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going to be this bad. God, it hurts, Nick.”
    â€œYou’ll be much better in a couple of days.”
    â€œSure.” She didn’t believe it.
    Nick’s hand tightened on the bed railing. “Jesus, Hannah, every time I think of you in that car and of how bad it could have been….” His voice trailed off.
    â€œI know, I know,” she soothed. “I realize I should be counting my lucky stars that I got away with only some bruises and this bad leg. It’s just that right now it’s hard to count lucky stars. I’d rather count decimal places in a malpractice suit.”
    â€œThe nurses say Dr. Englehardt did a fantastic job,” Nick told her anxiously.
    â€œDon’t worry, I’m not planning on suing the man.” She managed a weary smile. “I must look awfully bad if you can’t tell when I’m joking.”
    â€œWell, you’re not at your best. Actually, you look pretty rotten at the moment.”
    â€œHonesty, thy name is younger brother.” The dark relief of sleep was pulling at her again and the complaint came out slightly blurred. But there was something she wanted to ask before she surrendered again to the dreams. Something to do with spiders and snakes.
    â€œDon’t try to stay awake on my account,” Nick said softly. “Get some sleep, Hannah. I’ll be back this evening.”
    â€œNick, what happened with Cage and the takeover bid? Everything’s okay now, isn’t it? He dropped the attack on Accelerated Design?”
    â€œLet’s just say he made his final move. It’s all over, Hannah.”
    The words didn’t sound right. They weren’t sufficiently reassuring. With grim effort Hannah managed to stay awake a moment longer. “He’s left you alone, hasn’t he? He promised he would.”
    Her last conscious thought was that her brother looked unaccountably somber. “He’s out of the picture, Hannah.”
    The relief she felt was marred by Nick’s next sentence. “I just hope to hell you didn’t sleep with him because then we both would have been had.”
    The next time she awoke with any alertness was the following morning. Hannah kept her eyes closed while she probed for sensation in her left leg. The pain seemed to be down to a dull throb. She decided to risk lifting her lashes. The first thing she saw was a bouquet of yellow roses and she grinned idiotically. If they were from Nick, they represented a great leap forward in his social development. If they were from her parents back East, they were appropriate and expected. If they were from someone on campus, they were very interesting. She reached out and picked up the card.
    Â 
    Be careful not to ask for what you want.
    You just might get it.
    Â 
    Hannah’s grin faded abruptly. Instinct warned her what the name on the card would be a split second before she read it. A local florist, apparently trying for an exotic touch, had used calligraphy to write Gideon Cage underneath the message. Nick’s ominous words from the previous afternoon flashed into Hannah’s bemused brain.
    â€œOh, hell.”
    A nurse popped into the room and caught the muttered words. “Leg still hurting? Only to be expected. You’ve got a long way to go before you’re fully recovered. But each day will be a little better than the last and in a couple of months you’ll be as good as new.” The woman smiled the determinedly cheerful smile of the professional nurse who saves real sympathy for real suffering. She wasn’t going to waste any on Hannah, apparently. She was wearing a name tag that identified her as Mrs. Broadcourt. “Doctor wants you on your feet as soon as possible. You’re to start physical therapy this afternoon.”
    Hannah looked at her. “Are you kidding? I’ll be lucky to make it from here to the bathroom.”
    The nurse smiled even more broadly. “If you need a