In Mcgillivray's Bed

Syd clutched the clothes, hiked up her quilt and followed him. To the left she saw what appeared to be a small living room, but McGillivray went straight back through a bedroom toward a door that led to a tiny bathroom. At least he had indoor plumbing. She’d begun to worry.

He also had one clean towel. At least she presumed it was, because he got it out of the cupboard. He turned on the shower taps. “Let the water run. It’ll get hot eventually. Don’t use it all up.”

“I won’t,” she assured him.

But he was already on his way out the door. “Watch out for spiders.”

“Spiders?” She looked around wildly.

McGillivray grinned wickedly over his shoulder. “Gotcha,” he mouthed.

She wanted to kill him.

“A woman who isn’t afraid of sharks shouldn’t let a little spider or two bother her,” he said. “I’ll fix us something to eat.” The door banged shut behind him.

There were no spiders. There were no snakes. She was alone. And suddenly every bit of the adrenaline that had been fueling her since Roland’s astonishing announcement vanished.

Her breath came in quick thready gasps. Her heart beat in a crazy staccato rhythm. Her vision darkened, and the room seemed to spin.

“Oh, help!” She groped for something to hang on to and grabbed the towel rack—right off the wall.

The door burst open.

“For God’s sake!” McGillivray kicked the towel rack aside and crouched beside her on the floor. “What the hell happened?”

“N-nothing. I…n-nothing.” She tried to get up, but found herself shoved down again and held fast.

“Did you faint?”

“Of course not!” But her brain was still spinning and her legs felt like mush. Even so, she squirmed against his hold.

“Stay still,” McGillivray commanded and thrust her head unceremoniously between her knees. “Take deep breaths—and don’t faint again!”

“I didn’t faint!” she said again for all the good it did her.

As if it were a matter of choice, anyway, she thought grimly, sucking in oxygen, doing her best not to make a liar out of herself, while a firm hand pressed against the back of her neck.

“Breathe, damn it.”

“I’m trying—” gulp, gulp “—to.”

“Then stop talking. Breathe deeper. Big breaths.”

God, he was bossy! “I’m all right,” she protested. “I just…tripped.”

“Yeah, right. Breathe.”

She did. And the blood thrummed in her ears and her heart slammed against the wall of her chest. But gradually her heart slowed, her vision returned. McGillivray’s callused hand, though, held her head firmly down.

She shifted. “I’m all right now,” she insisted, and pushed back against his hand.

He eased the pressure a bit. “Take it easy.” He watched her warily as she straightened up, as if expecting her to go headfirst onto the floor again.

Determined not to, she took another deep breath and sat up straight. The quilt fell away from her shoulders.

McGillivray’s breath hissed through his teeth. Reaching over, he jerked the quilt back up and wrapped it tightly around her again.

Surprised, Syd looked up at him.

He glared back at her. “What?”

“Nothing. I just…you seem…” She was babbling, but she couldn’t help it. “I didn’t think—” But it did make sense of things.

“You didn’t think what?” he demanded.

“That you were gay.”

“What?” He jerked as if she’d shot him. “What the hell do you mean, I’m gay?” McGillivray’s voice was a roar.

“Well, you keep covering me up!” Syd shouted back at him. “As if the sight offends you! I know I’m no raving beauty—” God knew Roland had been quite capable of resisting her “—but I’m passably attractive. At least, no one else has ever been at such pains not to have to look at me.”

He snorted and scrambled to his feet, as if putting as much distance between them as he could. “And that makes me gay?”

“I just thought… You said Lisa wasn’t your girlfriend. You were very…adamant about it. And you said your sister thought she was trying to, um, save you from yourself.”

It all made sense as far as Syd could see. “I don’t mind if you are,” she told him.

“Is that supposed to be comforting?”

“Well, I—”

He straightened up, wincing a little as he did so, then glowered down at her. “Do I look like I’m gay, sweetheart?” he drawled.

From her vantage point, at the level of his hairy, tanned knees, Syd looked slowly up—and came to the very obvious evidence that he was not.

“Oh,” she said in a very small voice.

McGillivray looked somewhere between pained and gratified at her realization. “Exactly,” he muttered.

Syd knew her face was burning. “Um…sorry. Is there…anything I can do?”

McGillivray goggled at her. “Are you for real?”

God, she might go up in flames! “I didn’t mean that!” she protested. “I just—never mind!” Obviously, she wasn’t good at this sort of thing.

“I’ll live,” McGillivray said dryly in the face of her confusion. Then he reached out a hand. “Here. Can you stand on your own two feet?”

“Yes, of course.” She would have declined his hand altogether but she was afraid she might fall over if she did. But somehow, touching him, knowing the effect she’d had on him, made her let go the second she was upright. “I’m all right,” she assured him. “Really. I just got a bit light-headed for a moment. I didn’t faint!” she added when she saw the gleam in his eyes.