Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
His eyes flutter closed, eyelashes sexy enough for the runway brushing his cheeks, and like a fool, I stand there and keep watching him. When he winces again in pain, I remember the alarm went off and I didn’t give him meds. Before counting out the dose the doctor instructed me to give him, I use the temporal thermometer I had delivered.
“You’re still running fever, but it’s not as high as it has been.”
“How long?”
“A hundred and one.”
“No.” He shakes his head back and forth. “How long have I been out?”
“It’s Friday morning.”
His eyes snap open, the bright blue a shocking contrast to the pallor of his face.
“Wednesday? Who did Blackbridge send?”
I shake my head. “No one. You were too sick to call.”
“You didn’t leave.”
“I promised I’d stay.”
His mouth opens as if he’s going to speak, but nothing comes out. Instead of focusing on his shock, I gather the meds and hold that and a bottle of Pedialyte for him to take.
“That shit’s for babies,” he grumbles, but he takes the pills and a small sip of the offensive drink.
“And here I thought you were acting like a badass,” I tease.
Jesus. I nearly groan out loud when his tongue snakes out to catch a drop of the grape flavored liquid from his bottom lip. I replace the cap on the bottle and turn away. He’s feeling better, and that means I don’t have to stay right on top of him while he sleeps.
“Stay,” he says, mustering enough strength to encircle my wrist before I can step away. “You look exhausted, too.”
I’m dead tired, but admitting so seems like complaining, so I just nod, walking around the bed to climb in on the other side.
I’m torn between being grateful the bed is a California king and hating the distance it forces between us. I chastise myself internally for making this more than it actually is. He’s made it perfectly clear he isn’t interested in me on any level, and yet I can’t seem to keep my head from fabricating scenarios where he desires me, if only for a little while.
The bed shakes with a tremor big enough to force my eyes to him. Maybe he isn’t quite out of the woods yet.
“You okay?”
He nods, his eyes still closed, but I watch him struggle to bury deeper under the blankets.
“Where are you going?” he asks when I toss my side of the blankets back.
“Going to get another blanket.”
“Just get closer to me. Body heat is best.”
Lord, give me strength.
“A blanket would—”
“Remington,” he growls with chattering teeth, another shiver taking over his body. “Get back in the damn bed.”
My heart is pounding in my chest as I do as he says. We can argue about his bossiness once he’s feeling better.
“Happy?” I snip after climbing in and aligning the side of my body along his.
“Not even close.” He clasps my hand on the opposite side and pulls me along as he rolls over.
I hide a smile in the center of his back. The heat coming off of him should be stifling, but somehow, it’s exactly what I need.
“Never took you for the little spoon kind of guy.”
His body shakes with a laugh. “I wouldn’t be able to control myself as the big spoon, Remi.”
I let my eyes close, pressing my nose between his shoulder blades. Taking long breaths, I just let myself enjoy this moment. It means absolutely nothing. I’m not delusional that I let myself believe this is the beginning of something, but I’ll soak up the quasi-affection for as long as he allows.
“This is the best medicine,” he whispers, and his voice is so low, I’m left wondering if he doesn’t mean for me to hear or if he’s actually talking in his sleep. “You feel good.”
I swallow a lump threatening to seize in my throat, but don’t make a sound. I can’t help the way my breathing ratchets up, but he’s still shivering a little so maybe he won’t notice. I resist tangling my legs with his, leaving them aligned with the crook of his. My body heats, and I know it’s much more than his own fever making me hot.
Is it inappropriate? Is it creepy that I’m actually turned on right now? Because I am. I clench my teeth and tell myself to calm the hell down, but I know it’s a futile effort. I don’t think any warm-blooded woman could be calm lying flush against a man so damn hot.
“I’m sorry you have such shitty parents.” His voice is even lower, and I feel the words emanating from his back rather than actually hear every syllable. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen deserves better. I like chasing you, but catching you is the most fun.”
His voice trails off, and when his breathing evens out, disclosing that he’s finally fallen asleep, I allow myself the quick opportunity to hold him just a little tighter.