Nathan rolled over with a groan. His arms and legs felt like they were made of rubber, and someone seemed to be rapping on his skull with a hammer.
With a Herculean effort, he opened his eyes, and once again found Chloe Russell asleep beside his bed, bathed in the pale light of dawn. At least this time he remembered how she’d gotten there. Too exhausted to move, he let his gaze roam over the not-unattractive picture of her streaked, sleep-tousled hair spread over the pillow, and the swell of her breast highlighted by her up-flung arm. Her lips, so firm and prim when she was awake, were full, and a soft shade of pink without their usual lipstick.
He felt an unexpected tightening below his waist and sprawled onto his back to fix his gaze on the ceiling. If he was lusting after the temp, he wasn’t as sick as Ben thought. The surge of desire dissipated as he remembered the long list of appointments he’d missed the day before. Not to mention the ones he would miss today, because he wasn’t kidding himself about being able to go into work. He’d barely been able to stagger to the bathroom last night, and he was probably contagious.
The thought made him turn back to Chloe with a frown. She’d been breathing in the germ-laden air around him, so she was likely to be the flu’s next victim. Then he’d have that on his conscience.
On the other hand, she’d already been exposed, so further contact with him couldn’t make it any worse. She could stay and help him work from home.
He felt more cheerful at the prospect and wondered why. He was accustomed to working from home without any assistance. It must be another sign of how badly the flu had undermined his strength.
One of the monitors beeped, and Chloe’s eyes came open. Their gazes met, and for one moment, those full lips of hers curved into a smile. The smile disappeared as confusion clouded her face and she sat up, clutching the covers to her chest as though she was wearing something more revealing than the now-wrinkled blouse she’d worn to work the day before. Guilt jabbed at him; Ben had upended her schedule without much concern.
“Wha—?” Chloe shook her hair out of her face. He saw the moment her memory of the situation clicked in, and she said, “You look better. How are you feeling?”
“Since I don’t remember much about the last twenty-four hours, I can’t say I feel better, but I suspect I do.”
The worry cleared from her expression, and she released the sheet. “I’m pretty sure you couldn’t have put that sentence together last night, so the fever must be down.”
So he’d been incoherent. “Did I babble like an idiot?”
“Well, you babbled, but since you were having hallucinations, I don’t think you were being an idiot. You just saw things that weren’t there.”
The hallucinations were beginning to fade from his memory. Only one remained vivid, and that was the feel of Chloe pressed against his chest as he lay in bed. A quick analysis offered two possibilities: either his brain preferred the pleasant image and held onto it, or the event had actually occurred. He decided to embrace the former explanation because the latter would make working with Chloe awkward.
“I have a proposition for you,” he said. The temp looked wary. “I’m sure Ben won’t let me go to the office today, and I have a lot to catch up on. You’ve already been exposed to my germs, which I apologize for but cannot fix. Would you consider working here with me?”
Her eyebrows drew downward as she untangled herself from the bedding and stood up. She had her lips pursed again. Instead of looking at him, she turned her gaze to the windows, where the tops of the buildings on the river’s western shore were just beginning to catch the early sun’s rays. “I’d need to go home first,” she said. She waved her hands down alongside her body in a movement that was meant to indicate her rumpled clothing but only succeeded in drawing his eye to her curves again. “To change.”
“There are clothes in the guest room you can use.”
A mixture of animosity and amusement scudded across her face. “I know.”
“If you’re tired, you’re welcome to use the guest bed as well.” She gave a tiny shake of her head, and he realized he didn’t want her to say no. “I’ll double your hourly rate.”
She brought her gaze back to him. “Dr. Cavill tripled it.”
“You drive a hard bargain.” He made a gesture of agreement. “Consider your rate tripled.”
She nodded. “But I still have to go home. It should only take about three hours, depending on traffic.”
“Where do you live?”
“New Jersey.”
“You can use the helicopter. That will eliminate the traffic and get you back faster.”
The look of astonishment on her face was worth the price of the aviation fuel it would take. “Use . . . the . . . helicopter.” She stared at him. “Where do you think it will land? I don’t exactly have a helipad on my roof.”