Page 47 of On His Bride's Terms

‘Why insist on separate rooms when we know we’ll end up in bed together?’ Primo was asking Faye in the back of the car as they left the event a few hours later.

For the first time since Faye had met Primo she could actually say that making love to him wasn’t foremost in her mind. But the car was pulling to a halt outside the hotel now and Primo had somehow magically appeared at her door in what seemed like a nanosecond to help her out.

She stumbled a little.

‘Are you okay?’ His hand tightened on her elbow.

‘I’m fine. Just tired, I think...maybe coming down with something.’

They were in the elevator now and Primo looked at her. ‘You look flushed.’

He put a hand to her forehead and Faye wanted to swat it away, but it felt like too much of an effort.

‘I think I might have caught something. I’m sure it’ll be gone in the morning.’

When they got to their rooms, and Faye stopped outside her door, Primo asked, ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’

Faye nodded, but winced slightly. It was starting to hurt when she moved her head. ‘I’m just tired.’

‘I’m coming in with you.’

Faye protested. ‘Primo, I’m not sure I’m really feeling—’

‘Not for that.’

He took the key out of her hand and swiped it, opening her door. Inside, he turned on some lights and then went to the connecting door that linked their rooms. He opened the lock on Faye’s side and looked at her.

‘I’m going to open the door on my side too. Let me know if you need anything, okay?’

He handed back her room key. Faye took it and watched him walk out again. A minute later he was unlocking the door on his side, so all Faye would have to do was open her door.

He called through the doors. ‘Night, Faye.’

‘Night, Primo.’

Somehow Faye managed to undress and wash herself, even though it felt like a monumental task. She fell into bed, hoping that by morning she’d be feeling better.

But she wasn’t.

She was worse.

Much worse.

She woke to a persistent banging noise, and when she tried to speak nothing came out. Her throat was agony, as if filled with hot needles.

She managed to get up and go in the direction of the banging and pulled the door open. She was looking at a broad, bare chest that was vaguely familiar. Primo.

He put a hand on her forehead. ‘Faye...you’re burning up.’

Faye wanted to say,Give it a rest, Primo, you’re not that amazing.But she felt herself become weightless, and then she was being deposited on a bed.

She realised that it wasn’t her bed, and struggled to sit up, croaking out, ‘Primo, I told you—’

‘Yes, a doctor, please, ASAP.’

Faye sank back down. Oh. He wasn’t trying to make love to her. He was calling a doctor. For some reason Faye found that momentarily hilarious—until she laughed and it hurt her ribs.

Everything seemed to happen in a bit of a blur after that. A doctor came—a nice lady, who poked and prodded Faye and looked at her throat. Faye’s head was clearing marginally, and she heard the doctor say, ‘It looks like you’ve picked up this virulent strain of flu going around.’

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