘Truly, I’m fine. I’ve fully recovered from my faint.’

      ‘Collapse. Good, let’s get ashore,’ he said, releasing her after a swift, hard hug.

      Back on the beach, the other guests had gathered in a knot just above the wave line.

      ‘We’ll use one of the loungers as a stretcher to carry her up to the house,’ Luke said. He nodded at Fleur. ‘We’ll need you.’

      The house was small and sparsely furnished, clearly used only for holidays. The four men who’d carried the still weeping woman up set the lounger down carefully in the shade of the terrace and stood around a bit awkwardly.

      Addressing one of them, Fleur asked, ‘Can you find and bring up her clothes, please?’ She looked at the rest of the men and said firmly, ‘Thank you so much. I’ll come down and let you know when she’s ready to have visitors.’

      They left, and the woman said between sobs, ‘I don’t know why I’m crying!’

      ‘Because you’re in shock,’ Fleur said robustly. ‘I’ve been there—I know what it’s like. What you need is a warm shower—’

      ‘Some brandy first,’ Luke said, appearing from the house with a small glass. He gave Fleur a swift, challenging grin that curled her toes, then held out the glass to the woman. ‘Here, Ms Baxter, drink it down even if you hate it.’

      ‘I do hate it,’ she said, ‘but I certainly need something!’ She drained it, shuddered, and then lay back on the lounger. ‘Stupid,’ she said wearily, and shivered again. ‘I really thought I was going to drown—I swam out to look at the coral and I got cramps in both legs. I’ve never had it before.’

      ‘How do you feel now?’ Fleur asked.

      ‘Better. I only went under twice—Luke dragged me up from the second time. I might have made it up again, but I don’t think so. I didn’t think anyone had seen me, and I knew the waves on the reef made it impossible for anyone to hear me.’

      ‘Fleur saw you,’ Luke said. ‘I’ve just checked with the hospital on the mainland, and they agree that you should be seen as soon as possible, so a chopper is on its way.’ He ignored her instant objection. ‘Sorry, but that’s island policy after an incident like this. There’s a risk of serious complication later unless proper medical care is given.’ He smiled at her woebegone face. ‘I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you, but a night in hospital will reassure all of us that you’re fine.’

      His smile seemed to work its usual magic. ‘I feel so stupid,’ the patient said weakly, lying back and closing her eyes.

      ‘Cramps can happen to anyone,’ Fleur said. She smiled down at the woman. ‘Would you like me to come with you?’

      ‘I—no,’ the woman said, her voice fading. ‘You’re needed here.’

      Luke said easily, ‘I’ll manage without her.’

      ‘I’ll just get our bags,’ Fleur said. ‘I refuse to go for my first helicopter flight in a bikini.’

      His eyes kindled, but he turned and called to one of the staff, his voice sharper than normal.

      When the chopper arrived, he said, ‘Thank you for this. I’ve arranged with my PA to attend to all the paperwork, but Sue Baxter is still shocked, and I think she’d like to have you with her at least until she’s seen a doctor.’

      ‘I’ll be fine,’ she said briskly. ‘You can’t go, and no one else has offered.’ Besides, she knew what it was like to wake up in a strange place and wonder where she was and what had happened.

      ‘She’s a senior executive from one of the big Australian companies. Unfortunately she’s here on her own,’ he told her. ‘Her company’s been notified.’

      To her astonishment he bent and kissed her, his arms tightening around her and his mouth taking hers in a dominant stamp of possession.

      Flushed and breathless, Fleur hustled into the chopper, and as it rose saw the reason for his final embrace—a woman was watching the chopper pad. Prudence of the hungry eyes and determined mouth. Fleur wondered bleakly if she’d try more of her wiles on Luke.

      Chapter Six

      SOME hours later Fleur’s attention was attracted by a nurse who appeared in the doorway of the private room waving a mobile phone.

      Startled, Fleur raised her brows and pointed to her chest. The nurse nodded vigorously. It had to be Luke. Her mouth suddenly dry, Fleur got up from her seat beside the sleeping woman’s bed and went across to the door.

      ‘Mr Luke Chapman,’ the nurse mouthed, and sighed as she held out the phone.

      Handling it rather as if it were a snake, Fleur said into the mouthpiece, ‘Hello?’

      ‘Ah, Fleur.’ His voice was impersonal, he could have been talking to his PA, but her heart performed an odd revolution before pumping at a much faster pace. ‘How is Ms Baxter?’

      ‘She’s sleeping now. The tests didn’t show any damage, and there’s no sign of complications, but the doctors want her to stay in overnight.’ Her voice sounded weird, almost croaky, and her pulse picked up even more speed.

      ‘I suspected they would. The chopper’s on stand-by if you want to come back.’

      So this was how the very rich lived—every available aid waiting for them. She glanced at her watch. ‘You’re leaving for home in an hour or so, aren’t you?’ she asked. ‘It doesn’t seem worth it.’

      ‘I’ll collect you myself, then. Don’t leave the hospital until I come.’

      He spoke perfectly normally, yet a barely discernible undertone in his voice lifted the hair on her skin. ‘Why?’

      After a pause so slight she wondered if she’d imagined it, he told her, ‘Because the last time you were let out on your own you collapsed. Humour me, all right?’

      Fleur swallowed. ‘OK,’ she said tautly. ‘I’ll stay put.’

      ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘See you soon.’

      Fleur switched off the phone and went to the door, noticing for the first time the tall islander standing on the other side of the corridor. He smiled respectfully, and she realised with a jolt that he was security of some sort. She smiled back and set off to the nurses’ station with the telephone.

      ‘All right?’ the nurse


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