Page 100 of Tempt
I nodded. By now I knew the who’s who of Cloverleigh Farms by heart. My stomach growled loudly, frightening her cats, who ran for cover.
Millie straightened up and came over to me, rubbing my belly. “You poor thing, you drove straight through without eating. Let me feed you.” She went over to the fridge and opened it.
I pushed it closed. “No. You are going straight to bed.”
She arched a brow. “Trying to get me in bed already?” Then she was seized by a sneezing fit.
Spying a box of tissues on the counter, I brought it over to her. “Believe it or not, no. I’m not thinking about sex right now.”
She blew her nose and tossed the tissue in the trash. “I can believe it. I amnotsexy at the moment.”
“Upstairs. Now.” I took her by the shoulders and steered her from the kitchen, through the center hallway, up the stairs, and into her bedroom. Then I gently sat her at the foot of the bed and knelt down on the rug. Untying her boots, I pulled them off her feet, peeled off her socks, and stood up again. “Are you keeping those clothes on?”
She shook her head. “I want pajamas.”
“Where are they?”
“Second drawer on the left.”
I dug in the drawer and pulled out something soft and white. “This?”
“That works.” She sneezed again. “And the plaid flannel pants.”
Bringing the items to her, I helped her out of her jeans, sweater and bra, and into the pajamas without even laying a hand on her. Proud of myself, I turned back the covers on her bed and watched her crawl in. “Are you hungry?” I asked, pulling the blankets up to her waist.
She nodded. “Yes. And thirsty.”
“Water or tea?”
“Tea. It’s in the pantry. With honey, please.”
“You got it. What sounds good to eat? Don’t worry, I’m not going to cook. I’ll order in.”
She laughed, which turned into a cough, and settled back on the pillow. “You can choose. I don’t think I can taste anything anyway.”
“Okay. I’ll be back in a minute with tea.”
Down in the kitchen, I noticed a kettle on the stove—the old-fashioned kind—which made me smile. I filled it with water, turned on the gas beneath it, and hunted in the pantry for tea. Her cats watched me suspiciously.
While I waited for the water to boil, I ordered some Italian food for delivery. A few minutes later, I brought her a glass of ice water and a mug of hot tea with honey, and set it on her nightstand.
“Thanks,” she said. “I’m sorry to make you go down again, but can you also bring up that box of tissues?”
“Of course.” I hustled back to the kitchen, snatched the box off the counter, and returned to her room, setting it on the nightstand.
“You’re the best.” She sipped her tea. “Sit with me for a minute?”
“You need rest.”
“Come on, just for a minute.” She patted the bed beside her. “I feel awful you’re missing your flight.”
“Don’t.” I lowered myself onto the mattress and leaned back on one arm, my hand on the far side of her legs. “I’d rather be here with you than go back to that empty apartment.”
She smiled. “You need a cat or something.”
“I’d like to get a dog. But it wouldn’t really be fair to have an animal when I’m gone so often.”
“Do you think you’ll always travel so much?”
