Treasures Lost, Treasures Found

even though with the drug out of her system she was well aware of the wound. It was dark, but the moonlight slipped around the edges of the shades Ky had drawn. She was grateful for that too. It seemed she’d been a prisoner of the dark for too long.
    It was night. She prayed it was only hours after she’d last awoken, not another full day later. She didn’t want that quick panic at the thought of losing time again. Because she needed to be certain she was in control this time, she went over everything she remembered.
    The pottery bowl, the ladle, then the stingray. She closed her eyes a moment, knowing it would be a very long time before she forgot what it had felt like to be struck with that whiplike tail. She remembered waking up on the deck of the Vortex, the pure blue sky overhead, and the strong, calm way Ky had spoken to her before he’d pulled out the spine. That pain, the horror of that one instant was very clear. Then, there was nothing else.
    She remembered nothing of the journey back to the island, or of Dr. Bailey’s ministrations or of being transported to Ky’s home. Her next clear image was of waking in his bedroom, of dark oak trim on the windows, wide sills with shells set on them.
    He’d fed her soup—yes, that was clear, but then things started to become hazy again. She knew he’d been angry, though she couldn’t remember why. At the moment, it was more important to her that she could put events in some sort of sequence.
    As she lay in the dark, fully awake and finally aware, she heard the sound of quiet, steady breathing beside her. Turning her head, Kate saw Ky beside her, hardly morethan a silhouette with the moonlight just touching the skin of his chest so that she could see it rise and fall.
    He’d said he would stay, she remembered. And he’d been tired. Abruptly Kate remembered there’d been fatigue in his eyes as well as temper. He’d been caring for her.
    A mellow warmth moved through her, one she hadn’t felt in a very long time. He had taken care of her, and though it had made him angry, he’d done it. And he’d stayed. Reaching out, she touched his cheek.
    Though the gesture was whisper light, Ky awoke immediately. His sleep had been little more than a half doze so that he could recharge his system yet be aware of any sign that Kate needed attention. Sitting up, he shook his head to clear it.
    He looked like a boy caught napping. For some reason the gesture moved Kate unbearably. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she murmured.
    He reached for the lamp beside the bed and turned it on low. Though his body revolted against the interruption, his mind was fully awake. “Pain?”
    “No.”
    He studied her face carefully. The glazed look from the drug had left her eyes, but the color hadn’t returned. “Kate.”
    “All right. Some.”
    “Bailey left some pills.”
    As he started to rise, Kate reached for him again. “No, I don’t want anything. It makes me groggy.”
    “It takes away the pain.”
    “Not now, Ky, please. I promise I’ll tell you if it gets bad.”
    Because her voice was close to desperate he made himself content with that. At the moment, she looked too fragile to argue with. “Are you hungry?”
    She smiled, shaking her head. “No. It must be the middle of the night. I was only trying to orient myself.” She touched him again, in gratitude, in comfort. “You should sleep.”
    “I’ve had enough. Anyway, you’re the patient.”
    Automatically, he put his hand to her forehead to check for fever. Touched, Kate laid hers over it. She felt the quick reflexive tensing of his fingers.
    “Thank you.” When he would have removed his hand, she linked her fingers with his. “You’ve been taking good care of me.”
    “You needed it,” he said simply and much too swiftly. He couldn’t allow her to stir him now, not when they were in that big, soft bed surrounded by memories.
    “You haven’t left me since it happened.”
    “I had no place to go.”
    His answer made her smile. Kate reached up her free hand to touch his cheek. There had been changes, she thought, many changes. But so many things had stayed the same. “You were angry with me.”
    “You haven’t been taking care of yourself.” He told himself he should move away from the bed, from Kate, from everything that weakened him there.
    He stayed, leaning over her, one hand caught in hers. Her eyes were dark, soft in the dim light, full of the sweetness and innocence he remembered. He