Free Come Lie With Me by Linda Howard

position on the concrete. “I can see how much you appreciate the finer things in life,” she said lightly.
    â€œIf you insist on getting me up at midnight, naturally I’m hungry by the time dawn rolls around! Am I getting the same slop today that I had yesterday morning?”
    â€œYou are,” she said serenely. “A nutritious, high-protein breakfast, just what you need to put weight on you.”
    â€œWhich you then try your damnedest to beat off of me,” he retorted.
    She laughed at him, enjoying their running argument. “You just wait,” she promised. “By this time next week you’re going to think that yesterday was nothing!”

Chapter Four
    D ione lay awake, watching the patterns of light that the new moon was casting on the white ceiling. Richard had worked miracles and informed her at dinner that night that the gym was now ready for use, but her problem was with Blake. Unaccountably he’d become withdrawn and depressed again. He ate what Alberta put before him, and he lay silent and uncomplaining while Dione exercised his legs, and that was all wrong. Therapy wasn’t something for a patient to passively accept, as Blake was doing. He could lie there and let her move his legs, but when they started working in the gym and in the pool, he’d have to actively participate.
    He wouldn’t talk to her about what was bothering him. She knew exactly when it had happened, but she couldn’t begin to guess what had triggered it. They had been sniping at each other while she gave him a massage before beginning the exercises, and all of a sudden his eyes had gotten that blank, empty look, and he’d been unresponsive to any of her gibes since then. She didn’t think it was anything she’d said; her teasing that day had been lighthearted, because of his greatly improved spirits.
    Turning her head to read the luminous dial of the clock, she saw that it was after midnight. As she had done every night, she got up to check on Blake. She hadn’t heard the sounds that he usually made when hetried to turn over, but she’d been preoccupied with her thoughts.
    As soon as she entered his room she saw that his legs had that awkward, slightly twisted look that meant he’d already tried to shift his position. Gently she put her left hand on his shoulder and her right on his legs, ready to move him.
    â€œDione?”
    His quiet, uncertain voice startled her, and she leaped back. She’d been so intent on his legs that she hadn’t noticed his open eyes, though the moonlight that played across the bed was bright enough for her to see him.
    â€œI thought you were asleep,” she murmured.
    â€œWhat were you doing?”
    â€œHelping you to roll over on your side. I do this every night; this is the first time you’ve been disturbed by it.”
    â€œNo, I was already awake.” Curiosity entered his tone as he shifted his shoulders restlessly. “Do you mean you come in here in the middle of every night and roll me around?”
    â€œYou seem to sleep better on your side,” she said by way of explanation.
    He gave a short, bitter laugh. “I sleep better on my stomach, or at least I did before. I haven’t slept on my stomach in two years now.”
    The quiet intimacy of the night, the moonlit room, made it seem as if they were the only two people on earth, and she was aware of a deep despair in him. Perhaps he felt a special closeness with her, too; perhaps now, with the darkness as a partial shield, he would talk to her and tell her what was bothering him. Without hesitation she sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled her nightgown snugly around her legs.
    â€œBlake, what’s wrong? Something’s bothering you,” she said softly.
    â€œBingo,” he muttered. “Did you take psychology, too, when you were in training to be Superwoman?”
    She ignored the cut and put her hand on his arm.