by Nina Crespo
“I don’t know.” A long pause followed. “It could be the sandwich I had earlier. And don’t you dare say I told you so.”
He held back those exact words. “Let’s give it ten minutes. If you’re feeling stable, you should go to bed and rest.”
Aiden walked back to the living room. He got dressed, grabbed his phone from underneath the couch, and set the timer app for ten minutes. Like he gave a damn if he’d actually made the right call about the sandwich. All he cared about was Delanie’s welfare.
He walked back into the bedroom.
Her moans of discomfort greeted him. “Oh please, kill me now.”
Aiden paced. “I’m calling for a doctor.”
“No, don’t do that. Once this is over, I’ll have some ginger ale. I’m fine.”
“I don’t think you are.”
“Stop telling me what I am or am not.”
Why was she being so damn stubborn? “The effects of food poisoning can be serious.”
“I’m fi—”
From the sounds coming from the bathroom, she clearly wasn’t.
Aiden pulled out his phone and dialed the front desk.
eleven
A LITTLE OVER an hour after her bathroom episode, Delanie sat propped against the headboard in the bedroom of her suite with a digital thermometer probe in her mouth.
Dr. Linda Velazquez’s green eyes narrowed as she studied the readout module she held in her hand.
Delanie’s stomach gurgled underneath her oversized blue sleepshirt. She hadn’t thrown up in a while, but her head was starting to pound and her whole body ached.
The thermometer beeped.
Dr. Velazquez removed it from Delanie’s mouth and dropped the disposable probe cover into a wastebasket near the bed. She dropped the unit into her black medical bag on the chair that she’d dragged over to the side of the bed. She then checked Delanie’s throat.
Delanie swallowed. “Will I feel better once the bad food is out of my system?”
Dr. Velazquez shook her head. The ends of her dark brown hair brushed the shoulders of her short gray blazer. “I’m not a hundred percent convinced it’s food poisoning.” She stepped into the bathroom, washed her hands, and came back out. “The symptoms you wrote down on the intake form, and what I’m observing, add up to something that looks more like the start of a stomach virus. One that’s been making the rounds. The worst of it hits in twenty-four to forty-eight hours. I’d need lab tests for a definitive answer. By any chance, did you get a flu shot this year?”
“No, I didn’t.” Delanie settled back on the pillows. Edison had put it on her schedule but she’d skipped it since she’d been so busy.
“Well, I’d suggest you move it to the top of your list, especially if you travel a lot.”
“So, what happens now? Will you give me an antibiotic?”
“No. I’m prescribing an analgesic for pain, along with plenty of fluids, and a clear diet. Most important of all, I’m prescribing bed rest.”
“Can you give me something for nausea?” Delanie moved to sit up but fatigue made her sink back on the pillows. “I’m flying to Seattle in the morning.”
“That’s not a good idea. Your blood pressure is slightly low. You’re most likely dehydrated.” Dr. Velazquez ticked off symptoms one by one on her fingers. “And your temperature is slightly elevated. Not to mention you need rest in general. You’re run-down. Plain old exhaustion can make this even worse.” She shook her head. “There will be ill people in the airport and on the plane. Seven hours or more in that environment, you’re just asking for trouble. Enjoy the downtime here. Let your boyfriend take care of you.”
“Aiden’s not my boyfriend. He’s just an acquaintance.”
The doctor’s lips formed an O. “Sorry. From the way he’s pacing the living room, I’d assumed he was close to you.”
Aiden was still hanging around? “All right, I’ll change my flight to the day after tomorrow, then.”
Dr. Velazquez chuckled as she moved her bag from the chair to the bedside table. She sat in the chair. “You are persistent, but a bad virus can be even more stubborn. The next twenty-four hours are critical. If we can bring your temperature down and you can tolerate juice, broth, and then some light foods later on—good. Still, you shouldn’t push yourself to get up too soon.”
“How long do you want me to rest?”
