Hot Fudge And Peppermint Part 3

She shook her head. "I need to be alone." Still no hint of regret or willingness to compromise.

With another woman, he'd put his hand on her arm and pull her around to face him. But that might hurt Nik, so instead he got out of bed and sat on the floor in front of her. He was nicely positioned between her and the bathroom, and she wasn't going anywhere until he decided to let her. "In other words, you got what you wanted out of this, and I should buzz off before I annoy you?"

She sat up straighter. "That's not it. I told you I can't do anything to jeopardize my health."

"And how would having me around jeopardize your health?" He'd like her reason to be that his presence would tempt her to ignore her ch.o.r.es, but he doubted that would turn out to be it.

"I do a lot of meditating on weekends, and I can't do that with anyone around." Her answer wasn't as grudging as he'd expected, so maybe he'd been wrong about her att.i.tude.

He shrugged. "Okay. Well, I usually spend time at the athletic club working out on Sundays. I can do that while you meditate."

Her eyes darted around the room, and he knew he was about to hear more excuses. "Look, last night was great, but I don't really think I could take another night like that right away. Maybe next weekend -"

He cut her off. "Next weekend's a h.e.l.l of a long time from now. If last night was too much for you, just tell me and we'll figure out how to make it easier."

She sighed. "It wasn't too much. It's just -"

He gritted his teeth. "I told you, Nik. Don't set arbitrary limits. Trust me to be willing to work things out with you. If your body can't handle making love so many times, we'll deal with it." How, he couldn't imagine, but he'd figure something out.

She looked doubtful. "I don't see why you're wasting your time on me. Other women don't have these problems."

"They're also not you, Nikolia." Because he'd been with a lot of women and knew how they thought, he added, "I'm not saying I'll necessarily want to be with you forever, but I'm with you now because of you, not because it's convenient." He smiled at her and caressed her leg. "Come on. I'll let you get your ch.o.r.es done, and we'll have a good time in between."

She softened a little. "Give me until seven o'clock." He suspected that was about as far as she'd go. "Make it six, and I'll take you anywhere you want for dinner."

She laughed. "You don't want to eat at the kind of places I dare to go."

"Try me," he said, willing her with his eyes to trust him that far.

With a smile, she warned him, "You'll be sorry."

Not a chance.

CHAPTER FIVE.

Nik blew her breath out and grimaced. Bill didn't belong in the middle of her visualization of the deep blue waters of Crater Lake! Not when the point of the whole exercise was to relax and let the mental vacation loosen her always-tight muscles!

Why was he interested in her? It couldn't simply be the need for conquest - not after last night. And she didn't like womanizers, so it made no sense for her to find him so attractive. Yet - Yet nothing. This was her mental and physical exercise time, and if she couldn't succeed at mental exercise today, she'd darn well do a good job of the physical.

First, a few minutes more of stretching. She'd started the session with some simple flexibility work, and now she repeated the same exercises before increasing the pace and working up a light sweat.

Then, onto the bike for twenty minutes, starting with no resistance and increasing it a notch every five minutes. That would get her full attention. She couldn't keep wondering about Bill's motives while she struggled and sweated.

She could, however, wonder what he was doing right now. Was he at the athletic club? What kind of exercise did he do? He didn't have big bulky muscles, but the muscles were there, and they were strong.

His body was more sculpted now than it had been, too.

He'd changed in other ways since college, too. He'd always been brash and charming, but he was smoother and more sure of himself now. And his technique in bed had definitely improved - That was enough of that! She had at least a little self- control, and wallowing in endless mental replays of last night wasn't something she would allow. She needed to stay as objective as possible about this affair.

She had to. It wouldn't last, and she couldn't let its end throw her into a major flare or down cycle.

Bill certainly wouldn't have chosen this humongous salad bar as a place to take a date, but he enjoyed his dinner. Nik stuck almost entirely to the most healthy ingredients, while he was an equal-opportunity diner - plenty of fresh salad, but also a loaded baked potato, chili, and a big make-your-own sundae of frozen yogurt and several toppings.

He had second thoughts about the sundae when he saw Nik eyeing it as though she wanted to rip it out of his hands. "Should I not eat this in front of you?"

She managed a small smile. "No, it's okay. I'll make a small one for myself, and that'll take care of mysweet tooth." She went off then, returning in a minute with a much smaller and less gooey dish.

He still felt awkward about it, so a minute later he said, "I guess I ought to know some specifics about the diet you're on. It looks like you eat a lot of vegetables and very little fat - is that right?"

