He winced against the daylight, and his words sounded as if they’d passed through a wood chipper on the way out. His face (sporting a sexy five o’clock shadow) was flushed—and did his eyes seem a little glassy?
Uh-oh. She reached out for his forehead. “Oh boy, I thinkyou’re sick, Liam. You should go to the doctor. I have a good one I can—”
“It’s just a cold. Sorry I didn’t call, but we’d better pass on the line reading so I can save my strength for this afternoon.”
He seemed about ready to drop. “Liam, you might have the flu or something. We should call Simone.”
“I’ll make it to set. Gotta keep the film on schedule.”
According to the statistics she’d read about the daily cost of filming, delays could wreak havoc on the budget. “Have you eaten this morning? Let me come in and make something for you.”
“You don’t have to do that.” He wavered in the doorway.
“Let me in, Liam.”
He didn’t seem to have any fight left in him as he opened the door wider.
She grabbed the kitty crate and stepped around him. “Take a load off. I’ll go see what’s in the kitchen. Have you taken anything for that fever?”
“I don’t have anything. And it’s just a cold.”
“Right. Feveranddelusions.” She kept Tylenol in her purse. And she’d get him his allergy med while she was at it.
Awhooshsounded as he hit the sofa. He sounded so weak, poor baby. She scanned the contents of his fridge. Wow, she could cook him a feast with the ingredients in this thing. Well, if she could cook, that was.
She spotted the antihistamine on the counter. So she poured him a glass of orange juice, shook out the allergy med and Tylenol, and brought them into the living room. He was sprawled on the leather sofa, eyes closed. Buttercup had made a nest of his bare chest.
The cat cut her a look.Jealous?
Chloe waggled her head at the feline.
“Here you go.” She handed Liam the juice and he downed the meds in one gulp. “I should’ve taken your temp before you drankthat. Though your rental probably doesn’t come equipped with one.” She laid the back of her hand to his forehead. “You’re pretty hot.”
Humor flickered in his glazed eyes. “Thanks.”
Her own skin flushed as she pulled her hand away. “I mean you have a temperature. Jeez, the ego on you.”
His lips tilted a bit as his eyes fluttered closed.
She headed back to the kitchen. “How do scrambled eggs sound?” Since he had plenty of eggs and also since it was one of the five dishes she’d mastered.
“’Kay.”
Chloe put a small skillet on the stove and got cracking on the eggs. Despite his denial he was clearly in the throes of the flu or something equally insidious. It could take a week or more before he’d have the energy to work. The setback on the film wouldn’t be ideal. She itched to call Simone and give her the heads-up, but that wasn’t her place.
When Chloe was finished cracking eggs, she searched for a whisk and found it in a drawer. It should feel strange, bumping around his kitchen when she’d known him such a short time. And also because he was Liam Hamilton. She gave her head a shake. Sometimes that still hit her out of the blue.
I’m in Liam Hamilton’s house. I’m taking care of Liam Hamilton while he’s sick.
It was just that he was so down-to-earth, he made her forget he was a big-time celebrity. Until, yeah, the paparazzi came nosing around and the gossip sites posted pictures of them. But other than that, he was sort of an ordinary guy.
A very hot ordinary guy, but still.
The eggs all whipped up, she poured them into a sizzling pan and worked them around the skillet until they were cooked through. She opted against cheese since his stomach might not be ready for that.
She divided the eggs onto two plates, but when she entered the living room, Liam was sound asleep.
Chloe glanced at Liam still sleeping soundly on the sofa. She hadn’t awakened him to eat since he needed his rest. Instead, she’d eaten her eggs, then sat quietly in the armchair, immersed in an e-book she’d downloaded a while back and hadn’t found time to read.
