Jagged (44 page)

“Sorry, darlin’.”

I was moved again back between sheets, head on pillow, and before the covers fully settled on me, I was asleep.

* * *

I woke up when I felt something cool, too cool, hit my neck.

“No,” I rasped.

“You’re burnin’ up, baby.”

I wasn’t burning up. I was cold. So cold I was trembling, full-on human earthquake.

“So cold.” The words scraped through my throat and I winced.

The cool left my neck and was pressed to my forehead.

“Nina, do you have travel insurance?”

I tried to focus but couldn’t and asked, “What?”

“This doesn’t break soon, I gotta get you to the hospital.”

I stayed silent mainly because I was trying to concentrate on getting warm. I pulled the covers closer around me and snuggled into them.

“Nina, listen to me, do you have travel insurance?”

“Wallet,” I told him. “Purse.”

“Okay, honey, rest.”

I nodded and pulled the covers closer but I couldn’t get warm enough.

“I need another blanket.”

“Honey.”

“Please.”

The cool cloth stayed at my forehead but I felt strong fingers curl around my neck and then they drifted down to my shoulder.

Then I heard the word “Fuck,” said softly and the covers were drawn away.

“No!” I cried. It was weak but it was a cry.

“Hang tight, baby.”

The bed moved and I fell back as substantial weight came in behind me.

Then his body was the length of my back, fitting itself into the curve of mine. I nestled backward, deeper into his solid warmth, as the tremors kept quaking my frame. His arm came around me, his hand found mine, and the fingers of both my hands curled around his, hard, tight, holding on.

“So cold, Max.”

“Beat it back, Duchess.”

I nodded against the pillow and said, “I’ll try.”

It took a while, the trembling keeping me awake, him holding me tight, his body pressed to mine.

What felt like hours later, when the tremors started to slide away, I called softly, “Max?”

“Right here,” came a gravelly yet drowsy reply.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

Then I slid into sleep, so exhausted it felt like I’d fought an epic battle.

* * *

The cool cloth was again against my brow, sweeping back across my hair.

“Max?”

“Fever’s broke.”

“Mm,” I mumbled, falling back to sleep.

The words “Work with me, Nina,” stopped my descent.

“Okay,” I whispered and I was moved to my back and then my upper body was pulled up.

“Lift your arms.”

I did as I was told and the T-shirt came off.

“You sweated it out, Duchess. You’re in the home stretch.”

“Okay.”

“Keep your arms up.”

“Okay.”

I felt another T-shirt come down over my arms, over my head. I felt it yanked down at my belly, my sides. I fell forward and felt my forehead resting against something soft and hard. The material was soft and it covered what I figured was a hard shoulder.

“You can drop your arms.”

“Okay.”

I dropped my arms and then I slid them around what felt like a man’s waist. Then I cuddled closer. It felt like arms came around my waist, too, and it also felt like a hand was trailing gently up and down my back.

“You’re sweet when you’re sick.”

“I am?”

“Hellion when you’re riled.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah.”

“Mm.”

Then he muttered, “Not sure which I like more.”

I had no reply. Mainly because I’d fallen back to sleep.

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* * *

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