Page 21 of Forbidden Virgin

Chapter 8

One month later…

Kate parked her car in Graham’s driveway and slid out. She glanced at her wristwatch. For the past few weeks, she’d learned a lot from the Housekeeping and Laundry departments. Now she worked at Front Desk, checking guests in and out and transferring calls.

In the morning, her worry-o-meter had flashed when Graham hadn’t shown up for work, and she’d texted and called during her break to no response. She’d checked with Sheri, who told her he wouldn’t be in for the day due to a flu bug.

Kate carried a couple of grocery bags. She’d stopped on the way to buy some essentials just in case he didn’t have them handy—though she’d slept over at his place enough to know his housekeeper kept his fridge stocked. Still. It felt good to hand pick the fresh produce, smell the candles to pick the perfect scent, and pick out a couple of painkillers.

She used the key he gave her to get into his place. Sometimes he went out of town for a day or two and she loved to surprise him when he returned. She’d received an email about the Swiss hotel school, but she skimmed the information about her year abroad with a mist of dread and excitement. The experience would be a life changer: to be able to live in Europe, learn the trade from a global perspective and travel on her own—but that meant saying goodbye to Graham, the man she’d loved for years. She could have named such a sentiment an infatuation or crush, and maybe it’d begun that way. But now she recognized it as the most powerful emotion she had nurtured for a man. And going away would rip it all away.

She clenched the bags with one hand, and kicked the door shut behind her. “Graham?” she called.

Maybe if they continued together by the time her training ended, she could work out an arrangement with him. He could visit her a few times in Switzerland during her stay. Unless he doesn’t want to keep our relationship going. She shook her head. One day at a time, she told herself.

She’d wanted him to take her virginity and now she just wanted him to keep taking her. And she’d do whatever she could to show him her commitment.

She placed the two bags on the kitchen countertop, and rolled up her sleeves. The front desk uniform was a lot cuter than the housekeeping: a knee-length black skirt with a snow white shirt and a black jacket with the hotel’s monogram. Sighing, she headed to the hallway, finding his bedroom door open. When she entered, she found him sleeping on the bed.

Wearing only a pair of black silky boxers, he lay on his stomach, his hand drooping down the thick mattress. Gently, she kneeled in front of him and touched his forehead. His skin burned hot.

She glanced at the nightstand crowded with a thermometer, two bottles of water, facial tissues, his cell phone and the TV remote. She used the fancy thermometer to read his forehead, and it confirmed he had a high fever.

Quickly, she dashed to the kitchen, grabbed the bottle of pain reliever from the bag and returned to his room.

“Graham, take this,” she whispered.

He didn’t move. She poked his shoulder, and said in her normal voice, “Your fever is bad. Open your mouth.”

He opened his eyes for a second, but for the first time his gorgeous midnight blue eyes didn’t carry any emotion. Poor guy. He opened his mouth to yawn, and she popped the two pills inside and grabbed the bottle. “Drink it.”

He did as he was told, and she enjoyed being the one in charge for a change. “What are you doing here?” he said.

“I’m checking on you.” If she said I’m taking care of you maybe that would have woken him up. If he had been more conscious maybe he’d refused the medication or her help. Graham was the epitome of the tough guy who didn’t need anything—unless it was her. He’d told her many times he needed her, and she hoped he meant it in other ways than just sex. Because she needed him in so many ways it scared her.

He mumbled words she didn’t comprehend, and turned his head to the other side and hugged his pillow. She rushed to the kitchen and put the groceries away, then used the recipe from her grandma she knew by heart to make him some chicken noodle soup.

When she returned to his room, he still slept, but she touched his forehead and found him a tad cooler. Good. His phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she picked it up.

Preston is back in Maui for a couple of meetings. I’m throwing him a dinner party at my place tomorrow. Come by and you can talk to him about your proposal.

At the end of the text, her eyes slid to the top and she read the sender’s information. Amanda. Could it possibly be his ex, Amanda? Because if so, she seemed way too willing to help him out. A wave of frustration washed over her. She’d gotten used to the looks guests and women in general gave Graham. In fact, a part of her swelled with female pride knowing a guy so hot chose her to sleep next to.

She contemplated the massive man sprawled on the bed. Amanda represented a different ball game. She’d been his ex, and maybe she wanted to change their status-quo and saw his need of Preston’s business as a great excuse. But what if she just wanted to help him out? Wouldn’t it be sexist of Kate to think Amanda wanted him for herself only? Besides, Graham would appreciate the opportunity for sure. He’d told her Preston was more slippery than wet soap and he’d been trying to nail the deal.

The phone buzzed in her hand, startling her and she almost jumped off the edge of the bed. Let me know soon.

I’ll do it. Thanks. She typed, and hoped to God she made the right decision.

* * *

“Any better?” she asked the next morning. She’d decided to call off work and told her manager she didn’t feel well—maybe it’d be prophetic and she’d catch his flu bug. She couldn’t in good conscience have left him. She made him drink the soup, but also made sure she kept his fever down and him hydrated. She opted for not mentioning the Amanda situation/Preston dinner until he fully recovered.

He rubbed his eyes. “What time is it?” he asked, yawning.

“Nine o’clock.”

He propped himself on his elbow, giving her a luscious view of his tanned muscular chest. “Were you here all night?”

---