Chloe smiled. “That’s what I needed to hear. I felt like I fell down the rabbit hole into Wonderland. You wouldn’t believe my boss’s apartment, if you can call it that. It’s really a whole house inside a skyscraper, with a grand staircase and huge terraces and an incredible view of the river and New Jersey. He even has Jimmy Choo shoes for his guests to borrow.”
Grandmillie snorted as she took her hands off her hips. “Why you are so taken with those outlandishly high-heeled, outrageously expensive frou-frou designer shoes, I can’t figure out.”
“Maybe I have a Cinderella complex.” Chloe gave her grandmother another hug. “I’ve got to shower, but I’ll take you up on the oatmeal, after all. The helicopter can just wait a little longer.”
CHAPTER 7
Nathan felt his mood lighten as Chloe Russell walked into his bedroom, looking both refreshed and businesslike in a slim charcoal skirt, a deep blue blouse, and black high-heeled pumps. He gave himself the pleasure of letting his gaze skim down her legs to her elegant ankles.
His doctor was less appreciative. “What the hell is she doing here?” Ben rapped out.
“Your manners are appalling, Ben,” Nathan said. “My apologies, Chloe. Ben thinks I should spend the day sleeping.”
“He’s a doctor,” she said with a tilt of a smile, “so he’s probably right. You were pretty sick yesterday.”
Irritation flared. “It was the flu. Nothing more serious than that.”
“People die of the flu, you stubborn ass,” Ben said.
Nathan caught the little choke of laughter the temp quickly stifled. He quelled a smile. “She finds you amusing, which is more than I do. I’m fine, so you can stop hovering and go treat someone who needs it. Before you go, get this damned tube out of my arm so I can get up.” He held out his tethered arm to his friend.
Ben’s eyebrows drew down in a scowl. “If your fever spikes again, you’re going to need the intravenous line.”
“Luis can put it back in,” Nathan said, glancing at the nurse who stood beside the monitors.
Chloe spoke up. “I promise to keep an eye on him. If he looks feverish, I’ll go on strike.” She gave Ben a smile that pissed Nathan off. He was her boss; she should be smiling at him.
Ben nodded to Luis, who removed the needle and tube so skillfully that Nathan barely felt it.
“Now I have work to do,” Nathan said, giving Ben a hard stare.
The doctor turned to Chloe. “If he gets out of bed other than to go to the bathroom, call me immediately. He won’t admit it, but he’s as weak as a kitten.” Ben’s eyes gleamed with wicked satisfaction at his description.
“Kittens have claws, Cavill,” Nathan said. “And I’m about to use mine.”
Ben laughed and picked up his bag. “Force fluids. Sleep when you get tired.” His expression sobered. “Take it easy, Nathan. You won’t do anyone any good if you suffer a relapse because you pushed yourself too hard and fast.”
That was the problem with Ben. He knew he could defuse Nathan’s anger with genuine concern.
“Chloe has guaranteed my good behavior,” Nathan said, enjoying the temp’s alert gaze as she watched the battle between Ben and him.
The doctor walked to the door. “A task I don’t envy her, you royal pain,” he said as he left.
Nathan surveyed Chloe. He felt at a disadvantage since he was lying in bed in a T-shirt and pajama pants while she looked crisp and professional. Maybe a little too professional, with her hair yanked back into some sort of bun. He preferred it loose and bed-mussed as it had been when she woke up that morning, but he supposed he couldn’t tell her that. “Let’s get started,” he said instead. “You can use the desk there.” He pointed to a small workstation Ed had set up beside the bed, which was equipped with a laptop, a printer, and other office supplies.
A look of relief crossed Chloe’s face as she walked to the desk and seated herself in the ergonomic chair, her back ramrod straight. Clearly, she felt more comfortable when the situation was all business. He could deal with that.
Chloe had worked in some sketchy offices in her career with start-ups, but sitting at a desk beside Nathan Trainor’s bed was the strangest working experience she’d ever had. Her boss was propped up on a bank of pillows arrayed against the huge wooden headboard inset with deep blue leather tooled in swirling geometric patterns. As spectacular as the bed was, the man in it was far more magnetic, even with dark circles under his gray eyes. His shoulders did an impressive job of covering a fair amount of the width of the bed, and his hair was just rumpled enough to look slept on. She found her gaze sliding along the curve of his biceps and forearm, down to where his hand lay on the fine cotton of the taupe-colored quilt. He had square palms and long fingers.
“Let’s start with my e-mails. Just read me the sender names and subject lines.”
His voice jerked her back into business mode, dispelling her unruly brain’s vivid image of his index finger tracing a line down her neck into the vee of her blouse. She stared at the computer screen a moment before she remembered how to open his e-mail program.
She began to reel off the list, starting with the oldest unread e-mails.