The Perfect Blend Read Online Free PDF Page B

liability?”
    The laugh escapes. “I’ll let you know, but it seems you already know the material.” He puts the car in gear, but stops for a moment to dab at my forehead. “Miss Black, I am truly sorry about this.”
    I’m momentarily astounded by the tenderness in his touch. I didn’t expect that. I blink at him for a stunned second, until I notice he has a large blotch of red on the corner of his shirt. “Maggie,” I reply, working hard to make the M sound like an M andnot a B. “I’ve bled all over you, you might as well call me Maggie.”
    â€œI’m Will,” he says. You’d think I’d be in too much pain to notice the indescribable something that changes in his voice and in his eyes. “And the shirt will wash.” He pulls out of the parking lot with a cautious turn. “Now let’s get you taken care of.”

Chapter Six
    The art of lumps and gauze
    â€œM AGS !” Diane lets every ounce of her alarm play out in her voice. Who needs a mirror when your best friend gives your new stitches a response like that?
    Will guides me to the couch as if the removal of his arm might mean my instantaneous death. Gallant and guilty make a great combination—I haven’t been this fawned over since my sixteenth birthday when, instead of going to my party, I had to have my appendix removed.
    I lean my head back against the sofa while Will hands off pills, ice bags and other medical goodies to Diane. He’s issuing orders, actually; as he places each item in Diane’s hands, he spouts off the precise directions I heard earlier from the E.R. doctor. I don’t bother telling him Diane’s a nurse—this sceneis far too amusing and I could really use the distraction. My head feels as though it’s been filled with a delightful combination of cement and exploding firecrackers. Diane shoots me a wink while Will puts the four ice bags he bought me at the hospital pharmacy into my freezer. Four. Really. Do I look that bad?
    All this attention is flattering to a point, but I swear the man’s blood pressure has gone up forty percent. He actually yelled at the triage nurse because he thought I wasn’t being seen fast enough. Come on—fifty minutes in an urban E.R. is actually rather speedy for your basic nonlethal injury. I attempt assurance. “I’m going to be fine, Will.”
    â€œNo, you won’t,” Will replies, looking at me like I’m…like I’m…well, maybe I don’t want to finish that sentence. Disfigured for life comes to mind. He’s peering at me analytically. “If that bleeding starts up again…”
    â€œDiane’s a nurse, you know,” I confess, because I’ve decided I hurt too much to be entertained. “I’m in expert hands here. She’s going to spend the night and everything.” The really strong painkillers they gave me at the hospital are starting to wear off and I want my new prescriptions now but don’t want to try stuffing a pill into this face with him watching.
    â€œYou’re sure you’ll be all right?” he says, sounding doubtful. “You don’t need anything?”
    I need to change into pajamas, to choke down my pain pills and to curl up in a ball. I can’t do that with you watching, your lordship. “Fibe.” I say, relapsing into swollen-face speech for his benefit. “I’m tired and I just need sleeb and bills.”
    â€œPardon?”
    â€œSleep and pills,” Diane says, taking his elbow and pulling him toward my kitchen. “She needs to take her medication and sleep everything off. Will, you said your name was, right?”
    â€œWilliam Grey”
    The third, my brain adds through the fog.
    â€œYes, well, the third, but I hardly see how that’s relevant at the moment.”
    Aw, I didn’t say that out loud, did I? Pills, where are those pills?
    â€œOkay, William