Read Online A Dangerous Game by Lucinda Carrington - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lucinda Carrington
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a silver, beaded gown, with a high neck and a very low
back which was more suitable for a nightclub, and a sedate, designer
ball-gown, which hugged her figure just tightly enough to be discreetly
provocative but which she felt was too formal, for the kind of party
Peter had described.
It has to be the little black number, she thought. She hadn't worn it
for some time and so slipped it over her head just to check that it
still fitted in all the right places. The HEMLINE came just above her
knees. She turned. The skirt fitted neatly over her behind, and the
cut of the bodice lifted and held her breasts so well that she had no
need for a bra. Just right, she thought. Sexy but nice. She was sure
Peter would approve. Another thought teased her. Would Nicolas
Schlemann be at the Marquez party? She had a feeling that he would
be.
She turned again, looking at her reflection. She did not look much
like the professional, white-coated woman he had met. She lifted her
arms and released her hair, letting it tumble to her shoulders.
Because the dress was not properly fastened, the movement lifted her
breasts upwards and for a moment her nipples were visible. She smiled
and adjusted the neckline decorously. Well, Senor Schlemann, she
thought, if you're at the party, sorry, but this is all you're going to
see!
On the day before the party Jacey arranged to go to El Inviemo for the
first time. Some of the staff at La Primavera had expressed surprise
that she was visiting the hospital, let alone intending to work
there.
But when he came to collect her, Paulo was delighted.
"Where you're going, the people need you. Eh" Muldaire Not like the
patients here."
"Some of the people here are ill, Paulo," she said.
"They are more seriously ill at El Inviemo," he answered.
She soon discovered he was right. She had been prepared for
overcrowding and antiquated equipment but the reality of El Inviemo
appalled her. Peter had not been exaggerating when he told her
patients brought their own mattresses and slept on the floor. She
picked her way carefully over sprawled bodies and family groups who
were camping out next to their sick relatives. When she found Dr.
Rodriguez he was swabbing an open wound on a young boy's arm. He
looked tired and hot.
"Dr. Muldaire?" His eyes assessed her without welcome or
enthusiasm.
"Are you willing to get your hands dirty?"
"I'm a doctor," she said crisply. And added, with the trace of a
smile, "Just like you."
She did not get a smile back.
"Not like me. You get paid ridiculously high wages at La Primavera,
and I guess that you do very little." He thrust a swab at her.
"Here, carry on with this. Don't take too long.
There's a queue of people outside who need attention." He glanced at
her white blouse and pale, linen skirt. It was a totally impersonal
appraisal.
"I hope you've got an overall in that expensive bag of yours. Those
fashionable clothes won't look so good with blood all over them."
She refused to take offence.
"I've got an overall," she said.
"And I've also got some antibiotics." She saw no change of expression
in his dark eyes and added hastily, "I didn't steal them. They're a
gift, from Dr. Draven and the staff at La Primavera."
"I wouldn't give a damn if you had stolen them," he said. For a moment
she thought he almost smiled. Then he turned to go.
"Thank Peter, and the others," he said abruptly.
Thrown in at the deep end, she looked at her first patient. Two
mournful brown eyes stared up at her. Quickly she found a new swab and
started work on the boy's arm. His mother watched her as she worked,
her face as smooth as a carved mask.
"There you are Jacey said, as she finished cleaning the boy's wound.
"That will soon be better." She
back which was more suitable for a nightclub, and a sedate, designer
ball-gown, which hugged her figure just tightly enough to be discreetly
provocative but which she felt was too formal, for the kind of party
Peter had described.
It has to be the little black number, she thought. She hadn't worn it
for some time and so slipped it over her head just to check that it
still fitted in all the right places. The HEMLINE came just above her
knees. She turned. The skirt fitted neatly over her behind, and the
cut of the bodice lifted and held her breasts so well that she had no
need for a bra. Just right, she thought. Sexy but nice. She was sure
Peter would approve. Another thought teased her. Would Nicolas
Schlemann be at the Marquez party? She had a feeling that he would
be.
She turned again, looking at her reflection. She did not look much
like the professional, white-coated woman he had met. She lifted her
arms and released her hair, letting it tumble to her shoulders.
Because the dress was not properly fastened, the movement lifted her
breasts upwards and for a moment her nipples were visible. She smiled
and adjusted the neckline decorously. Well, Senor Schlemann, she
thought, if you're at the party, sorry, but this is all you're going to
see!
On the day before the party Jacey arranged to go to El Inviemo for the
first time. Some of the staff at La Primavera had expressed surprise
that she was visiting the hospital, let alone intending to work
there.
But when he came to collect her, Paulo was delighted.
"Where you're going, the people need you. Eh" Muldaire Not like the
patients here."
"Some of the people here are ill, Paulo," she said.
"They are more seriously ill at El Inviemo," he answered.
She soon discovered he was right. She had been prepared for
overcrowding and antiquated equipment but the reality of El Inviemo
appalled her. Peter had not been exaggerating when he told her
patients brought their own mattresses and slept on the floor. She
picked her way carefully over sprawled bodies and family groups who
were camping out next to their sick relatives. When she found Dr.
Rodriguez he was swabbing an open wound on a young boy's arm. He
looked tired and hot.
"Dr. Muldaire?" His eyes assessed her without welcome or
enthusiasm.
"Are you willing to get your hands dirty?"
"I'm a doctor," she said crisply. And added, with the trace of a
smile, "Just like you."
She did not get a smile back.
"Not like me. You get paid ridiculously high wages at La Primavera,
and I guess that you do very little." He thrust a swab at her.
"Here, carry on with this. Don't take too long.
There's a queue of people outside who need attention." He glanced at
her white blouse and pale, linen skirt. It was a totally impersonal
appraisal.
"I hope you've got an overall in that expensive bag of yours. Those
fashionable clothes won't look so good with blood all over them."
She refused to take offence.
"I've got an overall," she said.
"And I've also got some antibiotics." She saw no change of expression
in his dark eyes and added hastily, "I didn't steal them. They're a
gift, from Dr. Draven and the staff at La Primavera."
"I wouldn't give a damn if you had stolen them," he said. For a moment
she thought he almost smiled. Then he turned to go.
"Thank Peter, and the others," he said abruptly.
Thrown in at the deep end, she looked at her first patient. Two
mournful brown eyes stared up at her. Quickly she found a new swab and
started work on the boy's arm. His mother watched her as she worked,
her face as smooth as a carved mask.
"There you are Jacey said, as she finished cleaning the boy's wound.
"That will soon be better." She
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