Page 8 of Her Bossy Daddy

Chapter Three

Lacey

My fucking alarm blared like a walrus in distress. Bleary-eyed, I smacked my clock and forced my head to understand what six in the morning is. I wasn’t going to work today. No, not while my head and heart ached.

I searched for my cell phone and composed an email to

Good morning,

Due to illness, I will not be in today. Please direct any urgent issues to

I expect to be back in the office tomorrow and will follow up when I return.

Thank you for your time,

Lacey

Lacey Porter

Senior Marketing Adviser

Next Healthcare Corporation LLC

[emailprotected]

“Taking Healthcare into the next century, today.”

I studied the message for a full minute. I hated Milly personally, but she covered for me when I was out, just as much as I covered for her. The last time I banked a sick day happened the day after my previous boss threatened to call an ambulance if I didn’t go home. Some mysterious twenty-four-hour bug hit me, but then I was back to work. This would raise flags, but I couldn’t care about the repercussion.

Professionally, calling in one time wasn’t a big deal. I sighed and then sent off the email before I crawled back under the covers and fell asleep.

* * *

Someone rang my doorbell. Who the hell is here? Did I order anything online? I glanced at my cell phone but it was barely seven in the morning. I padded out to the hall, then peeked through the curtain on the side of my front door. Liam stood outside. After I’d rushed off the phone yesterday it was hard to gauge his emotion. I opened the door casually, as if we’ve done this before and fought the urge to wrap myself around him. Then I noticed his nearly forest green eyes. Shit. He’s irritated at me or concerned.

“May I come in, love?”

“Enter at your own peril. I might be contagious. You shouldn’t get too close to me,” I offered with sincerity but he waved off my statement. I stepped back to allow him access, and then closed and locked the door behind us.

“I’m not concerned. Obviously. Or I wouldn’t be here.” He cocked an eyebrow. “What’s troubling you then? Your head? Something else?”

“I’ve got a fever.” His mouth quirked up at the corner. “At least, I did before.” I bit down on my lip.

“Right. How high is it?”

“Like a hundred and one-ish.” Our conversation seemed headed toward a bad path. Especially with all of the secret fantasies and punishments I desired and told him about in the past.

“One hundred one-ish?” His mouth quirked up again.

“Something like that,” I lied and wiped my sweaty palms on the back of my pants. Lying wasn’t something I was good at, so my cover got blown every time. You’d think I’d smarten up at some point.

“I’m sure the thermometer recorded the last reading. Go get it for me. If your temp is as high as you said, then we should take you to the doctor and get you checked out.”

“I don’t think it’s that serious. I should just get some rest.”

“If it’s serious enough for you to call into work, which is so unlike you—”

“The battery died when I used it, so maybe it wasn’t functioning right,” I interjected with a small smile as I blamed the instrument, one I hadn’t even used on myself.

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