“Yes, I know your views,” Stacie conceded, her voice quiet with understanding. “And no, he hasn’t said anything yet, but he must feel something for me.”
“Why must he? Because he’s a fantastic lover? He makes you feel like you’re the only woman on the planet? Stacie, they all do that…until they decide they want a change of scenery, and then you’re yesterday’s newspaper wrapped around the fish and chips.”
“They don’t actually use newspaper anymore,” Stacie pointed out, aware that perhaps she wasn’t being particularly helpful, but at the same time not wanting to let Jen’s viewpoint affect her own attitude towards Cam. She hoped a little levity might lighten the mood.
Jen huffed. “You know what I mean. How long have you been seeing him now?”
“Over a month—and I’ve seen him virtually every day.”
“Until now,” Jen reminded her.
Stacie had another mouthful of risotto. Friday lunch at the little Italian restaurant was becoming a regular habit for the pair of them—they were both grateful to spend some time away from the office at the end of the week. She had a feeling that her friend would only be a little happier and a little less prickly once she got to meet Cam. Stacie checked her watch.
“He has a conference and meetings in Edinburgh for the next few days—that’s the only reason I’m not seeing him again until next week. His flight leaves in a couple of hours, so he’ll be on his way to Heathrow, if he’s not there already. He’s due back on Wednesday evening’s flight, so how about if we arrange to meet for a drink after work next Friday? You’ll be back from your break by then, won’t you?”
With a little more sweet-talking, Jen eventually agreed to Stacie’s plan for her to meet Cam. She’d just have to remember to forewarn him about her friend’s somewhat prickly nature, and that he should be prepared to win her over.
After lunch the two women returned to the office. For Stacie the afternoon dragged by even more than usual, and she knew exactly why. For someone she’d known a relatively short period of time, Cam had quickly become an essential part of her life. What lay ahead of her was not just a weekend but close to a week of going cold turkey from the irresistibly addictive drug that was Cameron Fraser.
~~*~~
After a weekend that had, as she had anticipated, dragged by—apart from the relief of a handful of brief phone calls from Cam when he was between meetings—Stacie started off the new week with the challenge of entering expense claims on the computer system. The task itself was simple—the challenge came from coping with the mind-numbing boredom combined with the frustrating slowness of the system.
At first she put it down to that Monday-morning feeling, but as the day continued the uncomfortable feeling in her chest became more and more painful and simply breathing required a greater effort. By early afternoon, Stacie was ready to head for home but she struggled on, determined to get through the stacks of receipts so she wouldn’t have to face more of the same the next day.
When she left the office at the usual time, having mentioned to her manager in passing that she didn’t feel one hundred percent, Stacie headed straight for home and bed, convinced that all she needed was a good night’s sleep and she’d be fine the next day. When she arrived at her apartment and all but collapsed on the sofa, she finally had to concede, however, that what she had wasn’t some silly little virus. She’d only had flu once in her life before, and as ill as she was, she had no choice but to accept that she’d caught it for a second time.
Frozen to the core, Stacie huddled under the duvet. After making it to the bedroom, every joint in her body ached. Her head hurt, her throat was sore and although she was exhausted after the journey home from the office, she couldn’t get to sleep because she could barely breathe.
Feeling sick wasn’t helping either. She’d only just made it to the bathroom in time, and even though she was sure there was nothing left to throw up, she was still queasy.
If she’d had the energy, Stacie would have been calling herself all the names under the sun. Jen still wouldn’t be back for a few days yet, but even if she hadn’t been away, Stacie couldn’t have called her friend to ask her to go to the pharmacy for something to alleviate the symptoms—the pitfalls of not having a landline phone and relying on a mobile. All it took was leaving the damn thing in her desk drawer, and she was cut off from the outside world. She’d just have to tough it out.
Please let me sleep. If only she could sleep through it—or at least the worst of it. Her stomach was in no mood to let her, though. Her tortured body barely made it to the bathroom for yet another session of dry heaving, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she filled a glass with water afterwards. A few sips soothed her parched mouth and throat, but almost immediately her stomach rebelled again.
Stacie crawled back to bed. She didn’t need a thermometer to know that she had a fever. In her single-minded determination to get home, she’d omitted to pick up anything that might have helped with the symptoms and now she was paying for it. Already wearing pyjamas, a sweater and two pairs of socks, she pulled on her dressing gown and burrowed under the duvet again.
“Cam.”
She whispered his name as if it were a talisman, something she could use to keep the worst of what she was feeling at bay. Logic told her that the illness would pass, but there was a part of her that was convinced she’d never feel warm again.
~~*~~
Stuck in Edinburgh for five days of meetings with both domestic and foreign clients, all arranged around a security conference where he’d agreed to address the attendees on one of the latest hot topics in the field, Cam had missed Stacie more than he’d thought possible. Next time he was away on a trip like this, she was going with him.
