A Fine Line Page 3

  He chided himself for what his mind was doing with the image that lay before him. Again, he covered her. Then realized the bed was wet with sweat. He found another sheet and tossed it over her, but she kicked that one off, too.

  “Chloe, please keep the sheet on you. It’s not that warm in here.”

  “Leave me alone,” she mumbled.

  “I’m trying to take care of you.” Mentally crossing his fingers that she would remain covered, he pulled the fresh sheet over her, again. This time it stayed there. He fixed a cup of coffee and sat on the bench at the old plank table to watch her. The image of her body still lingered.

  When she exposed her breasts one more time, he turned his back to her. He wanted to hold her, caress those brown tips with his tongue, and feel her body pressed to his. He swallowed what coffee was left in his cup and fixed another. Was it possible to drown his desire with coffee?

  He pushed the one bed closer to hers and decided he needed to sleep too. At least he’d be close enough to hear her.

  He stared at the ceiling. Sleep eluded him. The office grape vine said that she played racquetball and no one from the office had beaten her. He’d probably lose to her, too. He enjoyed the game, but he wasn’t good at it. I wonder when she learned to play. She wasn’t an athlete in school. She played field hockey in seventh grade until she wound up on crutches. The vision of her naked body burned in his brain.

  ***

  “Thirsty,” she moaned.

  He wasn’t positive he understood what she said until she repeated it. Swinging his feet out of his bed, he brought her another glass of water and pulled the covers over her as he helped her drink.

  She handed him her glass and then stared at him as if she were trying to clear her head. “I must be dreaming. Who are you?”

  “Rich Warren. Chloe, you’re sick. You’ve got a fever. Go back to sleep.” He lowered back onto the bed. She was still feverish, but no longer burning hot. He found her Motrin, read the label, looked at his watch, and decided she could have another dose. He made a fresh pot of coffee, ate a granola bar, and waited for her awaken again.

  He didn’t have to wait long before she began to stir. He took her another drink and her Motrin. “Here, take this.”

  She pushed his hand away. “What is it?”

  “Motrin. You’re sick. You’ve got a fever. Take it.”

  “My throat hurts and I’m hungry,” she said when she finished her glass of water.

  “Okay. I’ll find you something to eat.”

  He found a package of soup that could be heated in the microwave and fixed it. When the microwave beeped he pulled the cover off and stirred the noodle soup. He tasted it and then took it to her. “Be careful. It’s hot.”

  She took the bowl and ate several spoonfuls before handing it back to him. “I’m full.”

  He shook his head. She hadn’t eaten hardly any of it. He left her for his own bed next to hers. This time she slept for almost two hours straight and when she awoke she started to get out of bed.

  “Where do you think you are going?” He stumbled out of bed still half asleep.

  “Bathroom.” She tried to stand.

  He grabbed her as she lost her balance and held her to him until she found her footing. “Sit for a second. You can’t walk around naked.”

  “Naked?”

  He chuckled to himself as she tried to pull the sheet over her body. Reaching into his luggage, he pulled out a clean tee shirt, and plopped it over her head. With a little assistance, she managed to put her arms into the sleeves, and then he helped her to the bathroom.

  His shirt fell to her mid-thighs. Her beautiful feminine body still showed through the thin silk knit, but at least, it covered her. While he waited for her to come out, his mind replayed the image of her body.

  She was sick, very sick, and he knew he’d never violate that tiny thread of regard that existed between them. But that didn’t stop him from appreciating her incredible form that rivaled any sculpture he’d ever viewed. As soon as she opened the door, he put his arm around her waist and helped her back to bed.

  When he was certain she was asleep, he took a fast shower and dressed for the day. Then he opened his laptop and did what he could without Internet access. He tried his cell phone again and still had no signal. Damn! I’ve had one out here. Why don’t I have it now? He pulled on his coat and stepped outside. Everything was white and it was still coming down. He shut the door and fixed another pot of coffee. It’s going to be a long day.

  It was a long day and it was followed by another long night, and then another. He continued to sleep in the bed next to hers, but his biggest problem was sleeping. If he managed to turn off his lust, the most sleep he caught was an hour or two at a time.

