Chapter 18
Alessandro put Juliano to bed a couple of hours later and checked on Nat again.
She’d kicked her coverings off and was lying in a fairly good likeness of the recovery position, her back to the door.
Her nightdress had ridden up and he could just see a glimpse of bare cheek as he remembered he hadn’t passed her any underwear earlier when she’d been in the shower.
Striding across the room, he placed his hand on her forehead.
She was cooler but didn’t stir at his touch or when he pulled the sheet up over her again.
He departed then but was back after another two hours with some more tablets.
The sheets were kicked off again but she was much more decent this time, having rolled on to her back, her clothes covering her completely.
Shaking her awake, she roused only enough to swallow the pills and take a little more water at his urging before collapsing against the sheets again. Alessandro wasn’t concerned – she was unwell and sleep was exactly what she needed, so he pulled the covers up and let her be.
It was well after midnight when he returned to his room for the night.
He was tired and couldn’t avoid it any longer.
The sheet was off again when he entered and Alessandro smiled – she was worse than Juliano.
He left her as she was for the moment, heading straight to the shower instead, deciding, as the spray needled his skin, whether it was wiser for him to sleep in her room or on the sofa for the night rather than his bed.
Give her room. And space. He wasn’t exactly her favourite person now.
But, ultimately, the very sensible plan to be close enough to minister to her throughout the night, should she need it, won out. If her condition worsened, if she called out, he wanted to be close by.
Climbing into some cotton boxers and a T-shirt, Alessandro gently eased into bed, careful not to disturb her. She was on her side again, her back facing him, as he lifted the sheet over her, his fingers touching her arm to gauge her temperature, pleased to find her skin was cool to touch.
Hopefully she’d be spared a severe infection and recover quickly. The thought was comforting as he withdrew his hand and, despite doubting he’d be able to sleep, Alessandro actually drifted off with surprising ease.
He was woken an hour later to freezing hands trailing down his abdomen.
‘I’m c-cold,’ Nat stuttered, teeth chattering as her body, like a biological homing device, instinctively sought the nearest source of heat. ‘S-so cold.’
Alessandro automatically bundled her closer, pulling her into his side, his hand rubbing up and down her arm, her body burning up and trembling violently.
‘Shh,’ he murmured, rhythmically rubbing her back and arm.
She was having a rigor and she’d stay like this until her temperature decreased.
‘I got you,’ he assured and absently pressed a kiss to her forehead.
In response, she tried to snuggle closer as if she was trying to become absorbed into him, into his heat. ‘C-cold,’ she muttered again.
Knowing how wretched she must feel, he murmured, ‘Roll on to your other side,’ as he gently ushered her over.
She protested a little but she rolled enough for Alessandro to move in behind and wrap his body around hers, spooning her as he’d done for Juliano the night he’d been sick, pulling her into him, covering her limbs with his and plastering himself to every square inch of exposed skin.
He was pretty sure the half sigh, half groan escaping her lips was a happy one and, without really thinking about it, he kissed the top of her head.
And that’s how they stayed for the next who knew how long, him loaning her his warmth, holding her long after the chills had dissipated and her temperate had dropped, nuzzling her hair and whispering assurances. ‘It’s okay,’ and ‘You’re okay,’ and ‘Hush,’ until he drifted off to sleep.
Alessandro was refreshing Nat’s water at ten the next morning when she woke, clearly disorientated if her frown and the searching way she looked around the dim room was any indication. He smiled. ‘Morning, sleepy-head.’
She blinked as she glanced at the drawn curtains. ‘How long have I been out?’
‘Apart from a few brief stirrings, it’s been about fourteen hours. How do you feel?’
Rolling on to her back, she stared at the ceiling, shutting her eyes. ‘Like I’ve been run over by a truck and been given a lobotomy with cotton wool replacing my brain.’
Alessandro watched as her tongue came out to wet her dry lips.
He’d tried to keep her fluids up but it hadn’t been enough.
She needed more. ‘Fancy some breakfast?’ She shook her head like the very thought was repulsive and he chuckled at the face she made.
‘No worries. But you need to get some more water into you. Don’t want you getting dehydrated. ’
She ran her tongue across her teeth and winced. ‘I need a toothbrush.’
Withdrawing her pills from his pocket he punched out two more cold and flu tabs. ‘Why don’t you take these, get up, have a shower, brush your teeth and come back to bed?’
He’d change the sheets while she was up. There was nothing like a shower, fresh linen and a minty mouth to make things a little better when illness came calling.
Turning her head to look out the door she sighed. ‘I’m not sure I’m up to the trek.’
‘I’m sure you’re not,’ he said firmly. ‘Use my en suite.’ It wasn’t like she hadn’t been in there plenty of times already. ‘Fresh towel on the rail and I’ll get you some clean PJs.’
She nodded weakly and he helped her to sit on the side of the bed before departing for her room.
