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I felt the way he used the washcloth to trace the lines in my shoulders, around, over my collarbone, and back behind my neck again. Moments later I also felt his breath against me, and when I gazed at the mirror across from us, saw that his eyes were closed and he was holding his head as though he were inhaling me. A chill of terror rushed through me.

"Tony," I said, putting my hand over his and the washcloth, "I can finish up now. Thank you."

"What? Oh yes, yes." He stood up quickly. "I'll lay a towel over your wheelchair seat," he said, and did it. "Are you finished?"

"Yes, but you're going to get all wet."

"Don't worry about me. I've been all wet before," he kidded, and reached into the water to scoop his arms under me again. Then he lifted me gingerly out of the tub and set me down on the chair. Quickly, I wrapped the towels about myself. Tony seized another towel and began wiping my legs.

"I can do that, Tony."

"Nonsense. Why exhaust yourself when I'm around to help?" He went on, massaging my calves and working his way up over my knees, wiping my skin with an artist's care. He squatted and raised his eyes slowly to confront my gaze. "When I see you here like this, I can think only of your grandmother Leigh."

"Why do you say that, Tony?"

"The way you look--young, innocent, so soft, and your hair ."

I was beginning to regret agreeing to the change of color. Perhaps because of it, Tony often didn't see me when he looked at me.

"I'd better get dressed, Tony," I said.

"Yes, of course." He stood up and wheeled me out of the bathroom to the bed, where he had laid out the blue cotton dress. "I'll help you," he said, and moved quickly to get me a pair of panties and a bra. He squatted before me again.

"I can do this, Tony." I reached for my panties, but he simply lifted my feet and slipped the undergarment over my ankles, moving it up my legs slowly, his gaze fixed, his fingers never touching my skin. When he reached my thighs, he stopped and came around behind me. There was no stopping him. Using his forearms, he lifted me just enough to pull the panties into place. I closed my eyes to deny what was happening. He started to unwrap the towel.

"Tony, please, let me do this."

"I'll just assist," he insisted, and brought my bra around. I shoved my arms through quickly, but when I started to fasten it, his hands moved over mine and quickly took over. "And now for the finish," he announced, and came around to the front with the dress.

"Tony, I don't think this dress--"

"Just lift your arms. It'll be easy."

Reluctantly, realizing it was the easiest way to bring all this to an end, I lifted my arms and let him bring the dress down over my head. He lifted and adjusted my body so he could pull the dress on completely, and then he stood back.

"See? Nothing to any of it. I'll be here every morning to help you, Annie."

"Every morning? But surely we'll have another nurse by tomorrow."

"I hope so, but I'm going to be a great deal more careful about whom I hire now. We don't want another Mrs. Broadfield, do we?" He smiled and then clapped his hands. "Now let me see about your breakfast," he added, and hurried out of the room, energized by all he had done and all he had to do.

In minutes he reappeared carrying my breakfast tray.

"I hope you're hungry this morning," he said, stepping b

ack.

"Yes. I'm famished." I hoped that was another sign of my recovery.

"I'll just get dressed while you eat," he finally said, and left.

When he returned, he looked quite untidy, much like the way he had appeared in Drake's letter-- his hair disheveled, his tie loose, and the tie itself stained. His suit jacket and pants were quite creased, It was as though he had put on an old set of clothes.

"Good morning," he said, as if this were the first time he had seen me this morning. I just stared in amazement, but he didn't seem to notice. He didn't look at me long. Instead he stood rocking on his feet, peering out the window, his hands behind his back. He ran his tongue over his lips, popped his cheeks in and out and nodded. Once again I had the sense he was moving in and out of reality, traveling back and forth between the past and the present. Truly he was beginning to alarm me.

"I feel a lot stronger this morning, Tony," I said, eager to get things back on track so I could contact Luke. "Maybe you will take me on my outing after all,"

He spoke, but it wasn't in response to what I was saying. He acted like a man hearing another conversation.


Tags: V.C. Andrews Casteel Horror