She nodded. "Not much meat, either, and in general, foods that aren't highly-processed. It's a trial-and-error thing with me, mostly, and I can eat small amounts of things that aren't good for me, as long as my fibro's reasonably under control. I also take all sorts of nutritional supplements and vitamins - probably fifty pills a day - because my system gets out of whack easily."

"What do you eat normally?"

"Nutrition drinks or yogurt a couple of times a day, and typically homemade soup and salad for dinner."

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "I get pretty bored with the same stuff all the time, but finding new recipes takes more effort than I'm willing to spend on it."

He opened his mouth to say he'd cook her dinner, but decided he should find something he could safely make for her first. "Can you drink alcohol?"

She shrugged. "It's the same as everything else. I can handle a little, once in a while." She looked down at her nearly-untouched sundae. "I'm sorry. I know this isn't very much fun for you."

What was she talking about? "I'm having a good time. Aren't you?"

"Sure." She waved a hand at the utilitarian dining room surrounding them. "This can't be the kind of place you normally frequent, though."

"Well, no," he admitted. "Although it kind of reminds me of the main cafeteria back at school."

She chuckled. "Exactly. Maybe now you'll believe me when I say you don't want to go the kind of places I dare eat at."

She still didn't get it. He shook his head. "Not a chance, Nikolia. I want to be with you, and as long as you're with me, I'm happy."

She didn't believe him, but he didn't really care. He knew it was true.

For now.

Funny. That was the first time he'd had to remind himself that his interest in a woman would only be temporary.

When her lunchtime meditation/rest break on Monday left her neck and shoulders still feeling like they were caught in a vise grip, Nik had to admit what her body was telling her. Two nights in a row with Bill was pus.h.i.+ng her limits, and another one would probably throw her completely out of balance.

She dreaded having to explain that to Bill. He claimed he wouldn't have a problem accepting restrictions based on her health, but she didn't believe him. He liked having his own way too much.

She called him the minute she got home, hoping to catch him before he came over. His answering machine picked up and she told it, "Bill, this is Nik. You can't come over tonight. I'm tired and in pain, and what I need is a quiet evening by myself. I'm sorry." She purposefully didn't say that she most likely needed several nights of rest to recover enough to spend another night with him. He'd never be able toleave that kind of statement unchallenged.

She knew better than to do what she wanted to right now - crawl into bed and stay there until morning.

Instead, she exercised, concentrating on her stretching exercises. They were the most critical, and she didn't dare skip them even one night. The bike was another matter. It would be too exhausting.

She had no appet.i.te, but forced herself to zap a mug of soup in the microwave and to pour herself a large gla.s.s of filtered water. She ate mechanically, trying not to feel sorry for herself.

The attempt was doomed. She couldn't help comparing tonight to last night, and this dinner to yesterday's. How rotten did her life have to be, anyway? By some miracle, she actually had a lover for the first time in years, and her body wouldn't even let her make the most of it. It wasn't like Bill was going to stick around, day after day and week after week, waiting for her to be strong enough to have s.e.x with him. His appet.i.te was too strong to put up with that for long, even if he would otherwise be willing to do that.

And after he left, what? A whole lifetime of nights spent alone and miserable like this, that's what. It just wasn't fair!

Bill told himself that Nik was playing hard-to-get again. She wasn't sick. She just wanted to regain the upper hand in their relations.h.i.+p. She'd given in too easily over the weekend, and now she intended to make him pay. Well, he'd see about that.

But the hollow feeling inside his gut made the drive to her house seem endless, and the wait before she answered the door panic-inducing.

And once he saw her, there was no question about it. She was sick. She leaned most of her weight on the doorframe, but still barely seemed able to stand, and her skin appeared chalky. "I left you a message," she said, too weakly to be called a whine.

He spun the truth a little. "I was worried about you. I wanted to make sure you didn't need anything."

She gingerly shook her head an inch or two in each direction. "Oh, no. I've got everything I need.

Thanks."

She started to close the door, and he stopped it with his hand. "Since I'm here, could I come in? I'd like to know more about your illness."

Her forehead creased as though his request put an intolerable burden on her. "I'm not going to change my mind about you staying. And I really am sick, so don't give me any c.r.a.p about cultivating a positive mental att.i.tude." The flatness made her voice sound eerily robotic.

He felt the need to defend himself against her unfair a.s.sumptions, but now wasn't the time to argue with her. "I believe you, Nikolia. I'm only asking so I can understand better."