Riffling through her drawers was not something Alessandro had ever pictured doing but he couldn’t find anything else resembling her usual oversized sleep shirt, so he just grabbed a regular T-shirt and underwear along with her hairbrush and toothbrush from her en suite.
When he returned to his room she was crossing gingerly to the shower – like every step was a chore – and Alessandro had to employ all his impulse control not to slip his arm around her waist for support. ‘You need a hand?’
She waved him away and he forced himself to go ahead and place her clothes and towel within easy reach and start the shower. It was at a good temperate when she entered, clinging to the door. ‘Do you need to sit?’
‘I’ll be fine.’ She glanced in the mirror and winced. ‘I look like a wrung-out dish mop.’
It was true, she was pale with dark circles under her eyes, which lacked their usual sparkle.
Her blonde hair, normally swishy and perky, hung limply around her face.
But all he saw was the Nat who had brought his son back to him.
Nat who had made his house a home. Nat who had wormed her way into a place inside he hadn’t thought was accessible to anyone.
‘A shower will fix that.’
She scoffed. ‘It’s a shower, not a miracle machine.’ But she shuffled towards it, clearly not too concerned about her looks.
Alessandro hovered, worrying about how weak she was. What if she got lightheaded and fainted? Or slipped and fell? But it was clear she was waiting for him to leave. ‘I’ll be right outside. Call if you need me.’
Less than fifteen minutes later Nat reappeared, looking much, much better.
Still tired but her hair was brushed and pulled back in a ponytail using one of the hairbands she kept around her brush handle, he presumed.
There was colour in her cheeks and she was steadier on her feet.
He’d heard her cough a few times, as she had overnight, but that was to be expected.
‘Better?’
‘Yes.’ She nodded and then added a little stiffly, ‘Thank you.’
It was clear her time in the shower had revived her enough to remember how they’d argued just before she’d collapsed on him, but she was just too exhausted to rekindle anything.
Alessandro was sure if she could have made it to her bed, she probably would have, but it was a measure of her energy levels that she crossed directly to his freshly made one instead.
Sighing gratefully, she crawled on to it, pulled up the sheet, shut her eyes and was asleep within seconds.
A few hours later Alessandro climbed the stairs to check on his patient.
He’d just got off the phone from St Auburn’s, who had confirmed that Nat had indeed contracted swamp flu.
Thankfully both his and Juliano’s swabs were so far negative.
To his surprise, he realised Juliano, Flo in tow, was propped up on the pillow next to Nat, chatting away.
Her eyes were closed but that didn’t seem to be bothering him.
Alessandro opened his mouth to motion Juliano to come away but then his son said something that rendered him totally powerless.
‘Please get better, Nat. I want you to be my mummy.’ Juliano stroked Nat’s forehead gently. ‘We love you Nat.’
Standing stunned just outside the doorway, his pulse throbbing through his ears, Alessandro didn’t know what to say or to think. He knew Juliano was close to Nat and that it would be a wrench when she left but he hadn’t realised his son’s feelings ran this deep.
She stirred then and Alessandro held his breath as her eyes fluttered open. ‘Love you too, matey,’ she murmured, before settling back to sleep.
Alessandro blinked. Was Nat lucid? Had she heard Juliano? He wasn’t sure. All he was aware of was a sudden roaring in his ears threatening to deafen him as his chest filled with an emotion that had been building and growing until it could no more be denied.
It wasn’t something he’d ever felt for a woman before so it had been easy to discount and ignore – but he knew what it was now.
All that he cared about in the world was right in front of him.
His son who he loved with a deep ferocity that came from some ancient well, as deep and dark and endless as the universe.
And Nathalie.
Who he also loved. Newer and brighter, like a star being born but bursting its light across the galaxy and shining for all eternity.
Idiota!
He’d been so blind. So busy punishing himself for past mistakes he hadn’t been paying attention to what was happening in the here and now.
When Nat had mentioned the L word he’d run a mile because he’d still been looking back.
But looking at his son and the woman in his bed – the best thing that had ever happened to him – he knew they were the way forward.
They were his future. If it wasn’t too late.
At least he had some time while she was bed-bound.
To think. To strategise. He had his work cut out for him for sure.
Nat had been betrayed by two men in her past over another woman so it didn’t take a genius to figure out that, this time round, she wouldn’t be so forgiving.
He knew she wouldn’t take any platitudes or settle for any slick proclamations.
He was going to have to tell her the truth.
The whole truth. Something he’d never told anyone.
What was that old saying? The truth will set you free.
Maybe it would. He hoped so. Maybe it was time to get it all out in the open instead of keeping it inside, eating away at him, using it to continually beat himself with.
Maybe he deserved love too?
He certainly couldn’t let her walk out of his life without trying. Hiding in the past hadn’t done either of them any good. Maybe it was time for him – for them – to start looking forward, to start living for the future?