NATHAN BURROWED DEEPER underneath the covers. A vicious shiver rolled through his body. After riding it out, he turned on his side and curled into a ball. The pounding in his head was relentless. How could someone be cold and hot at the same time? The comforter stifled him, but removing it was unthinkable. Another shiver went through him, ending with his teeth chattering. This was probably as close to dying as someone could get.
How pathetic was it that he’d come down with a summer cold the second they arrived in Rome? And right when he needed to work! Mrs. Grant was expecting that new proposal. His career couldn’t go down in flames when it hadn’t even really started yet. To make matters worse, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d gotten sick. Ugh! He coughed into a fist. Damn. The universe must truly hate me.
His body hurt like a wrecking ball had hit him. As much as he wanted to climb out of bed and start on a new plan, he couldn’t. He groaned as another wave of shivers racked his body. The inside of his throat felt like barbed wire was being wrapped along its walls. Each cough hurt.
Rolling to his other side, he pushed himself to a seated position. He had to suck it up. Just because he was sick didn’t mean he couldn’t put something together. Maybe he could even send one of the ideas he had banked as a contingency. But the second his bare feet hit the tile, a sudden wave of dizziness had him falling back into bed.
Five minutes. Yeah. He’d just take a nap for five minutes. Just until the spinning of the room stopped.
* * *
A cool sensation on his forehead woke Nathan in stages. The wooziness had subsided, but his body still felt like a ton of bricks sat on top of him. A menthol scent permeated the air he breathed in. It felt nice going into his lungs. The barbed wire still clung to the insides of his throat, but something eased the scratchiness there too. Maybe he was delirious from fever, but it felt as if he was starting to get better. A miracle! He might just make the deadline after all.
Then the cool something left his forehead. He moaned, his eyebrows coming together in displeasure. Water splashed from somewhere, and then the coolness returned. He sighed. He had his eyes closed the entire time. A little more of this and he would be well enough to plan a hundred parties. Which reminded him, his in-box must be clogged with several unanswered e-mails by now. He really needed an assistant on the ground in case he still wasn’t well enough to fly. But he could worry about that later. First, he had to get well. Fast.
The mattress springs squeaked. Gentle fingers combed through his hair. He reached up to his savior and brought the hand to his cheek.
“Whoever this is, I owe you one,” he whispered.
“I think we’re even,” said the calm, clear voice he would recognize anywhere.
A mix of happiness and anxiety filled his chest. Preston. He had followed all of Nathan’s instructions and was helping him get better. The thought awakened flutters of pleasure in his belly.
“Not even two weeks in and already breaking down on me.” Preston tsked. “That’s a new level of sad.”
“I’m sorry.”
“If you’re well enough to start apologizing for something out of your control, then you’re well enough to eat and drink something. We have to get your fever down.” A strong arm eased beneath his shoulders. “Can you sit up?”
Nathan had meant everything he’d said. He really was sorry for getting sick, and by extension forcing Preston to stay at the apartment instead of exploring such a beautiful city. This vacation was for him. Nathan silently vowed to make up for it.
Using what little strength he had, he opened his eyes and pushed himself up into a seated position. With sure-handed efficiency, Preston plumped pillows behind him. Nathan waited for the onslaught of nausea, but none came. Not letting his guard down, though, he leaned his head back against the padded headboard. Preston removed the washcloth from his forehead and hung it over the lip of a ceramic water bowl. Then he busied himself with preparing the medication. He picked up a pill and a glass of water and handed both to Nathan.
First was the pill, which he dutifully placed into his mouth. Without waiting, he took the glass and downed its contents. Of course, it was like drinking broken shards, but he gritted his teeth through it and focused on healing thoughts.
“I’ll give you another one in four hours. If your fever doesn’t go down by then, it’s a trip to the emergency room for you.” Preston poked his forehead playfully.
“Thank you,” Nathan sighed out. “There was a second there when I thought I was going to die.”
His nurse treated him to an eye roll. “My mother will just bring you back from the dead so you can finish planning that damn party.”
No need to be thinking about that right then, so he sniffed the air and changed the topic. “I see you found a humidifier.”
“After putting you to bed, I went to the pharmacy and bought everything you listed. I had to go to a special store for the humidifier.” He pointed across the room at the small, boxlike machine that was puffing out steam. Then he fussed over the little setup he had on the nightstand. Besides the bowl and cloth, he had menthol ointment Nathan recognized as something his mother used to rub on his chest when he was sick. A part of him wondered if he should ask Preston to do the same. The saner part focused on the other things on the table: a bottle of cough syrup and a couple more ibuprofen tablets.
Seeing Preston care for him with the determination he showed when he trained made Nathan want to faint from the extreme emotions coursing through him. If he’d thought he loved Preston before, that feeling had multiplied by a thousand. How could he let Preston go without at least trying for something more?
“I never get sick,” he grumbled, diverting his thoughts to safer avenues.
“I think the change in weather is what brought you down.”
Nathan frowned, considering. “It was considerably chilly in Ireland for this time of year, then super humid here.”
“You’ll be up and about in no time.” One corner of Preston’s lips lifted. “The soup’s ready. I’ll go get some. You must be starving.”
“You cooked for me?” Nathan’s eyebrows shot up.
“I thought I’d dust off the summer cooking lessons,” Preston replied with an uneasy laugh. “The store-bought soup just isn’t good enough. Is chicken noodle good for you? If you want something else, I can go to the store and grab ingredients.”
Definitely swoon-worthy. “Chicken noodle is fine.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Ten minutes later, Nathan brought a heaping spoonful of the soup to his mouth despite the war zone in his throat. Preston had gone out of his way to cook for him. The least he could do was eat every last drop. Even if he winced with each swallow.
“It’s not too hot, is it?” Preston asked.
Nathan closed his mouth around another spoonful and chewed on the carrot bits mixed in with the broth, then swallowed and winced. “No. I love it. I wish you’d cook for me more.”
His lips wobbled as if he was trying to suppress a smile. “I should let you rest.”
Nathan wanted to ask him to stay, he really did. But he was afraid of what he’d say if Preston kept taking care of him. All the feelings welling up were too much.
“Before you go, can you hand me my tablet?” He gestured at the desk across the room. Shifting to work mode always centered him.
“Are you sure?” Preston asked. “The last thing we want is for you to get worse.”
“I’m fine.” To prove it, he ate more soup, managing to hide the wince this time. “See?”
Sighing, Preston moved toward the desk. “If I don’t give you this, you’ll just get up and get it yourself anyway.”
“You know me well.” He set the bowl aside when Preston handed him the tablet. “I really need to get back to work. I promise to finish the soup and lie down if I start feeling wobbly again.”
Preston paused, opening his mouth as if to say something. Then, when it seemed like Preston had made up his mind, he turned around and headed for the door. But before stepping outside, he asked, “Do you still want to go home?”
Nathan thought about it. Now that he was feeling better, the panic didn’t come. Despite the snags along the way, the trip did seem like it was doing Preston some good. If they went home, the close call he had with his shoulder in Cork might become something to worry about.
The decision was obvious.
“Nah. Let’s stay. I can handle everything from here. I blame the panic on the fever.”
If he wasn’t mistaken, there was a glint in Preston’s eyes. Was that relief? Couldn’t be. Could it?
“Finish your soup,” Preston said as a parting shot. “Call if you need me. I’ll be in the living room.”
Attention already on putting together a new proposal, Nathan nodded and waved him away.