“Here’s some soft drink for you. It might help settle your stomach. How are you feeling?”
“Better,” she said, trying to smile. “I’ll be fine. You go on to work. You don’t have to stay. I’ve survived worse.”
“I’m sure you have,” he said matter-of-factly. “Do you feel like taking a sip of this?”
“Not right now,” she said, closing her eyes. “I’ll just rest a while.”
“Good,” he said, his voice deep and calm.
For a fleeting second, she thought she felt the coolness of his hand against her forehead. Before she could order her eyelids to open again, the sensation was gone.
With sleep coming and going, she was visited by wisps of dreams that came and went with startling clarity, but little logic. In one episode, she was back in her old apartment with all her things. Later, she saw herself on an old-fashioned swing with Jared pushing her as she laughed, soaring high.
Then there was the snatch of scene where she clung to him, crying—over what she didn’t know.
Later, sometime after noon, Kelsey opened her eyes and the room didn’t swim. She stared at the ceiling for several moments, mentally reviewing her own condition. Though the sheets were wrinkled and damp, she felt less feverish now. Her head still hurt, but not to the point of nausea.
Somewhere in the apartment, Jared was talking.
She rolled over, squinting at the clock. Hadn’t he gone to work?
Noises from the kitchen could be heard, the clink of cutlery on ceramic. Minutes later, Jared appeared in the doorway.
“You’re awake.” Dressed casually in jeans and an open-neck shirt, he smiled, bending over her to put his hand against her cheek. “Temperature seems close to normal. Do you feel better?”
“Some,” she admitted, both startled and warmed by his tenderness. In her experience, in the best of times men were useless as bedside attendants for minor ailments.
“Would you like to take a quick bath?” he asked, crossing the room to switch on the bathroom light.
“Yes,” she said, struggling to straighten in the bed.
“Here,” Jared said, coming swiftly to help her sit up. “Why don’t we get you into the tub and I’ll make you something to eat. Is your stomach settled enough for some soup?”
“That sounds great,” she said, conscious of the bizarreness of the situation. Here she was, weak as a kitten, sweaty and unpleasant with her hair hanging in her face and no claim to feminine charms—and yet she felt cared for.
It didn’t make any sense, particularly since she’d made him mad last night by butting into his business. Why would he take care of her like this?
Jared helped her up, steadying her as they walked to the bathroom. He ran her a bath, extricated her from the t-shirt she’d slept in, and actually put her hair up in a lopsided ponytail to keep it from getting wet.
Minutes later, she sat in the huge tub, lukewarm water up to her chin.
“We don’t want you getting too hot,” he said, as if he’d nursed a hundred invalids. “You just sit. I’ll go make the soup.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, sighing in contentment. She couldn’t ever remember being this pampered. Her mother had taken care of her childhood illnesses, of course. But for a man to do this seemed unbelievable.
It wasn’t as if she were terminally ill. Any decent human being would try to help then. She wasn’t even completely incapacitated. She could have gotten herself in the bathtub, could have scrounged something for her now-hungry stomach.
But she didn’t have to because Jared was doing it for her. Even after she’d made him furious the night before.
Kelsey sighed again, sinking lower in the tub.
She must have drifted. The next thing she knew, Jared stood beside her, holding a soft towel.
“Time to get out,” he said.
Once she was dried off, his hands gentle on her body, Kelsey found herself dressed in a clean t-shirt and panties. He led her back into the bedroom.
To her surprise, he’d changed the sheets. Gone were the wrinkled mess of covers, replaced by a new set, neatly folded back on her side.
“Come on,” Jared said, helping her back into bed. He mounded up the pillows behind her. “I’ll be right back with your soup.”
Feeling weak, but refreshed by her bath, she leaned her head back against the pillow.
The phone rang and she heard him answer it in the kitchen. His sister, she thought, hearing him laughingly ask how her back was feeling.
Kelsey felt herself sink into the pillow, sleep tugging at her. It seemed only seconds later that Jared appeared next to the bed with a tray.
“Just eat as much as you want,” he said, placing it over her legs.