Chapter 8 #2
Placing the tray over her lap, he sat on the edge of the bed. "Want another warm towel?"
She nodded.
Without another word, he took away the one before and went to the bathroom to get another.
"Thanks," she muttered when he placed it under her sweater, square onto her stomach.
"Er-I'm sorry about the sheets. I know they're very expensive and the blood won't come out. And the mattress-"
"Screw that!" he exploded, making her jump.
"Do you think I give a crap about some sheets and the mattress?
They can easily be replaced. I'm worried about you.
I-" He closed his eyes briefly and lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck.
"I'm sorry." Taking a deep breath, he tried again.
"I know several doctors, top ones in their fields.
Dr. John Wynter is a friend of the family, and he's a noted gynae.
I'll give him a call in the morning and ask him to stop by. "
Her eyes widened as she recognized the name. The man was a doctor to several major actresses. "You can't expect him to make house calls. I'll make an appointment-"
"He owes my family several favors," he told her with a grim smile. "He'll be here. Drink the tea. How do you feel?" he asked after she had taken a sip.
"A little better. The pills are starting to take effect, and the warm cloth and tea are doing wonders."
He nodded, searching her face for signs of pain.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, belatedly remembering that he had told her he would be gone a week.
"I live here."
"No." She shook her head. "You said a week."
"Oh." He dragged a hand through his tousled hair. "I finished up early and decided to come home. I should have called-"
"No. It's fine."
"Let me finish, please. What is it?" He stiffened in alarm when she quickly put the cup down and removed the tray.
"I'm going to be sick." She shoved off the bed and raced to the bathroom, with him following.
Hunkering down behind her, he rubbed her back soothingly, his face grim, hands trembling as he listened to her retch.
"Better?" he asked gently when she sat back against him weakly.
"Yes. Hopefully, that's the last surge. Thanks for holding my hair."
"No problem." He soothed her moist brow and dropped a light kiss on her forehead. "More tea?"
She shook her head. "Just some water. But I don't want to move yet."
"All right." Sitting with his back to the wall, he wrapped his arms around her. "Let me know when you're ready."
She nodded, her fingers curling into the thick wool of his sweater.
He smelled like spice and something very expensive and soothing, she thought, her eyes drifting shut.
The hurt of his disappearance over the past few days was no longer with her.
She had no idea why he came just when she needed him, but she thanked God that he was here.
"You're falling asleep." He nudged at her, and she opened her eyes. "Let's get you to bed." Rising, he helped her up, wrapping his hands around her waist and guiding her into the room and up the steps.
"Your bed is twice the size of mine," she murmured as he pulled the sheets over her.
"Hmm. I had it custom-made."
"I like the etchings on the framework." Her eyes were closing but flew open when he started to move away. "Don't go."
"I'm just going to change my clothes and get another warm rag," he said soothingly.
Her eyes drifted shut. He went to get the washcloth. By the time he came back, she was already asleep. Lifting her sweater, he placed the towel on her abdomen, bending to kiss her forehead when she stirred. "Go back to sleep."
Stepping back, he stripped, tossing the clothes carelessly into a heap on the floor. Dragging on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, he climbed in.
She immediately sought the warmth of his body by snuggling against him.
With a pained sigh, he wrapped his arm around her, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder. Reaching over carefully, he extinguished the light from the lamp, plunging the room into darkness except for the fire simmering in the hearth.
Her breasts were pressing against his chest, making him acutely aware of her.
Turning his thoughts away from her lush curves pressed up against him, his mind wandered back to the amount of blood both on the sheets and on the bathroom floor.
His mind was going crazy, coming up with all sorts of scenarios of what could be wrong with her.
She had said it was a hormonal imbalance.
He had a vague idea what that was, but he was not fully aware of the condition.
He would have to do his research and ask the doctor about it.
He had seen the anguished look on her lovely face as the pain tore through her body. It had made him feel helpless and scared. He still was. Tipping his head down, he gazed at her.
She had piled her thick coils in a loose knot on top of her head, leaving her round face free.
Her long lashes shadowed her cheeks, and her sultry lips were slightly parted.
Desire stirred inside him and was ruthlessly squashed.
It would do absolutely no good to be thinking about her body while she was in this much pain.
But his body had a mind of its own, and with her lying almost on top of him, it was reacting alarmingly to the close proximity.
Sighing softly, he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on something else, anything else.
He would make the call first thing in the morning and have the doctor come out.
He had no doubt in his mind that John would drop what he was doing and appear.
He not only owed the family for his very prestigious career but was also a friend.
He finally drifted off, only to be awakened what seemed to him a very short time later, with her struggling to get out of his very secure hold on her.
Jolted awake, he bolted up, cursing when his chin connected with her head. "What? What?" he muttered, rubbing his flesh.
"I have to-"
"Christ, I thought you said the vomiting was over."
"No." She shoved at him again. "I have to change."
"Change?" He shook his head to clear the fog from his brain, and it was then he saw the embarrassed look on her lovely face. "Oh. Oh!" Releasing her abruptly, he moved aside so she could get up and watched as she bolted into the bathroom. Hesitating briefly, he followed her and stood by the door.
"Anything I can do?" he asked awkwardly.
"I just have to sit on the toilet for a minute. Uhm, can you do me a favor?"
"Of course." He was waiting to hear if he had to go and make a pot of tea again.
"I need sanitary napkins. They're in the cabinet under the sink in my bathroom. Could you bring two, please?"
"Yes. The drawer under the sink. Got it."
"Thanks."
"You're welcome."
Rubbing his hands over his face, he hurried out of the room and made his way into her room.
Ignoring the spot of blood on the bed and the sheets he had dumped on the floor, he went and grabbed the stuff.
To be on the safe side, he grabbed four instead of two.
He was heading to the doors when something told him to grab underwear as well.
His lust took a massive beating as he stood there staring at the silk and lace folded neatly in the second drawer. There were tons of delicate underwear, sexy, suggestive, and some sensible ones, a very few sensible ones.
"Jesus!" he swore beneath his breath. Feeling like a voyeur and a pervert, he selected the sensible one and slammed the drawer shut. God help his imagination. He was going to be visualizing that drawer for a long time. And that would not help his current situation.
He hurried back into the room and knocked on the bathroom door. "I got the stuff and also brought underwear in case."
"Thanks." She eased the door an inch and took them. "I'll be right out."
He stood there waiting until she did. She opened the door and took a step back when she saw him still standing there.
"Everything all right?" He came and stood in front of her to scrutinize her face for any signs of residual pain or tears.
"I had to sit for a while. There were clots."
"What? Oh. I see." He did not know what to do with that information. "Are they all gone?"
"Most of them. Uhm. Thanks."
"Of course." Taking her hand, he led her toward the bed and up the steps. "Get in." He saw her peering at the sheets closely. "What is it?"
"I don't want to mess up another couple of sheets."
"You didn't."
He waited until she had climbed in and then slid in next to her. Pulling the covers up, he tucked her in and pulled her against him. "How's the pain?"
"The pills are still working." She snuggled against him and sighed. "You smell nice," she whispered, making him chuckle.
"Just what every guy likes to hear. Try and go back to sleep. I'll call John first thing in the morning and have him come out." He rubbed a hand up and down her back. "And Indigo?"
"Hmm?"
"Don't ever scare me like that again."
Lifting her head, she met his tawny gaze. "I'll try not to," she promised.