Read Divine by Mistake for Free Online

off my head and exchanging it for a new, cool bandage handed to her by an incredibly young nurse wearing an odd, flowing uniform. The “nurse” looked like she was ready to frolic in the meadow, not go to work in the E.R., or ICU, or…
    Blackness was tinged with the sweet, cough-syrupy taste of medicine.
    The next time the blackness lifted suddenly. It was not a gentle awakening. Oh, no, I was going to—
    “Here, my Lady. Let me aid you.” Suzanna supported my back and held my hair out of the way as I puked my guts up over the side of the bed (she really is a good best girlfriend—I’m sorry I called her stuck-up before). When I finished barfing up my innards, she guided me back to my pillow and wiped my face clean.
    I seriously hate puking. Always have. It makes me shake and feel out of control. I’m glad I don’t do it very often, but when I do, I admit I’m a baby about it. So, true to form, I couldn’t stop shaking. I was weak and disoriented, but I thought that might have been because I was dead, not just because of the puking.
    “Wa…wa…ter.” I managed to get an understandable squeak out of my throat, and Suzanna immediately motioned to a waiting nurse, and another goblet appeared. She held it for me and helped me to drink.
    “Uuuckk!” I spewed most of it out—it wasn’t water, it was weak wine. Now, I adore wine, but not after puking.
    “Suz! Wa…t…er.” I gave her the girlfriend, I’m gonna kill you look as I tried to get my point across.
    “Yes, my Lady!” She paled again and turned to the nurse, handing her the goblet. (What kind of hospital was this, anyway?) “Bring Lady Rhiannon water immediately!” The nymphlike nurse rushed away. Suzanna turned back to me, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Forgive me, my Lady. I misunderstood. Blame me, not the maiden.” She folded her hands together over her breast, like she was praying or something, and bowed her head, still not meeting my eyes.
    Okay, what the hell was going on? I caught hold of one of her hands and tugged, trying to get her to look at me. And then I noticed her hair. It was her normal color—blondish, with pretty, natural highlights—but it had become tangled with my hand. Because it was waist length and falling over her shoulders and breasts and was therefore entangled in our hands.
    “No. How…” I managed to sputter. Suzanna has always had a short, sexy haircut. I love to kid her about it looking mussed and naughty. She says, “Why, thank you!” like a cat that just lapped up cream. How could it possibly have grown down to her waist? Oh, great. Had I been in some kind of coma? Perhaps I’d been “out” for a gazillion years, and out of grief she’d descended into some unfortunate Lady Godiva phase while I was unconscious, and without my astute girlfriend-telling-her-what-looks-right fashion sense she had grown her hair down to her butt.
    Nope, she didn’t look any older. The bitch.
    She still avoided my eyes as I studied her. It was definitely Suzanna. Same petite bone structure. Beautiful round face that somehow radiated goodness. Her long tresses were pulled behind her perfect little ears, just like when her hair was short. The same freckles dotted her nose and high cheekbones. If she’d smile (which didn’t appear too likely) I bet I’d see familiar dimples on either side of her gentle lips.
    “Suz…” I tugged on her hand, trying to get her to look at me. As she glanced up, my eyes met the same golden-brown eyes that have been peering back at me for years. “Wha…” I tried to rasp out a question while giving her the what’s up, girlfriend? look. She seemed to soften, but the nurse ran in (really, the nymphet actually ran into the room) with a new goblet.
    “Here, my Lady.”
    Thank God, real water. And it was even cool. I tried to suck as much down as I could, but my throat rebelled.
    “Th…anks,” I managed to rasp. Suzanna had to lean forward to hear me, but I knew she understood because