She sighed and took her weight off the door. "You can't stay long. I need to rest."

He stepped inside and slipped his arm around her waist. "I'll leave when you ask. Let's go sit down - or would you rather lie on your bed?"

She half-snorted. "The living room will be fine." He helped her to her recliner, doing most of the work and being amazed at how fragile her body felt. It was the same body he'd spent many of the last forty-eight hours making love to - how could it feel so different now? She lowered herself cautiously into her chair, her breath catching suddenly a couple of times.

The hollow feeling in his gut worsened, sending a chill all the way to his heart. "Can I get you something to drink - or anything - before I sit down?"

"No," she said, her voice barely louder than a breath. "Just tell me what you want to know."

"I want to know what hurts." The words were out before he realized what he was saying. He didn't want to know that! He didn't want to hear about pain! Or see pain - or even know that it existed. No more.

Never. He'd geared his whole adult life to avoiding every aspect of pain - mental and emotional, as well as physical.

He ought to take back his words. And leave. Leave before he saw any more.

But it was already too late. He'd seen her like this, and now she was telling him about it. "Everything hurts." She curled her lips up in a sad attempt at a smile. "Seriously. I don't remember what I told you before, but fibromyalgia makes my muscles ache constantly. It's kind of like having a bad case of the flu all the time - or a monster hangover. But normally, the pain's at a level I can mostly ignore, or control with my various relaxation techniques."

"But you can't do that now," he said, not needing to ask.

"No," she said, with another of her mini-head shakes. It probably hurt to move her head more than that much. "They don't know what causes fibro, nor even what makes it worse in general, but one of the problems is that lack of sleep makes the symptoms worse, and the symptoms make it particularly hard to get restful sleep."

Guilt stabbed him in the gut, nearly making him wince out loud. "And I didn't let you get enough sleep over the weekend. Geez, Nik, I'm sorry. I -"

She lifted a finger to stop his words. "It's my fault more than yours. I know how much sleep my body needs, and I thought I was getting the bare minimum. Besides, I slept more hours at a stretch than I usually do, and I figured that would give me a little cus.h.i.+on."

He remembered waking her Sat.u.r.day night, simply because he couldn't stand to keep his hands to himself. "Still, you told me how important it was that I let you sleep."

Her smile this time looked more real. "I didn't mind that you didn't."

He wasn't going to follow that train of thought. Getting turned on all over again wasn't going to do either of them any good. "What do you do now? Try to catch up on your rest?"

"Yeah, although when I'm like this, my sleep is even less restful than usual. It'll take me several days of doing nothing except work, but eventually I should be back to ground-zero."

"Work? You're not going to work when you're like this, are you?" The idea was ludicrous.

She sighed. "I have to, Bill. My career is really important to me, and if I stayed home every time my fibro wasn't under perfect control, I'd spend more time at home than at work."

"But you'll just make it worse!" "Not really. Besides, if I stayed home, I'd get depressed about it, and that's much worse for me than this." She seemed to search his face for a few seconds, then added, "Depression is a problem for most people with fibro. It normally isn't for me, and I try extra hard to avoid it, because I've seen how damaging it can be. People just give up sometimes. They figure fibro's not curable, so they can't possibly have any sort of reasonable life with it. That's not the way I want to live my life."

He understood more than he wanted to about people giving up. "Okay. I can buy that. But I'd like to help. What can I do?"

"Just don't ha.s.sle me about spending the night. I'll tell you when I'm ready. Okay?"

He sighed. He'd left himself open for that one. "Sure. And I'll bet you'd like me to leave now, wouldn't you?"

Her nod was grateful. "I'm sorry, but yes."

On the way to the front door, he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Take care, Nikolia."

He should run as fast as he could away from her. He always kept the women he slept with at a careful distance. He didn't want to know about their troubles, nor share his with them.

Instead, he walked slowly to his car, wis.h.i.+ng he didn't have to go at all.

CHAPTER SIX.

Nik took a sleeping pill before going to bed. She hated the drugged morning-after feeling she'd have tomorrow, but she needed as good a night's sleep as she could manage.

One of the theories about fibro said that everyone's muscles developed small strains or tears during their daily activities. The tears in normal people's bodies were repaired during the deepest most restorative phase of sleep - a phase fibro sufferers, including Nik, spent little or no time in. Sleeping pills didn't induce natural sleep, but they were her only option at times like these.