Dangerous Journey
“She was sitting in her bed, leaning against a pile of pillows, with the covers pulled up around her neck. A short while earlier she had cleansed the blisters on her hands and had changed into a very unsexy cotton nightgown—the only kind she owned.“Room service will bring up your order as soon as possible,” he said, broad smile on his face. “And I found some ointment and bandages for your hands.”He perched on the edge of the bed, dipped two fingers into the jar of the greasy, healing balm and he...ld her hands as if they were fragile porcelain while he smeared ointment on them.“I think you could use a little of that yourself,” she said, eyeing a red mark on his jaw and his slightly scraped knuckles.“No, I’ll be fine. And you will, too.” He covered not only the areas of her hands with blisters, but her entire palm and fingers. She wasn’t about to complain or correct him. No one had ever tried to help her that way since she was a little kid, and even then, her mother usually just handed her Bactine when she had a scrape or cut.“At least I learned what ‘C.J.’ stands for,”MoreLess
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