Twelve Across Read Online Free PDF

long she stood-there without moving, nor did she care. Garrick had offered plenty of hot water, and despite the fact that she d never been one to be selfish or greedy, she planned to take advantage of every drop. These were extenuating circumstances, she reasoned. After the ordeal she d been through, her body deserved a little pampering.

    Moreover, standing under the shower was as much of a limbo as the highway driving had been earlier. She knew that once she emerged, she was going to have to face a future that was as mucked up as her clothes.
    She wasn't looking forward to it.
    Gradually the numbness in her hands and feet wore off. Slowly, and with distaste, she began to strip off her things. When every last item lay in a pile in a corner of the stall, she went to work with soap and shampoo, lathering, rinsing, lathering, rinsing, continuing the process far longer than was necessary, almost obsessive in her need to rid herself of the mud that was synonymous with terror.
    By the time she turned off the water, the ache in her limbs had given way to a pervasive tiredness. More than anything at that moment she craved a soft chair, if not a sofa or, bqtter yet, a bed. But there was work to be done first. Emerging from the shower, she wrapped one towel around her hair, then began to dry herself with another. When she inadvertently ran the towel over her thigh, she gasped. Fumbling for her glasses, she rinsed and dried them, then shakily fit them onto her nose.
    She almost wished she hadn't. Her outer thigh bore a deep, three-inch gash that was ugly enough to make her stomach turn. Straightening, she closed her eyes, pressed a hand to her middle and took several deep breaths. Then, postponing another look for as long as possible, she reached for the clothes Garrick had left.
    Beggars couldn't be choosers, which was why she thought no evil of the gray thermal top she pulled on and the green flannel shirt she layered over it.
    The thercnal top hit her upper thigh; the shirt was even longer. The warmth of both was welcome.
    Tucking the tails beneath her, she lowered herself to the closed commode.
    Working quickly, lest she lose her nerve, she opened the bottle of disinfectant, poured a liberal amount on a corner of the towel and pressed it firmly to the gash.
    White-hot pain shot through her leg. Crying aloud, she tore the towel away.
    At the same time, her other hand went boneless, releasing its grip on the bottle, which fell to the floor and shattered.
    Garrick, who'd been standing pensively before the fire, jerked up his head when he heard her cry. Within seconds he d crossed the floor and burst into the bathroom.

    I. eah's hands were fisted on her knees, and she was mcking back and forth, waiting for the stinging in her leg to subside. Her gaze flew to his. "I didn't think it would hurt so much, " she whispered.
    His grip tightened on the doorknob, and for a split second he considered retreating. It had been more than four years since he d seen legs like those-long and slender, living silk the color of cream. His eyes were riveted to them, while his heart yawed. He told himself to turn and run until he caught sight of the red gouge marring that silk and knew he wasn't going anywhere.
    Squatting before her, he took the towel from where it lay across her lap and dabbed at the area around the cut. The color of the antiseptic was distinct on the corner of the towel she'd used. He reversed the terry cloth and flicked her a glance.
    "Hold on: ' With a gentle dabbing motion, he applied whatever disinfectant was left on the towel to her cut. She sucked in her breath and splayed one hand tightly over the top of her thigh to hold it still.
    Even then her leg was shaking badly by the time Garrick reached for the bandages.
    "I can do it, " she breathed. Beads of sweat had broken out on her nose, causing her glasses to slip. Her fingers trembled when she shoved them up, but she was feeling foolish about the broken bottle and needed