His clothes were in the dryer, so right now he was walking around in a pair of sexy black boxers. Did food poisoning cause a fever? Because I was burning up just looking at him. His stomach was ripped with muscle, his skin bronze and beautiful. His legs were long and lean.
I'd seen him naked before, but at the time I'd been looking at him with sex on the brain. Now, without the energy to jump his bones like a wild cowgirl, I could appreciate him like an art connoisseur. And appreciate him, I did. Fluid strength, he was, and all man.
He strode to the edge of my bed and gazed down at me, warmth and tenderness in his blue eyes. His black hair fell at his temples in complete disarray. "You need anything?"
Now there was a loaded question, and one I could interpret in so many ways. "I could use some company," I said.
A hint of satisfaction curled the edges of his lips. "I found your BlueJay under a bunch of magazines-which, by the way, have some great quizzes on relationships. You should read them. Anyway, I left it on your kitchen table. Uncovered."
"You're too good to me," I said dryly.
"You know, we could see this sickness as a sign."
"That it's my time to die?"
He laughed. "That you're pregnant."
I stiffened. "Not another word on that subject," I said. "I don't need the stress of that now."
Slowly he sobered. "Would it really be so bad?"
"I'm not going to answer that." Because if I said yes, I'd be lying. And I didn't want to say no. That would lead to a whole different conversation.
Sighing, he eased down, propping his weight over my legs and onto his elbow. Without his tall, strong body blocking the view in front of me, I was afforded a glimpse of myself in my dresser mirror. I gasped, horrified.
"I'm a hideous beast monster." My hair was messy and tangled. Black mascara smudges coated the skin under my eyes. "You have to leave," I told Royce. "You have to leave right now."
"Don't worry," he said on a laugh. "I'm not going to sell pictures of you to the Tattler."
The entire world could see me like this, but not Royce. Anyone but Royce. "Seriously, you need to go."
"Naomi, sweetheart, you threw up all over me. I think it's a little too late to be worrying about appearances."
Please Lord, I thought then, let me be one of the lucky souls who actually dies from food poisoning. I tossed the cover over my head, shielding my haggard features from his view. "I look so ugly."
He tugged the covers out of my kung-fu grip and cupped my jaw in his hand. "You look like you need me, and I think that's one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen."
Oh. My chin tilted to the side and I found myself feeling all dreamy and goo-goo.
"I got you a present while I was in Florida. You'll have to come to my place if you want to open it, though."
No way was I going to his house. Too personal. Too… tempting right now. What if I never wanted to leave?
But…
"A present? For me?" A shaft of warmth speared me. Like any normal human, I loved receiving gifts. "What is it?" A necklace? An airport snowglobe?
A ring?
"I'm not telling. You'll just have to see for yourself." His hand climbed up my leg and onto my stomach, gently rubbing away any lingering pain. "I found your Tigress book. It makes for some interesting reading. To be honest, I think you've already unleashed yours."
I closed my eyes as I savored the feel of him next to me, touching me. Offering me praise. I simply enjoyed. "What makes you think that?"
"You're strong. You don't take any crap. I'm willing to admit you've left me in a bleeding heap on more than one occasion. I doubt you'd ever let me take you for granted."
I was feeling sublimely peaceful, something I hadn't felt all night. What little sleep I'd had had been constantly interrupted with bouts of sickness and phone calls. Royce's voice drifted in and out of my mind, soft one minute, a little louder the next.
I wasn't sure, but I thought I heard him say, "But even tigresses have mates."
It was the last thing to float through my mind before I sank into a deep slumber.
How many hours passed, I didn't know. I only knew that Royce had taken care of me as I slept another day away, and that my phone was ringing again. So was the BlueJay that had been placed on the nightstand beside my bed. Where was Royce? Groggy, disoriented, but no longer in pain, I lifted the receiver. "Hello."
"Miss Delacroix, please," a sweet female voice said.
I woke up a bit and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. "This is she."
"This is Hannah Carroll from Powell Aeronautics."
"Who?"
"Mr. Powell's assistant."
Elvira, I realized. "Yes?"
"I've been instructed to ask how you're feeling," she said.
My glance shifted to my bedside clock. Nine a.m. I blinked in confusion. I'd slept for nearly the entire weekend. It was no longer Sunday. No, it was now Monday morning-breakfast with the twins. I'd already missed it I realized with disappointment. "I feel fine," I said. And I did. My stomach was empty, and I was a little weak, but that was the extent of it.
"I'm so glad to hear that." Her agreeable tone morphed into one of contempt. "Since you're feeling better, I've been instructed to confirm your appointment with Mr. Powell today at ten-thirty. If, however, you feel bad, I've been instructed to tell you to stay home." Now she sounded hopeful.
"You're mistaken." I rolled to my back, stretching my legs. "I don't have an appointment today."
"You're the one who's mistaken. I actually have you down in the appointment book this time."
"But isn't Royce here, at my place?" I searched every direction, looking for any hint of him. All that remained was the lingering scent of sandalwood.
"No, he is not at your place," Elvira growled. "He's here at the office. Where he belongs."
"Good for him. Goodbye, Ms. Carroll." I inched forward to replace the phone in its cradle, but her frustrated what-kind-of-monster-are-you yelp stopped me. Phone back at my ear, I said, "What now?"
"Because Mr. Powell just arrived back in town, today's schedule is tight. I absolutely cannot squeeze you in at any other time." She added grudgingly, "And he was adamant that he see you today if you were feeling better."
I sat up and propped my elbows on my knees. The thought of seeing Royce again made my heart leap and my blood heat. Sighing, I rested my head in my hands. "I'll be there," I said.
Which didn't give me long to get ready, and I wanted to look my best. I needed to look my best, if only to make up for the fright show I'd been yesterday. If I didn't blot that image out of his mind, I might as well end our association now.
I threw down the receiver, popped out of bed and climbed into the shower. The hot, steamy liquid cascaded over me, washing away all hints of sickness. I brushed my teeth three times and rinsed my mouth with burning, antibacterial mint wash for over two minutes. The bottle claimed thirty seconds would do it, but I wanted to make sure all germs were annihilated.
After I applied makeup, I blew dry my hair until it shone like an evening star, and I hurriedly shimmied into a dark red dress that hugged my curves and hit just below my knees. Not too businesslike, but definitely sexy. To be daring, I forfeited a bra.
Surely a braless woman could replace the memory of a hideous, puking beast monster. Still, I didn't want the rest of Powell Aeronautics to see me braless, so I pulled on a dress jacket. I checked out the finished product in the mirror and nodded with satisfaction. As good as it was going to get.
Time to confront Royce Powell.
Somehow, and Lord only knew how, I managed to make it to Powell Aeronautics with ten minutes to spare.
Elvira spotted me and glared. She looked immaculate behind her desk, as cold as stone and just as hard. She seethed with… jealousy?
Ohmygod. She wanted Royce for her own, I realized. I don't know why I hadn't figured it out earlier. Maybe because she didn't look like the kind of woman who had hormones. Or blood. Or a heartbeat. Still, she obviously viewed me and any other woman interested in him as a threat.