Free One Touch of Topaz by Iris Johansen Page B

throat. Then he saw the faint movement at her temple, and relief pounded through him. She was still alive. “She thinks she’s a coward. She was so afraid …” Fletch roused himself and begun to unbutton Samantha’s bloodstained shirt. “Get me that first-aid kit under the seat, then radio Damon’s Reef and tell them I want a surgeon and a nurse when we land at the heliport.”
    The shirt was unbuttoned, but he hesitated, his teeth clenched with tension and fear, creating a cold knot in his stomach.
    He slowly opened Samantha’s bloodstained shirt to examine the wound.

FIVE
    T HE FIRST OBJECT that came into focus when Samantha opened her eyes was the baseball cap. The red, sun-faded hat was perched with casual impudence on the rumpled sandy hair of Skip Brennen. He was older than he had looked in the shadowy lights of the helicopter’s control panel, she thought hazily. Brennen must be somewhere in his mid-thirties, though his square, blocky physique and lack of height made him appear much younger. Freckles covered his face in such profusion, they looked like a tanand formed a solid background for the light blue eyes that were now gazing down at her quizzically. “Hi, I’m Skip Brennen. I won’t be hurt if you don’t remember me. You were pretty busy the one time we introduced ourselves.”
    “I remember you …” Her eyes widened as she came to full alertness. “Is Fletch—”
    “Fletch is fine. You were the only one who was wounded.”
    She relaxed. “That’s good.”
    “Not according to Fletch.” Skip grimaced. “He’s been giving us hell for the last twenty-four hours. First he was sure you were dying. Then when he found you only had a graze across your rib cage, he couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t wake up.”
    “I don’t understand, either.” She struggled to a sitting position, flinching as a hot pain streaked through her left side. She shook her head in wonder. Twenty-four hours. She gazed around the light, airy room. This was definitely not a hospital room. Everything around her spoke of the casual elegance thatonly money and a skilled interior decorator could produce. The room was lovely, summery with its white wicker furniture, the green-leaf print on the white curtains at the large picture windows, the plush luxury of the emerald-green carpet. “Where am I?”
    “Damon’s Reef. Fletch didn’t want you moved any farther until you regained consciousness.”
    “Moved?” One hand threaded nervously through her hair. “Oh, yes, of course. He’ll want to send me to Barbados as soon as I’m able to travel.”
    Skip shook his head. “Somehow I don’t think that’s what he has in mind.” He grinned down at her. “But I’ll let you find out for yourself from Fletch. He told me to let him know the minute you woke up. Do you think you’re in good enough shape to face him yet?”
    She looked at him in surprise. “Of course. Why shouldn’t I be?”
    “Well, most people find Fletch a bit overpowering.” He tapped his chest. “Yourstruly included. I wouldn’t want to face him in a weakened condition.”
    She frowned. “I don’t know why you say that. Fletch is really very kind.”
    “Kind? I don’t believe I’ve ever heard Fletch referred to in that way.”
    “No, truly. He appears all prickly on the outside, but he does want what’s best for people. He just gets crotchety when people don’t agree with him about what’s best for them.”
    He burst out laughing. “Crotchety? I love it.” He turned away. “I’ve got to remember to tell Fletch that he’s only being ‘crotchety’ when he decides to smash his next competitor into the dust.” There was still a lingering smile on his face as he glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll send in your nurse to wash your face and help you brush your teeth.” He waved his hand vaguely. “And all that. Fletch didn’t want you to wake up to a strange face, so he relegated her to a chair in the hall.” He shook his head.