“Ideally, the rest of the week.”
“But I have to go home to Seattle. I have a business to run.”
“Running a business is the least of your worries at the moment. Getting better should be your main priority.” Dr. Velazquez glanced around the room. “This isn’t a bad place to be sick. It’s much nicer than an emergency room or a stay at the hospital. That’s exactly where you’ll end up if you’re worse by the time my nurse checks on you in the morning, or later on, if you don’t take care of yourself. These viruses have a tendency to fool you into thinking you’re better when you’re not. The best way to prevent that is to slow down, take the time off, and have someone look after you.”
Like who? Delanie sank back against the pillows. It wasn’t like she had family she could lean on back home. Her friends had families of their own to look after, and Edison’s job was to hold things down at the office, not babysit her.
Dr. Velazquez removed her computer tablet from the bag and flipped it open. “Your acquaintance seems willing to help you. If you’re comfortable with him doing that, let him.” Dr. Velazquez tapped on the screen and brought up a patient confidentiality form. “Check the box and I can share the treatment plan with him.”
Delanie stared at the form. Dr. Velazquez was right. At the hotel, she had housekeeping, room service . . . and Aiden.
Loneliness engulfed her along with bone-weary achiness. “All right.” She checked the box.
Aiden dropped the pieces of the broken vase into a trash can in the kitchen. He sat down on the couch, but then less than a minute later, unable to keep still, he sprang back up.
The doctor had arrived over thirty minutes ago to check out Delanie. Shouldn’t they have finished by now? He should have insisted she not eat that damn sandwich. By some strange miracle, maybe she would have listened to him.
His phone rang. He snagged it from the coffee table. King. Aiden paused in tapping the ignore icon, but then again, King would keep calling and texting for the promised update on the status of the negotiations for Echo Pines until he picked up. “Hey.”
“So? Did you talk to her yet?” What sounded like rushing wind came through on King’s end, as if he was walking and talking on his cell.
“She’s sick.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“It might be food poisoning.”
“Please tell me it wasn’t from the food at the restaurant in our hotel? That’s the last thing I need right now.”
“No.” Aiden dropped down on the couch. “It was food from someplace else.”
“At least something is going our way. Are you sure she’s not just blowing you off to get out of talking about Echo?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. She spent time kneeling in front of the porcelain god.”
“Is that what she told you? How do you know that’s true? She could be bluffing to get rid of you, you know.”
Aiden rubbed his hand over his buzz cut. Answering King’s questions would just lead to more questions he didn’t want to deal with right now. “King, can you just back off for a second? We’ll regroup on Echo Pines once she’s well.”
“Fine.” King released a long breath. “But maybe this is an opportunity. If Delanie’s that sick, she might not leave right away, and that gives you another shot at convincing her to give our offer priority consideration. That would also give me time to find investors who are willing to go in on Echo Pines with us. I’ll do some digging into Delanie’s background too.”
“Don’t.”
“But maybe there’s something we can use to our advantage.”
“We’r
e not Dad. We don’t manipulate people.” Rumor had it, Gerard kept files on people, even on his sons, with information he could leverage to his advantage.
“Whoa. Hold on. I meant information on her business experience and history as a negotiator. I’m not interested in blackmailing her.”
“Don’t go digging around in her life. Period. I mean it. She already believes I’m trying to influence her decisions. Whatever I find out about Delanie, she’ll tell me on her own.”
The sound of the bedroom door opening and closing prompted Aiden to walk toward the hall.
Dr. Velazquez smiled at him.
A small measure of relief opened inside of Aiden. She wasn’t rushing Delanie to the hospital. That was a good sign. “I have to go.”
“Aiden?” King called out over the phone.
“What?” He met the doctor’s gaze and raised a finger asking her to give him a moment.
“Are you good?” King asked.
Aiden heard the unspoken part of the question. King wanted to know if he could handle being around Delanie and do his job. Having sex with her had probably already complicated things, but he and Delanie would address that issue, along with Echo Pines, when she got better.