On the final day, when he came out of his last meeting, the first thing he did was try her number again, and again it went straight to voicemail. There’d been no problem over the weekend, not unless he counted the number and duration of the meetings he’d attended, half of which had been unscheduled. It wasn’t so much the meetings themselves as the knock-on effect of limiting his opportunities to talk to his sub. Consequently, to compensate, he’d called her whenever he had the opportunity, but since the last call on Sunday evening, it had been an entirely different story.
On Monday the phone had rung and rung with no reply, eventually going to voicemail, a situation that had continued through the following morning, but ever since the previous afternoon his calls had gone straight through to voicemail without ringing out first. Initially he hadn’t been too concerned that Stacie hadn’t answered her mobile—he’d rung during office hours so she was probably working, but when he’d called from the hotel in the evening, after the business dinner, there was still no reply. From there it had gone steadily downhill.
He didn’t know whether to be angry, worried or both.
Thank God he was flying back tonight. The first thing he was going to do, once he got back to London, was to go straight to her apartment and find out what the hell was going on. The second thing was to find out her work phone number and put it in his contacts list.
Why he hadn’t done that before now, he didn’t know—he didn’t even know where she worked, one of many oversights for which he was now cursing himself. What the fuck had come over him? Being in love had completely addled his brain—he should have had a complete mental dossier on her long before now, known where she worked, who her friends were, how to contact them. Overdosing on sex probably hadn’t helped either.
At least he was on the shuttle flight and not driving back. With luck, he could be at Stacie’s by seven that evening.
Thankfully, the plane departed on time and kept to its schedule. Having collected his hold luggage, Cam headed straight for the business car park and then he was on his way back to the city, making more attempts to get through to Stacie via the hands-free kit in the car.
No joy.
Within an hour the Jaguar was parked outside her building. The light on in the window indic
ated that she was probably home. Cam gave her mobile number one more fruitless try and then went in, slipping unannounced through the main door as another resident was leaving.
On a surge of adrenaline, he went up the stairs two at a time and knocked forcefully on Stacie’s door, calling her name—no reply, and no suggestion that there was anyone there to make a reply.
His mouth set in a grim line, Cam looked at the lock, one eyebrow raised in a combination of gratitude for its flimsiness and uneasiness for exactly the same reason. She’d better have a couple of deadbolts backing up this piece of crap. He picked it in under ten seconds and prepared to break the door down.
When it opened effortlessly under his hand, he made a mental note to do two things—the first was to give her security measures a thorough overhaul and the second, which would give him infinitely more satisfaction, was to turn her over his knee and deliver a suitable punishment for having such a cavalier attitude towards her personal safety.
“Cam, how did you get in?” Stacie was clinging to the door frame for support, having just about made it to the bedroom door in time to see him appear in front of her.
“You need better security on your front door—a ninety-eight-year-old great-grandmother could get in here without breaking a sweat. Stacie? Whoa, come here!”
Cam swept her up in his arms just before her knees buckled under her. “Stace, you look like crap—what’s wrong?”
She shivered in spite of the heat radiating from Cam’s body. “Flu. That’s why I couldn’t get to the door before you broke in. Can’t get warm. You need to go or you’ll get it too.”
“Fuck that. You need someone to look after you. Let’s get you back into bed and take it from there.”
He tucked her in, under a heap of sheets and blankets piled on top of her usual duvet. Through tired, bleary eyes, she watched him as he moved around to the empty side of the bed and began to shed his clothes. “What are you doing now, Cam?”
“Getting you warm, honey.” Naked, he slipped into bed beside her and then pulled her against the delicious heat of his body.
“Cam, go home. You’re going to get it, too.”
“So you said,” he observed dryly. “There’s not a cat in hell’s chance I’ll get it. Now stay close and get some sleep.”
She’d been like this for over two days now—two days of feeling like death. It felt like a lot longer, though, and as yet there was no end in sight. She’d tried to sleep through most of it and had been only partially successful. Until now.
Warmth was finally seeping through her frozen body—the source of that heat shifted slightly, bringing more of his body into contact with hers, and it was that contact, as much as the change in temperature, that was finally causing her to drift towards a more restful sleep.
Soft words came from behind her. The cotton wool inside her head prevented her from making sense of them, but there was no mistaking the comfort and care in the tone and in the arms wrapped tightly around her.
Cam Fraser wasn’t a miracle cure for the flu, but he was certainly one hell of a way of alleviating the symptoms. Her lips curved into a slight smile as his presence lulled her into peaceful sleep.
He could tell by her breathing the exact moment when Stacie finally fell asleep. Judging by the shadows under her eyes when he’d first seen her, it looked like this was the first time she’d been able to rest properly for however long she’d been laid low—potentially a good couple of days, if this was the reason he hadn’t been able to get through to her on the phone.
Cam’s worry and frustration had evaporated the moment he’d seen that she was all right—relatively speaking. He’d never imagined that it was something as simple as the flu that had got in the way.
She needed someone to take care of her. She needed him. Until this moment, Cam hadn’t realised just how much he disliked the fact that she was living alone. Solitude was all well and good—he lived a largely solitary life himself—but when something went wrong, like this, it brought home just how vulnerable it made someone like Stacie.
