One Touch of Topaz by Iris Johansen

“Hell, the only reason he let me sit with you was because hehad to take an important transatlantic telephone call.”
    “Thank you. The nurse’s help will be wonderful.” She made a face. “I feel terribly untidy.”
    “You’ll feel better soon.” He opened the door. “I’ll see you later. Okay?”
    “Okay.”
    She watched the door swing shut behind him, then leaned back against the pillows with a sigh of relief. She felt incredibly weak, and it was difficult to sit upright. How stupid to become this helpless from a wound that was hardly more than a graze. But surely she would be perfectly well in a few days, and then she could think about going back to St. Pierre for Paco.
    A chill ran down her spine, and she firmly blocked out the fear that was sapping her willpower. It would have been so much better if the patrol had not shown up the previous night. Now she had to steel herself for the task all over again, and there was the additional problem of how she was to get backto St. Pierre. She definitely couldn’t let Fletch send her to Barbados. It would be twice as hard to return if Ricardo learned of her intentions.
    “Miss Barton?”
    She hadn’t heard the door open, but a small, heavyset woman in a white uniform stood in the doorway. A brilliant white smile illuminated the woman’s café-au-lait face. “I’m Sara London. I know exactly how nasty you feel. You just put yourself in my hands and I’ll make you feel one hundred percent okay in the next ten minutes.”
    The nurse was exuding such bouncy optimism that Samantha found herself returning her smile and permitting herself to relax. She had been surrounded by defeat and despair for so long that it was refreshing to be around a person who had confidence that she could change everything for the better.
    “That would be wonderful, Sara. Come in and let’s get started.”
    ________
    It wasn’t until Sara was almost finished with her transformation procedure that Samantha noticed the statues.
Her
statues, all five of the figures she had placed in Fletch’s backpack before they had left the caverns, were grouped on a small glass-topped table across the room.
    The brush moving through Samantha’s hair paused in mid-motion as Sara’s gaze followed Samantha’s across the room. “They’re real nice, aren’t they? Mr. Bronson said you’d like to have them here when you woke up. He arranged them on the table himself last night.”
    Warmth surged through Samantha. “That was thoughtful of him. It’s nice to have things familiar to you when you wake up in a strange place.” Then she regretfully shook her head. “But they aren’t mine any longer. Will you have someone take them to Mr. Bronson?”
    “No, she won’t.” Fletch stood in the doorway gazing at her. Samantha felt her heart leap with delight at the sight of him.He was dressed in white jeans and a fawn-colored sweatshirt that made his red hair glow flamelike in contrast. The room was suddenly brighter, charged with color and vitality.
    “You look a hell of a lot better than you did when I left a little while ago. How do you feel?”
    Samantha’s amused gaze met Sara’s. “One hundred percent okay, thank you. When can I get up?”
    “Tomorrow, but even then you’ll have to take it easy.” He came toward her, his gaze never leaving her face. “For a long time.”
    She shook her head. “I’ll give myself a few days to rest, but I’ll be perfectly able to function normally after that.” Her gaze returned to the statues across the room. “It was kind of you to have them put here, but you should take them to your room now.”
    “Oh, should I? As usual, you’re leaving me no choice in the matter. Do you have any other instructions for me?” His gaze shifted to Sara. “If you’ll excuse us, I think MissBarton and I have a few things to discuss privately.”
    Sara quickly gave Samantha the hairbrush. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.” She gave Fletch a tentative smile as