Somehow he managed to struggle to his feet with the girl's help. "You need to relax," she said. "Come with me." Too weak to protest or even to wonder why it was necessary to move, Hendley allowed himself to be led away from the pool area. They were on grass, and she steadied him as he sagged against her. Then they were under a canopy of trees which screened the sunlight. The cool shade felt good. Sounds of play in the pool had diminished.
"Lie here," the girl murmured in his ear.
Hendley did as he was told. It was wonderful to lie on the cool grass, to let his abused muscles relax, to close his eyes, to feel the soft breath of air against his body....
He tried to sit up. He wasn't in his uniform. He wore only the minimal cover of the white mesh bathing trunks, and the girl's hands were busily divesting him of this garment.
"You're so white," she breathed, lowering herself to the ground beside him. "You don't know what that does—it's been so long since I've seen anybody so white. And you're hurt. I'll make you feel better—you'll see."
"Wait!" Hendley protested weakly.
"Mmmm," the girl said, her mouth seeking his. "I don't know what it is—when I see a man hurt...."
"TLL! TLL!" Someone was calling. A man's voice. "TLL—where are you?"
"Oh, damn!" the girl said.
"TLL?" The voice was coming closer. Hendley's scalp prickled as he recognized the voice. The muscular blond swimmer, her Contracted! If the man found them like this, he'd never believe....