LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

      Anaphylactic reaction.

      It had been so long since he'd had one, he almost couldn't believe it was happening.

      'Daniel? What's wrong?' Kirri was staring at him, her face puzzled, concerned. He shook his head, lurched to his feet. Already the lack of oxygen was making him dizzy. If he didn't reverse the reaction, his throat would swell up until it closed off his airways completely, and death would follow soon after.

      He hurried to the en-suite bathroom, grabbed his toiletries bag and unzipped it. He was reaching into the bag before he realised. His EpiPen, the adrenaline auto-injector he always carried for just such an emergency, wasn't there!

      Panic whistled through him. Then he forced himself to calmness. He searched through the bag again, but it definitely wasn't there. He remembered seeing it in the bag when he was in the hotel in Sydney. Had he somehow left it behind?

      'What's wrong with your breathing?' There was a note of fear in Kirri's voice. She was standing in the doorway, poised as though waiting for direction. 'Daniel? Can I help?'

      He shook his head. By the time an ambulance arrived it could be too late. Explaining this would have taken precious time and oxygen he couldn't spare. He whirled around, waited for the waves of dizziness and pain in his head to subside, then strode past her into the bedroom. Quickly sliding back the wardrobe door, he grabbed his hiking pack, unzipped a side pocket, and drew out a slim cylindrical case.

      Deftly, fingers steady in spite of the urge to hurry, he extracted the pen-like syringe, and removed the safety cap. A curse wheezed out of his mouth as he realised he hadn't removed his jeans.

      Suddenly Kirri moved in front of him. Her fingers swiftly undid his belt buckle, pulled down his zip and pushed his jeans to his knees.

      'Intramuscular. Thighs are good.'

      He jabbed the device into his flesh, felt the prick of the needle, then the adrenaline rushed through his system. He slid the EpiPen back into its case and massaged the injection area before pulling up his jeans and fastening them. The wardrobe door creaked as he leaned against it.

      It wasn't long before the medication relieved the swelling and feeling of breathlessness. He straightened up, saw Kirri watching him anxiously.

      'You're right,' he croaked, swallowing against the feeling of fullness in his throat, 'but how did you know?'

      'I have a friend who's a doctor. I saw her do it in an emergency.'

      'And did your doctor friend tell you what causes anaphylaxis?'

      Kirri nodded. 'It's an allergic reaction. What are you allergic to?'

      'Peanuts.' Daniel's heartbeat was speeding up with the adrenaline surge. And strangely, he began to feel angry. How the hell had he eaten peanuts?

      'Peanuts! But you haven't eaten -'

      Daniel brushed passed her, strode into the kitchen. He wrenched open the pantry door and pulled out the container of oil Kirri had used to cook the chicken wings and stir-fry vegetables. Olive Oil! Then how -

      He swung around as Kirri walked into the room. 'Did you check the ingredients in the marinade on the chicken when you bought it?' he demanded.

      She shook her head in bewilderment. 'No. Why should I?'

      Daniel's anger moved up another notch. 'Because you know I'm allergic to peanuts!'

      Kirri moved her hands in a placating gesture. 'Daniel, how could I know? I've only known you -'

      'Because I told you!' Hell! He hadn't been this angry in a long time.

      'When did you tell me?' It was obvious from the look on Kirri's face that she thought she was dealing with a madman. She had begun to step back from him, but he moved towards her.

      'In New Orleans,' he ground out. 'Two years ago.'

      Kirri felt the blood drain from her face. She swayed, grabbed at the doorjamb, listened in disbelief as Daniel continued.

      'How could you do it, Kirri? How could you leave me like that, without a word, without at least saying goodbye?' He rubbed his hand across his forehead in anguish. 'I thought you loved me! You told me you loved me! If you'd changed your mind, you could at least have had the decency to contact me, but just to run away like you did …'

      Shock.

      She knew it was shock. In some deep corner of her mind a sane voice was telling her that the numb feeling in her legs and the sensation of unreality in her mind were being caused by shock.

      'Damnit, Kirri! You'd agreed to be my wife! Why the hell …'

      He caught her as she sagged against the wall and began to slide down. Scooping her up in his arms, he hurried into the living room and placed her gently on the lounge. She sank into the leather and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them Daniel was hunkered down in front of her.

      'Kirri?' His expression had softened. Worry lines creased his forehead. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit you with it like that. It just seemed to …'

      She shook her head. Her mouth opened. No words would come out. She gulped, tried again.

      'For … two years … I've lived with the possibility … that I may have been raped.'

      CHAPTER FIVE

      Daniel rocked back on his heels. 'What?' He couldn't believe what he'd heard. Something was more wrong here than he'd thought.

      Then Kirri grabbed his hand, pulled it up to her head, and pushed his fingers through the mass of bright auburn curls. 'Feel them?' she asked. 'The ridges?'

      The tips of his fingers slid over a slight ridge of skull bone. As she moved his fingers further, he felt another one. He was positive he had never felt them before.

      'Skull fracture. A bad one. I almost died.'

      The air whooshed out of Daniel's lungs as though he'd been kicked in the ribs. He let his body fall the extra distance to the floor and sat down heavily. 'When?' he breathed.

      'In New Orleans.' Her face was a white mask, even the blue of her eyes had paled. 'The taxi I was travelling in was hit by a truck.'

      'Oh, God.' The bottom fell out of Daniel's stomach. He waited for Kirri to continue, but she just sat there, pale and, he noticed now, shaking. He reached up to take her hands. They were like ice. He pulled himself into a kneeling position. 'Just lie back. I'll make you a cup of coffee.'

      No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he remembered she didn't like coffee. 'Tea.' He corrected, as she uttered the word at the same time. A slight smile touched her lips and he was pleased to see a hint of colour coming back into her pale face.

      Daniel's words whirled in Kirri's mind as she heard him moving about in the kitchen. Wife! She was sure she'd heard that correctly. She'd agreed to be his wife! No, that couldn't be right. She hadn't even been in New Orleans a month! Surely not, in such a short time …

      'Here,' Daniel placed a mug of tea in her hands. 'Drink this.'

      The tea was hot and sweet, and she sipped it gratefully. Daniel sat opposite her on a single lounge chair. 'Do you feel up to telling me what happened?'

      'I can only tell you what I remember, and that's not much.' She drank more of the tea, felt its heat warm the chill from her hands. 'I have no memory at all of my time in New Orleans before the accident, or the two weeks before I arrived there.'

      As her words fell into the air between them, all the anger and heartache that had haunted Daniel crumbled away. She hadn't walked out on him! His relief was immense. But then he realised that she also had no memory of being in love with him, of agreeing to marry him, and despair tore at his heart.

      'But what about our photos?' he asked, a tiny flicker of hope that was quickly extinguished as she shook her head.

      'My shoulder bag was stolen from the taxi after

Скачать книгу