  His mind wandered back in time. He’d never forgotten that his parents had moved the day after he turned twelve. Two days later, he was in a new school. Chloe was in all of his classes. He smiled at the thought of her. She was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. Long blonde hair swished across her butt. Tiny new boobies pressed against everything she wore. He carried his books in front of him hoping he hid his newfound interest in someone of the opposite sex. Vivacious and popular, she was everything he wasn’t.

  He’d always had good grades, and he quickly discovered he could get her attention if his grades matched hers. He buckled down and studied twice as hard. It was a game, but the competition was fiercer than any sport. The game became a habit, and soon he realized the potential that he had before him. Chloe made him what he was today. But how could he tell her that when all she did was fight with him?

  ~~ Three~~~

  It was in the early morning that Chloe awoke and looked around the room. Her throat was dry and her head was pounding. She sat up and realized that Rich was asleep in the bed next to her. She tried to remember how she got here, and when she realized the only thing she was wearing was a man’s undershirt, a wave of anger washed over her. “What the hell did you do to me?”

  His eyes flew open. “Chloe, give me a second. Don’t get up.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Her voice croaked.

  He flew to her side and offered her his hand. She ignored it and stood only to lose her balance, but he caught her and lowered back onto the bed.

  “Take my hand. You’re not steady enough to walk on your own.”

  She stared at him, took his hand, and tried one more time. His hand was soft, but his grip was firm. The room seemed to swim. She held his hand a little tighter. She thought she’d never make it to the bathroom.

  “I’ll be right here. Be careful.”

  She let go of his hand and grabbed the bathroom countertop. A few moments later, she opened the door. “My toothbrush.”

  “I’ll get it.” He found her bag that contained her toiletries, handed it to her, and waited by the bathroom door until she was finished. Then he helped her back into bed.

  “My throat is on fire.” Her voice sounded like sandpaper and she decided that the sandpaper had been used on her throat.

  “I figured that much. Is your head still splitting?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sleep or food?” He walked towards the kitchen.

  “Coffee?” She might have been sick, but she could still appreciate a cute butt in a pair of jeans and a wide set of shoulders. Why did they have to be on him?

  He started a pot of coffee and came to where she was lying. He sat beside her and pushed a lock of hair from her face. “Nice to have you back again. I’m sorry you’re sick.”

  “Why am I in your tee shirt?”

  He chuckled. “I figured you’d prefer to be covered.”

  She narrowed her eyes and glared at him.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve spent three nights and two days taking care of you and you’re out of Motrin.”

  “What do you mean three nights and two days?”

  “Search your memory and see if you remember anything.”

  She closed her eyes and
remembered holding a glass of water. “Not much.”

  He ran his hand across her cheek and she marveled at the softness of his touch.

  “What’s today?” she asked.

  “Sunday.”

  She peered into his warm brown eyes. “You have flecks of blue and green.”

  He grinned. “And yours have been gray glass, surrounded by bright pink cheeks and lips the color of rubies.” He looked over his shoulder for a second. “I think the coffee is ready.”

  She sat up and watched him pour two cups. “Any sweetener and creamer in this place?”

  “The yellow stuff and this.” He held up a container of creamer.

  She put her hand over her ear. “Two cream, one packet.” The deep ache turned to pain as it ripped through her ear and down her throat. “Ohmigod, my ear!”

  He brought her coffee to her and sat beside her while she drank it.

  “It hurts my throat to swallow and it hurts my ear to swallow.”

  “That would account for you being off balance.”

  She figured she smelled worse than a wet dog. “I want a shower.”

  “No way, you can barely stand up.”

  “I feel gross.”

  “The only shower you’ll get is if you take one with me.”

  “That’s not even funny.” She might have been sick but she wasn’t stupid. She had no intention of being seduced.

  “Well, you’re not getting one until you can stand without losing your balance.”

  She finished her coffee, handed him the cup, and put her head down on her pillow. “You didn’t tell me why I’m in your shirt.”

  “You don’t want to know.” Rich stared at her. Her lips were still quite bright but her cheeks looked paler.

  She winced and he was certain it wasn’t from her memory. Tears filled her eyes and her hand cupped her ear. He wanted to scoop her into his arms and cuddle her, but he knew she was in pain and would rebuke him.

