I meet his gaze briefly as he sets me on top of the toilet lid. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but you should keep your distance. I must have the flu. Or maybe food poisoning.” Did I even have dinner last night? I tilt my head back against the cool bathroom wall. That feels nice.
He squeezes my shoulder. “I’ll be fine. Do you feel steady enough for me to run and grab you some water?”
I nod, then close my eyes. I should not move any part of me.
A cabinet door squeaks, then water rushes from the kitchen faucet.
When he returns with a glass of cool water, I fight the urge to chug the whole thing down. I force myself to sip slowly, allowing the liquid to settle in my unhappy stomach. Once I finish, Kellin rescues the cup from my wobbly hand.
He rears back and studies me, his arms crossed over his tattooed chest. “You should call your assistant and tell her you’re sick.”
I start to shake my head, stopping with a wince when the entire room oscillates. “Can’t. I’m way too busy.”
“I’m not so sure you have a choice, darlin’.”
I scoff, though with my thickened tongue, the noise sounds more like a hiss. “What am I supposed to say? ‘I can’t work today because I’m too hungover to walk. But don’t worry about me, Len, because I have a beautiful naked manservant at my beck and call.’”
Wait, did he call me darlin’ again?
A smile briefly lifts Kellin’s lips before they dip back into that almost-frown.
My chest tightens. “Oh, no, do you feel sick too?”
“No, I’m okay.”
His expression still strikes me as…wrong. As if he’s ill but not with whatever’s afflicting me. Tight lines pinch the skin around his eyes, and his lips thin into a severe line.
Maybe he’s worried. Or maybe he finds my attempts at sickbed humor annoying.
Kellin leaves and returns with a damp washcloth that he holds against my forehead.
“Best nursemaid ever.”
Did I say that out loud? Who knows.
My body sways unpleasantly. He’s right about informing Lenora. No way can I function like this.
I lean into him, resting my cheek on his shoulder. “Can you… I think I may need help showering.”
Without a word, Kellin helps me up, accompanying me into the walk-in shower.
He starts the water while I sit on the bench with my head sagging against the tile wall.
I huff a laugh. “When you pictured us showering together, I bet this isn’t what you had in mind.”
Kellin rotates the showerhead so the spray trickles over me. “Not exactly. But I’m not complaining.”
The warm, wonderful water cascades down my breasts, stomach, and legs.
Kellin kneels in front of me, gently running a soapy cloth over my skin.
His eyes, intent and focused, stay on his work. More flutters kick up behind my ribs.
I hope this is a sneak peek of heaven.
A girl can dream anyway.
“If you can bend forward a little, I can wash and rinse your hair too.”
