* * *
Rick had thought a lot about Fleur in the last couple of days. How his heart beat a little faster every time he saw her. How she reminded him just how much he missed caring about a woman.
He’d decided to back off for a little while. Let her get to grips with the new physiotherapy regime, and see whether the extra exercise improved her state of mind. Taking her back to town seemed like a bad idea, until he’d got to the bottom of the incident in Brady’s bakery.
But the smile she gave him when he walked into her room, two days after their visit to town, was no less vacant than the one she’d given him yesterday. It served only to register the fact that he was in the room, and owed nothing to how she might be feeling. Fleur seemed to have slipped back into her ennui.
He sat down in the chair next to her bed, and she regarded him steadily. All the life seemed to have drained from her lovely eyes.
“I’d like to apologize.”
One eyebrow arched a little. “Would you? What for?”
“The...incident in the bakery.”
“That wasn’t your fault.” Clearly, Fleur had ruled out the possibility of either forgiving him or not, in favor of considering him not important enough to matter. Rick swallowed down the temptation to make her notice him.
“Would you like to tell me about it? Is that why you want to leave the island so badly?”
She narrowed her eyes. “What’s this? You’re my therapist now?”
“I’m your doctor. My job is to address your physical issues, but if there are emotional issues getting in the way of your recovery, then I’m qualified to address them as well. Most people who’ve experienced life-changing injuries like yours have a combination of obstacles to face.”
“Okay. So my career is finished. It’s been nearly four months, and I still wake up in the night, feeling that I’m falling. Is that what you want to hear?”
Rick shook his head. “That’s too easy, Fleur. There’s something you won’t admit to and it’s eating away at you. More to the point, it’s stopping you from getting the best out of the rehabilitation therapies that are available to you here.”
She thought for a moment. “Aren’t you meant to listen to what I have to say, and take it from there? Help me to work it out for myself.”
“Yes, that’s the general idea. But it also helps if you’re honest with me.”
She didn’t answer. Rick leaned back in his seat.
“I can wait.”
She let him sit there for a couple of minutes and then glared at him. “Don’t you have any other patients to go and bother?”
“Yes. If you can hold out all morning, you might be doing them a favor.” He didn’t move.
Another two minutes of silence. Then Fleur reached for the TV remote and turned the sound back on.
Rick was just getting into the plot of the morning soap opera when she spoke again. “You’re really going to do this, aren’t you?”
“What made you think I wouldn’t?”
She puffed out a breath, rolling her eyes. Something prickled at the back of Rick’s neck.
“Okay...” She grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. “Okay. What do I have to do to get you to leave?”
“Just tell me why you’re so dead set on waiting your time out and getting back to Boston as soon as you possibly can. You have family and friends here, and the clinic’s the best there is. Is there something in Boston...?”
Someone? The thought hadn’t occurred to Rick before, and he should have considered it. Why did it make his stomach churn with disappointment?
Fleur shook her head slowly. “You haven’t asked around? I’m sure you could find plenty of different opinions to choose from.”
“I’m asking you. I don’t care what anyone else says.”
That seemed to be the right answer. Fleur had been pulling at the edge of the patchwork quilt that covered her legs, and suddenly she looked up, meeting his gaze.