“Yeah. I’m good. I’ve got to go. I’ll keep you posted.” Aiden ended the call without waiting for King’s response and focused on Dr. Velazquez. “How is she? Is it food poisoning?”
“She’s sicker than she wants to admit. What she ate earlier tonight may have made her sick, but I believe she’s in the early stages of a stomach virus, and she’s also pretty worn down as it is. I’d like for her to stay in bed and rest until the end of the week, but for that to happen, she needs someone to encourage her to take it easy and look after her. Can you manage that?”
Make Delanie obey his instructions? That wouldn’t be an easy task. “I’ll give it my best shot.”
Dr. Velazquez gave him care instructions and a list of over-the-counter medications for Delanie.
He led the doctor out of the suite and then went to the bedroom.
Delanie gave him a look as she snuggled farther under the covers. “You should keep your distance. I’m probably contagious.”
“We’ve already swapped saliva. I’m pretty sure it’s too late to worry about that.” He dropped into the chair beside the bed. “I’ll take my chances.”
“Will you stop staring at me? I look a mess.”
Even with her tousled hair and a slight pallor to her skin, she was still his Delanie. No, actually, she wasn’t his anymore. Some guy named Marquette was in her life. Or used to be, anyway. What was the story on him?
Aiden leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “You’ll have to get used to me looking at you. I promised Dr. Velazquez that I’d keep you in bed for the rest of the week.” Admittedly, after what they’d shared earlier, he’d have preferred to do it in a different way.
Color bloomed on Delanie’s cheeks and she looked away from him. “Thank you.”
“Do you want me to call anyone?”
“I can do it.”
Aiden retrieved her phone from the living room, handed it to her, then left to give her privacy. He walked to the French doors and glanced out the window. At nearly eleven p.m. traffic had thinned out to just a few cars speeding down the street.
Delanie’s voice carried into the living room. “Edison. It’s me . . .”
Edison? Who the hell was he? Delanie didn’t have a husband, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t some other guy in her life.
Over the phone, he heard Delanie ask Edison to rebook her flight. Earlier, the misery she felt from getting sick had been evident in her voice, but now her decisive, confident tone reflected none of that suffering. No doubt, Delanie was definitely in charge, even if she was bedridden for the next few days. She probably kicked ass running her company. Pride swelled inside of him. He never had any doubts she’d succeed.
She ended the call.
He went back into the bedroom.
Delanie put her phone on the nightstand. “You also don’t have to stick around all night. I’m sure you’re busy. You shouldn’t expose yourself to me any more than you already have. Like I said before, I’m probably contagious. I’ll call you if I need anything.”
“It’s not a problem. I’m on vacation.”
“Negotiating contracts on a weekend instead of hanging out on some beach—that’s your idea of a vacation?”
“Actually, I was at the Mazarine Resort in Miami until Beth’s e-mail popped up in King’s inbox and he asked me to handle it.”
“You guys were the ones who insisted on a weekend meeting.”
“The e-mail warranted action.”
“Yeah, I bet it did.” She huffed a laugh. “Just like you sabotaging my hotel reservation.”
“Seriously? You want to get into that now?” Crook . . . saboteur. What other crimes were on her list about him? Don’t forget liar. The jab from his conscience made Aiden involuntarily wince. That’s what she’d called him earlier, before they’d had sex.
She punched and fluffed the pillows before she lay down. “How did you find me?”
“You mentioned staying in Atlanta. I commandeered two of the interns who work for our business advisors and had them call around until they located you.”
“Isn’t that nice? You interrupted some underpaid person’s weekend to find me.”
“I’m giving them a bonus.”
“Did you also pay off the manager at the Piedmont?”