  He fixed another cup of coffee and started to fix breakfast when she let out a plaintive moan. He turned around and immediately realized what had happened when he saw what oozed from her ear. “Just a second. You’ll feel better now that the pressure is off that ear. Your eardrum ruptured.” He turned the burner off and went in search of her washcloth.

  “How do you know so much?”

  One shoulder lifted and fell as he began to wipe her ear. Gently, he ran the warm cloth over the side of her face, and then tried to wipe her hair clean. “It happened to me.”

  He was certain she was in too much pain to put up much of a fight.

  “I think I am going to have to put you in the shower with me. Eat your breakfast first.”

  She narrowed her eyes in a threatening glance. “You’re not getting in with me.”

  “We’ll figure out something.”

  “Why am I in your undershirt?” She tugged at the front of it.

  He grinned and handed her a plate of scrambled eggs. “See if you can swallow these.”

  “You didn’t answer me.” Her lips were a fine line.

  He raised his eyebrows at her and grabbed his plate. When he finished scoffing down his eggs, he answered her, “Maybe because I was sick and tired of seeing your gorgeous naked body.”

  “You’re an ass.”

  He chuckled. “No, I’m not. If I were, I would have left you naked to feed my fantasies.”

  “I hate you, Dickie Warren.”

  “Really? You didn’t hate me when you called me to take you out of the tub, and I wrapped the towel around you. You didn’t hate me when I held you so you could gulp down water every half hour.” He shook his head. “You didn’t hate me when you were consumed with a fever.” His fingertips grazed her arm. “Think hard, Chloe. Don’t you remember clinging to me?”

  She pushed his hand away. His touch felt too good, too tender. “No, I don’t. And I hope you didn’t molest me.”

  “Oh, that’s low! You were so damned out of it that I could have probably done almost anything to you and you wouldn’t have known it. But I didn’t.” He took a deep breath and gazed very intently at her. “I covered you because I was tired of fighting with you to keep your body covered.”

  “So you saw me naked, and I’ll bet you enjoyed every square inch of me.” He did call me gorgeous. Smugness crawled over her. She worked hard to keep her body in shape.

  He smirked and sat beside her. “You have a beautiful body. I couldn’t help but notice. I also fought to keep from thinking about what I saw because you were sick as a dog and I am your boss.” He closed his eyes and then adverted his gaze away from her. “That fact alone throws a different light on what has transpired these last sixty some hours.”

  “If you touched me --”

  Rich didn’t like her accusation. It was a sucker punch to his integrity. “Yes, I touched you. I held you up so you could drink. I helped you to the bathroom. Using a cool washcloth, I wiped your face and arms trying to lower your body temperature. So yes, I touched you.” He put his hand over hers. “But I never once did anything to you other than take care of you.”

  She slipped her hand out from under his.

  “I’m not poison. I’m sorry, Chloe, that you feel that way about me. I’ve done nothing to you.” He started the shower and then came back to her. “Let’s see if you can stand on your own two feet long enough to get clean.”

  She stood and carefully made her way to the bathroom. “See, I’m fine.”

  “Like hell, you are. Get in the shower because I’m going to stand on the outside of that shower curtain the whole time you are in there.” He gave her a few seconds and then he entered the bathroom and waited for her to turn off the water.

  He was about to leave when she called, “Dickie!”

  He grabbed her as she stepped out and wrapped her in a warm towel.

  “I’m sorry. I really am.”

  He picked her up and carried her back to bed. He fetched another towel and wrapped her hair in it. “Try to get some more sleep.”

  He cleaned up the breakfast dishes and then took his shower while she slept.

  As he was getting dressed, he noticed her eyes fluttered open. A grin split his face and he asked, “Feeling better?”

  “Tired and thirsty.” She sat up and readjusted the towels.

  “I’ll get you some juice. You could use the vitamin C. It’s canned, but it’s better than nothing.” He found an old punch and knocked two triangular holes in the large container, then poured a glass of the pineapple-orange juice for her. When he turned around, she had gotten out of bed and was digging through her suitcase on the floor. Long legs and a bare butt captured his gaze and he stood motionless taking in her beauty. Heat flowed through his system.

  When she stood up, she turned. It was obvious that she realized he’d been watching her. “Just what did you see?”

  “I saw you pawing through your suitcase.”