All That Glitters Read online

  A long time later she was roused by the sound of someone shouting her name. Oddly, she couldn't raise her head, but she opened her eyes and stared through the dim gray light of dawn, trying to see who had called her. She was cold, so cold, and it hurt to keep her eyes open. With a sigh, she closed them again. The shout came again, and now the voice was strangled. Perhaps someone was hurt and needed help. Gathering her strength, she tried to sit up, and the explosion of pain in her head sent her reeling into a tunnel of darkness.

  Nightmares tormented her. A black-eyed devil kept bending over her, hurting her, and she screamed and tried to push him away from her, but he kept coming back when she least expected it. She wanted Nikolas, he would keep the devil from hurting her, but then she would remember that Nikolas didn't love her and she knew she had to fight alone. And there was the pain in her head, her legs, that stabbed at her whenever she tried to push the devil away. Sometimes she cried weakly to herself, wondering when it would end and someone would help her.

  Gradually she realized that she was in a hospital. She knew the smells, the sounds, the starchy white uniforms that moved around. What had happened? Oh, yes, she had fallen on the rocks. But even when she knew where she was, she still cried out in fear when that big, black-eyed man leaned over her. Part of her knew now that he wasn't a devil; he must be a doctor, but there was something about him…he reminded her of someone…

  Then at last she opened her eyes and her vision was clear. She lay very still in the high hospital bed, mentally taking stock of herself and discovering what parts worked, what parts didn't work. Her arms and hands generally obeyed commands, though a needle was taped to the inside of her left arm and a clear plastic line attached it to an upside-down bottle that hung over her head. She frowned at the apparatus until that became clear in her mind and she knew it for what it was. Her legs worked also, though every movement was painful and she was stiff and sore in every muscle.

  Her head. She had banged her head. Slowly she raised her right arm and touched the side of her head. It was still swollen and tender, but her hair was still there, so she knew that the injury hadn't been serious enough to warrant surgery. All in all, she was extremely lucky, because she hadn't drowned, either.

  She turned her head and discovered immediately that it wasn't a smart move; she closed her eyes against the bursting pain, and when it had subsided to a tolerable ache, she opened her eyes again, but this time she didn't move her head. Instead, she looked about the hospital room carefully, moving nothing but her eyes. It was a pleasant room, with curtains at the windows, and the curtains were drawn back to let in the golden crystal of the sunshine. Comfortable-looking chairs were set about the room, one right beside her bed and several others against the far wall. An icon was set in the corner, a gentle little statue of the Virgin Mary in colors of blue and gold, and even from across the room Jessica could make out the gentle, glowing patience on her face. She sighed softly, comforted by the delicate Little Mother.

  A sweet fragrance filled the room, noticeable even above the hospital smells of medicine and disinfectant.

  Great vases of flowers were set about the room, not roses as she would have expected, but pure white French lillies, and she smiled as she looked at them. She liked lillies; they were such tall, graceful flowers.

  The door opened slowly, almost hesitantly, and from the corner of her eye Jessica recognized the white of Madame Constantinos's hair. She wasn't foolish enough to turn her head again but she said, "Maman," and was surprised at the weakness of her own voice.

  "Jessica, love, you're awake again," Madame Constantinos said joyously, coming into the room and closing the door behind her. "I should tell the doctor, I know, but first I want to kiss you, if I may. We've all been so worried."

  "I fell on the rocks," Jessica said by way of explanation.

  "Yes, we know," Madame Constantinos said, brushing Jessica's cheek with her soft lips. "That was three days ago. To complicate the concussion you had, you developed an inflammation in your lungs from the soaking you received, all on top of shock. Niko has been frantic; we haven't been able to make him leave the hospital even to sleep."

  Nikolas. She didn't want to think about Nikolas. She thrust all thoughts of him out of her tired mind. "I'm still so tired," she murmured, her eyelashes fluttering closed again.

  "Yes, of course," Madame Constantinos said gently, patting her hand. "I must tell the nurses now that you're awake; the doctor will want to see you."

  She left the room and Jessica dozed, to be awakened some unknown time later by cool fingers closing around her wrist. She opened her eyes to drowsily study the dark, slightly built doctor who was taking her pulse. "Hello," she said when he let her wrist down onto the bed.

  "Hello, yourself," he said in perfect English, smiling. "I am your doctor, Alexander Theotokas. Just relax and let me look into your eyes for a moment, h'mmm?"

  He shone his little pencil flashlight into her eyes and seemed satisfied with what he found. Then he listened intently to her heart and lungs, and at last put away his chart to smile at her.

  "So, you've decided at last to wake up. You sustained a rather severe concussion, but you were in shock, so we postponed surgery until you had stabilized, and then you confounded us by getting better on your own," he teased.

  "I'm glad," she said, managing a weak smile. "I don't fancy myself bald-headed."

  "Yes, that would have been a pity," he said, touching a thick tawny strand. "Until you consider how adorable you would have been with short baby curls all over your head! Nevertheless, you've been steadily improving. Your lungs are almost clear now and the swelling is nearly gone from your ankles. Both legs were badly bruised, but no bones were broken, though both ankles are sprained."

  "The wonder is that I didn't drown," she told him. "The tide was coming in."

  "You were soaking wet anyway; the water reached at least to your legs," he told her. "But you've improved remarkably; I think that perhaps in another week or ten days you may go home."

  "So long?" she questioned sleepily.

  "You must wait until your head is much better," he said, gently insistent. "Now, you have a visitor outside who is pacing a trench in the corridor. I will light a candle tonight in thanks that you have recovered consciousness, for Niko has been a wild man and I was at my wits end trying to control him. Perhaps after he has talked to you he will get some sleep, eh, and eat a decent meal?"

  "Nikolas?" she asked, her brow puckering with anxiety. She didn't feel up to seeing Nikolas now; she was so confused. So many things had gone wrong between them…

  "No!" she gasped, reaching out to clutch the doctor's sleeve with weakly desperate fingers. "Not yet—I can't see him yet. Tell him I've gone back to sleep—"

  "Calm down, calm down," Dr. Theotokas murmured, looking at her sharply. "If you don't want to see him, you don't have to. It's simply that he has been so worried, I thought perhaps you might tell him at least to go to a hotel and get a good night's sleep. He has been here for three days, and he's scarcely closed his eyes."

  Madame Constantinos had said much the same thing, so it must be true. Taking a deep breath, she steadied her wildly tingling nerves and breathed out an assenting murmur.

  The doctor and his retinue of nurses left the room, and immediately the door was pushed open again as Nikolas shouldered his way past the last nurse to leave. After one shocked glance, Jessica looked away. He needed to shave and his eyes were hollow and red with exhaustion. He was pale, his expression strained. "Jessica," he said hoarsely.

  She swallowed convulsively. After that one swift glance, she knew that the devil who had tormented her in her nightmares was Nikolas; the devil had had those same dark, leanly powerful features. She remembered him bending over her that night, her wedding night, and she shuddered.

  "You—you look terrible," she managed to whisper. "You need to sleep. Maman and the doctor said you haven't slept—"

  "Look at me," he said, and his voice sounded as thoug