“No, Tanner is a friend, and believe it or not, his hotel actually was overbooked. Honestly, it was a toss-up between moving a chaperone from one of the cheerleading teams staying at the hotel or someone else. You actually made life easier for everyone. From what he told me, the chaperones were already stressed. Having one of them staying at another hotel would have made things harder for them. And now you don’t have to deal with floors full of screaming teenagers. Now, do I get to ask questions or am I the only one being interrogated?”
“It’s not an interrogation.” During her pause, Delanie turned her attention to toying with a loose string on the comforter. “What do you want to know?”
“How do you know Beth Granger?”
“She’s the daughter of one of my former mother-in-law’s clients.”
“Is Edison your ex-husband?”
“No. My assistant.” Sadness flickered in Delanie’s eyes.
What if the guy had died? Shit. He hadn’t considered that. Why hadn’t she said something earlier? It was clearly too painful for her to talk about, even with him. Aiden went to retract the question, but Delanie interrupted.
“I’m divorced, but what you and I did earlier—that won’t happen again.”
Straight sex, nothing else. After we’re done, you leave. That’s what she’d said.
Aiden sat back in the chair. He’d gone along with it, but sex always enhanced their deeper connection. It was still there. Delanie wouldn’t have given herself to him if she didn’t trust him just a little. When he’d witnessed the sheer ecstasy on her face and felt her come apart around him, he’d already made up his mind about the rest of the night. He’d planned to exploit every one of her weaknesses with his mouth and his cock to wipe from her mind the bogus strategy of sending him away.
Now he was still there, and even though it wasn’t in the way he’d wanted, she was sick and the priority was taking care of her. “It’s late. Get some rest.” Aiden stood. “I have to make a run to get the medicine the doctor prescribed. I’m taking your key card so I can get back in. I’m sleeping on the couch in the living room.”
“You don’t have to sleep out there.”
“So you’re willing to share the bed? You said you were contagious.” He winked.
Her brows shot up. “I didn’t mean you should sleep here with me. Go back to your suite.”
“Nope. Couch it is. Get used to it.” He kissed her furrowed brow. “Good night, Delanie.”
twelve
TH
REE DAYS LATER, Delanie pulled the sheet over her head as she lay in bed. She’d take anything to get rid of Aiden—a surprise zit on her nose, the tequila hangover of death, eighteen bad hair days—it would all be worth it just to get some peace.
The medicine the doctor had prescribed made her sleepy, but every time she woke up, Aiden was there, giving her water, handing her more pills, or hovering just outside the bedroom, waiting for her to come out of the bathroom and get back into bed.
But even in a drugged haze, she couldn’t ignore the obvious about him. Yesterday, he’d brought her lunch after he’d gone for a run. The black running tights and matching long-sleeved workout shirt he’d worn had molded to his torso and legs. He’d smelled like sweat—the good kind that made her want to run her hands all over him and grab his solid-looking ass.
Delanie glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table. He was usually in her room by eight thirty sharp, reminding her not to exert herself and stay in bed. It was almost nine. Was Aiden still working out? This was her chance to take an extra-long shower without him banging on the door, checking on her. Just as she swept back the covers, he walked in the bedroom, shirtless, carrying a breakfast tray.
“Good morning. Sorry, I overslept.” Heavy lids emphasized his hazel eyes. A morning beard framed the angles of his face. Black sweatpants rode low on his hips. As he leaned down to place the tray of food on her lap, warmth radiated from him, along with the faint scent of his spicy cologne.
No one wore just-woke-up sexy like he did. When they were together, snuggling had been her favorite thing to do with him in bed. Okay, maybe her second favorite.
He stood and rested a hand on his hip. From the shape of his cock, that bad boy was roaming free. “How are you feeling?”
Feverish and in need of an orgasm—stat.
“Better.”
“Good.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “If you need me, I’ll be in the shower in the spare bathroom.”
A memory she couldn’t stop roared in. Aiden in the shower at Clearmount. Head thrown back, with soap suds gliding down his shoulders, winding through the muscles of his torso and down his muscular legs as water sluiced over him.
