Summer Desserts

sink. “We wouldn’t want a scar on it. I’ll give you a prescription for some pain pills.”
    Summer set her jaw. “I won’t take them.”
    With a shrug, the doctor dried her hands. “Suit yourself. Oh, and you might try the Solomon Islands off New Guinea.” Whipping back the curtain, she strode out.
    “Quite a lady,” Summer muttered as Blake helped her off the table. “Terrific bedside manner. I can’t think why I don’t hire her as my personal physician.”
    The spunk was back, Blake thought with a grin, but kept a supportive arm around her waist. “She was exactly what youneeded. You didn’t need any more sympathy, or worry, than you were getting from me.”
    She frowned up at him as he led her into the parking lot. “When I bleed,” she corrected, “I need a great deal of sympathy and worry.”
    “What you need—” he kissed her forehead before opening the car door “—is a bed, a dark room and a few hours’ rest.”
    “I’m going back to work,” she corrected. “The kitchen’s probably chaos, and I have a long list of phone calls to make—as soon as you arrange to have a phone hooked up for me.”
    “You’re going home, to bed.”
    “I’ve stopped bleeding,” Summer reminded him. “And though I admit I’m a complete baby when it comes to blood and needles and doctors in white coats, that’s done now. I’m fine.”
    “You’re pale.” He stopped at a light and turned to her. It wasn’t entirely clear to him how he’d gotten through the last hour himself. “You arm’s certainly throbbing now, or soon will be. I make it a policy—whenever one of my staff faints on the job, they have the rest of the day off.”
    “Very liberal and humanitarian of you. I wouldn’t have fainted if I hadn’t looked.”
    “Home, Summer.”
    She sat up, folded her hands and took a deep breath. Her arm was throbbing, but she wouldn’t have admitted it now for anything. With the new ache, and annoyance, it was easy to forget that she’d clung to his hand a short time before. “Blake, I realize I’ve mentioned this before, but sometimes it doesn’t hurt to reiterate. I don’t take orders.”
    Silence reigned in the car for almost a full minute. Blake turned west, away from Cocharan House and toward Summer’s apartment building.
    “I’ll just take a cab,” she said lightly.
    “What you’ll take is a couple of aspirin, right before I draw the shades and tuck you into bed.”
    God, that sounded like heaven. Ignoring the image, she set her chin. “Just because I depended on you—a little—while that woman was plying her needle, doesn’t mean I need a keeper.”
    There was a way to convince her to do as he wanted. Blake considered it. Perhaps the direct way was the best way. “I don’t suppose you noticed how many stitches she put in your arm.”
    “No.” Summer looked out the window.
    “I did. I counted them as she sewed. Fifteen. You didn’t notice the size of the needle, either?”
    “No.” Pressing a hand to her stomach she glared at him. “Dirty pool, Blake.”
    “If it works…” Then he slipped a hand over hers. “A nap, Summer. I’ll stay with you if you like.”
    How was she supposed to deal with him when he went from being kind, to filthy, to gentle? How was she supposed to deal with herself when all she really wanted was to curl up beside him where she knew it would be safe and warm? “I’ll rest.” All at once, she felt she needed to, badly, but it no longer had anything to do with her arm. If he continually stirred her emotions like this, the next few months were going to be impossible. “Alone,” she finished firmly. “You have enough to do back at the hotel.”
    When he pulled up in front of her building, she put out ahand to stop him from turning off the engine. “No, you needn’t bother to come up. I’ll go to bed, I promise.” Because she could feel him tense with an objection, she smiled and squeezed his hand. I have to go up alone, she realized. If he came with her now, everything could change. “I’m going to take those aspirin, turn on the stereo and lie down. I’d feel better if you’d go by the kitchen and make certain everything’s all right there.”
    He studied her face. Her skin was pale, her eyes weary. He wanted to stay with her, have her hold onto him for support again. Even as he sat beside her, he could feel the distance she was putting between them. No, he wouldn’t allow that—but for now, she needed rest more than