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  "I'll do it." Hal slid the window open a crack, letting in a blast of blessedly frigid air. He sighed, sticking his face into the breeze. "That's better!"

  "If you moved out of the way," Laila said crossly, "I might be able to get some, too!"

  Hal gave her a sheepish grin and moved. "Better?"

  She nodded, swallowing. Her head was beginning to throb terribly. The cloth was no longer cool, and no longer very damp.

  "Let me see." The bed sank as Hal sat down next to her, taking the cloth away. "It looks better. Do you want some ice to put on it?"

  "I think we need some ice," Laila said. "Not just for my eye either."

  "I'll get some." Hal took her hand and helped her scoot back on the bed. "You lie down here. I'll take care of it."

  It's nice, Laila reflected, being pampered. Hal turned the small television on, brought her aspirin and some cool water from the bathroom, and even plumped her pillows. He refreshed the damp cloth and helped her take off her shoes.

  "I'll be right back," he said.

  After he'd gone, Laila took the washcloth off her eye and probed the tender spot. It was going to be sore for a while, but the aspirin had started to kick in. She laid the pink-tinged cloth on the bedside table, then realized something weird. Something interesting, that made her feel even warmer than the room's tropic temperatures.

  She'd been bleeding, but Hal hadn't noticed.

  Chapter 6

  Spending the night sweating and writhing around on his bed would have been fun, except, of course, that he'd done it alone. Hal sluiced cool water over himself, rinsing away the night's stickiness. Sleeping in the room had been like sleeping in a sauna.

  He really wanted a shower, not a half-hearted soak in the claw-foot tub. Something brisk and refreshing to wake him up. He hadn't slept well. Between the heat and the erotic dreams he'd kept having about Laila, the hard and lumpy loveseat had seemed even more uncomfortable.

  "Are you almost finished?" Laila rapped on the closed door. "I'm starving!"

  "I'll be right out." Hal stepped out of the tub and toweled off. He brushed his teeth and ran his fingers through his hair, then opened the door.

  Laila tapped the off button on the remote and laid it on top of the television. In the morning light, her eye looked even more horrific than it had the night before. Added to the swelled eye and cut brow were assorted other bruises on her cheek and forehead. He'd really nailed her.

  She hadn't bothered trying to conceal the wounds with makeup either. Hal admired that. He knew her face would raise a lot of questions, but if Laila was willing to face them, so was he.

  "Another day in the Alster family week of torture!" she intoned lightly. "Prepare yourself for another day of hiking, arts and crafts, and general merriment!"

  "It hasn't been that bad," Hal said, watching her smile. He could watch her for hours.

  "Not yet." Laila raised her uninjured brow. "There's still time."

  "Starting with breakfast," Hal said.

  She groaned, holding her stomach. "It's all too much!"

  "Your family really isn't that bad," Hal told her.

  Laila laughed. "I meant too much food, Hal. But thanks. They just haven't started the real grilling yet. Give them time."

  Though the room was still stifling, the air outside was chill. Gray clouds hung low in the sky. Laila shivered as she stepped out and Hal joined her. It was more than just cold out here; it was downright bitter.

  "I'm glad there's no ride scheduled for today," Laila remarked as they set off on the now-familiar path toward the main lodge. "I think I'm just going to stick by the fire."

  That sounded good to Hal, too. Prop his feet up, read a good book. Laila would rest her head on his shoulder, and-- Whoa, he was getting carried away. Hal fought off the daydream. There was no sense in thinking about things that would only be fake, if they happened at all.

  "'Morning!" Laila called to the table reserved for her family.

  Hal braced himself for the comments on Laila's bruises, but none came. The table fell silent as they approached it. The subdued air was vastly different from the previous meals the family had shared.

  Hal saw Laila's mother and Bubbe share a look as he and Laila sat down, but neither said anything. In fact, nobody said anything at all until little Henry spoke up.

  "Gee, Aunt Laila," he said with syrup-smeared lips. "What happened to your face?"

  "Henry!" Ruth snapped. "Don't bother Aunt Laila."

  Laila's hand flew up to touch her eye. "I tripped," she said cheerfully, sliding into the chair next to Henry's. "Pretty clumsy, huh?"

  "Did Dr. David help you with your eye like he helped me with my nose?" Henry asked solemnly, chewing on another mouthful of pancake.

  Laila gave Hal a smile. "He sure did."

  "I'll bet he did," Hal heard Eli mutter. Laila's brother got up from the table and tossed down his napkin. "I think I'm done. Sarah?"

  Eli's wife gathered their three daughters and hiked their infant son up onto her hip. Hal couldn't be imagining the scowl she gave him. She looked like she wanted to slap him.

  Ruth squeezed Laila's shoulder as she stood. "Let's talk," she stage-whispered.

  "Okay," Laila said, her tone bewildered.

  "Later," Ruth said with a glance at Hal that had his heart settling into his mismatched socks.

  The table cleared quickly after that, with every one of Laila's relatives giving her sympathetic looks and scowling at Hal. Finally, they were the only two left at the table. Laila sat back in her chair with a bemused laugh.

  "Do we smell bad?" she asked.

  Hal took a listless sip of his orange juice. "I think they're mad at me."

  "Already?" Laila hooted. "Damn, Hal, you're good. What did you do this time?"

  "Well for starters," he said glumly, "I beat you."

  "You..." Laila touched her face again. "Oh, I'm sure they don't think that."

  He thought of the looks her family had given him. "Want to bet?"

  She looked disturbed. "I want them to be happy I'm not going to marry you, not think you're evil."

  He shrugged. "Did you look in the mirror today?"

  "As little as possible." Laila curled her fingers over her his for just a moment. "Don't worry, Hal. It'll be okay."

  "If you say so," Hal replied, but he didn't believe her.

  As was the norm for Alster vacations, every spare moment of the day was crammed with things to do. Though they'd been abandoned at breakfast, Laila and Hal found themselves converged upon and dragged into every conceivable activity as the day went on.

  First it was the Wang Dang Doodle Tango contest held in the games lounge. Complete with wacky DJ and themed decorations, the game attracted most of the resort's younger population.

  So much for her quiet afternoon by the fire, Laila thought with a wince as the music screeched even louder.

  After the tango contest, which neither she nor Hal managed to finish, Laila's mother insisted the two of them go with her to the crafts room to make pinecone bird feeders. Aside from the resort counselors, the three of them were the room's only adult occupants.

  "It's just precious," Irene said, dangling Laila's glittery, peanut-buttery creation from its yarn loop. "You can hang it from a tree in your yard!"

  "Mom," Laila said impatiently. "I don't have a backyard. I live in a townhouse."

  "Whatever," Irene said airily, in a way that made Laila suspicious.

  What exactly was going on? Had her family gone even nuttier than usual? Laila watched Hal fight with his pinecone. The peanut butter got all over his fingers, which he then promptly burned with the hot glue gun.

  "I think we're done," Laila said wryly to the counselor who came over to check their progress.

  "Good," said Irene firmly. She tugged Laila from the table, but ignored the struggling Hal. "Because it's time for the makeovers."

  "Makeovers?" Laila stopped, resisting her mother's tugging. "What makeovers?"

  "Bubbe sch