He was going to take better care of his sub. Perhaps it was time to start guiding this relationship to the next level. Three days of not being able to contact this incredible woman had taught him one thing above all else, and that was how necessary to him she was. And when she was well again…perhaps it was time to pay their first visit to Aegis as a couple, so that she could absorb the atmosphere and get an idea of what it was truly like there.
But that was for later—for now what Stacie needed more than anything else was something to help with the flu symptoms. With the utmost care, he left her asleep in bed and quickly dressed. There was a late-night chemist a couple of miles away—he could be there and back before she knew he’d gone.
It was a good theory and might have worked out, had it not taken forever to buy what he needed at the pharmacy, which seemed to be full of people suffering from the same thing as Stacie.
Having had the foresight to take her keys with him, he let himself back into the apartment, and the moment he closed the door behind him his keen hearing picked up on the sound of hushed sobbing. What the…? He deposited his purchases on the coffee table and hurried to the bedroom.
Stacie was still in bed, but curled into a ball, quietly weeping. The sound tore his heart out.
“Stace? Are you all right? What’s wrong? Tell me.”
He went to the bed and gathered her in his arms, rocking back and forth while she calmed down.
“I woke up and you weren’t here. I thought you’d gone,” she croaked. “Or I’d dreamed you and you hadn’t really been here at all. God, I’m sorry—this is so pathetic.”
Not pathetic—she was tired, she was sick, her resistance was low, and it just made things seem a hell of a lot worse than they really were.
“Honey, I know this is stating the bloody obvious, but you’re not well. Just let me take care of you, all right?”
Cam liked the way she was resting her head against his shoulder—she was just where she belonged. “I’d have been back sooner, but it seems like half the city has the flu at the moment and most of them were in the queue ahead of me. Let’s get you back into bed, honey.”
Her pale face suddenly flushed with colour. “Umm, I need the bathroom first.”
Without further ceremony, he lifted her into his arms and took her to her requested destination. “Take your time, baby. Where do you keep the bed linen? I’ll change the bed while you’re in here.”
He was done by the time he heard the bathroom door open again. He turned and saw her leaning against the doorway, looking totally drained of energy. She made no demur when he carried her back to the bed and settled her under the covers, sitting up with the bank of pillows at her back.
“How do you feel?”
“Like death warmed over.” She looked up at him. “Thank you for looking after me. You don’t have to stay, you know. You must be so tired.”
Cam sat on the edge of the bed. He was tired, yes, but not so tired he couldn’t take care of what was important to him. “You might as well stop trying to get rid of me, honey, because it’s not going to happen. I’m going to make you one of those foul-tasting drinks, so we’ll see if we can get you feeling a little less crappy, and then I’m going to make you something to eat. Is there anything special I can get for you?”
She shook her head. “I’m not hungry. I haven’t been able to keep anything down anyway. But you must be starving—if there’s anything you fancy, please help yourself.”
Cam laid his hand against her cheek, looking straight into her weary eyes. “What I fancy isn’t in the kitchen.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “You just rest and get better. I’m here to take care of you now, and I’ll be here for as long as it takes. Would you like some music, or maybe we can find a film to watch?”
She thought for a moment. “A film. That would be really nice.”
A short while later, Cam was back in bed beside Stacie. She’d finished her dr
ink and until a few minutes ago, had been watching the film with him. Now, though, she was asleep again, nestled against him with his arm around her. The rightness of the situation could tempt a man into weaving all sorts of fantasies for the future.
Instead, though, he focused his attention on the here and now, and the practicalities of the fact that Stacie needed him. She was breathing a little more easily, he thought, and didn’t seem to be quite so feverish. And by far the most important thing, she was sleeping. Not such a bad idea.
Cam yawned. Between one thing and another it had been a long day and he was ready for some sleep himself. He switched off the reading light and the television, and then very carefully, so as not to disturb Stacie, made himself comfortable beside her.
~~*~~
A couple of days later Stacie was feeling considerably better, although Cam—who had remained at her apartment for the duration of her illness—refused to let her return to work too soon. He was still there at the weekend, when an unexpected visitor seemed hell-bent on testing the door buzzer to destruction. His best guess was that it was the mysterious Jen, and if looks could kill, the one she gave Cam when he opened the door to her might easily have planted him six feet under.
“Jen!”
Stacie’s happy greeting confirmed his suspicions. He watched the two women hug, which gave him the opportunity, albeit a brief one, to form a first impression of his sub’s best friend.
What she lacked in height, she made up for with the explosive force of her personality. Objectively she was very attractive, although not his type. A curtain of shining jet-black hair, poker-straight, fell to beyond her waist, creating a truly stunning image. It was so perfect that for a moment he wondered if it was a wig, before dismissing the thought as a product of his professional imagination. Her ivory complexion provided the perfect setting for her green eyes and rose-tinted lips, and with a figure comprised of a slender waist and hips and remarkably generous breasts, he could see her appealing to either Dylan Baxter or Conor Devlin—two members of his team who seemed to share an extraordinarily similar taste in women, going by what he knew of their romantic exploits.
Love Is Danger (Club Aegis Book 3) Page 16
